Chapter Eight
Sage
When we spill the big news to everyone gathered in the living room, there's a stunned, ringing silence.
Then, chaos.
"Oh my god, congratulations! I wish we had time for a proper ceremony," Donna squeals, giddy with excitement.
"If you're certain this is the right path…" Tomas says, cautious but not opposed.
"Both of them?" Jace blurts, eyes wide, horrified. "Like, at the same time?"
"Well, didn't see that one coming." Winston exhales slowly, clearly stunned.
"Weaponizing marriage." Astrid raises her beer. "Respect."
Eira only smiles, like she knew before any of us.
I clear my throat. "Maeve, would you be willing to conduct the ceremony? And is it possible to bond with both?"
Maeve stares for a long beat, then shakes her head, and lets out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"It's possible," she says. "Nature doesn't carry the same hang-ups as human law. But Sage…" Her gaze sharpens. "Are you absolutely sure? Binding yourself to vampires… this kind of bond is unnatural."
Kayden bristles immediately. "We didn't ask for judgment, druid."
"This isn't judgment," Maeve says coolly. "It's fact. Nature marriage connects your life force. They are death. You are life. It could be unpredictable."
"Would it be harmful?" I ask. "To any of us?"
Maeve studies me for a moment, then shakes her head slowly. "Not that I know of. A bond made in willingness is accepted by the old magic. But it would be uncharted territory. Honestly…" Her lips twitch into something almost like amusement. "I'm curious to see how it would turn out."
"This isn't a research project," Asher says, his voice calm but firm. "It's our lives."
Maeve tilts her head. "And yet you came to a druid. You ask nature for help, and you get nature's interest."
Asher steps forward. "Are you willing to conduct the ceremony?"
Maeve sighs, the weight of politics and danger visible in her expression. "That would be pushing it. Helping you with the crystal and the protective barrier? He might overlook it. But officiating a marriage between his runaway bride and two vampires?" She shakes her head. "He won't let that slide."
"Are you afraid of him?" I ask quietly.
Maeve meets my gaze without flinching. "It's wise to be afraid of him. But not for my life. He can't kill me, or order me killed. Druids are protected by oath-bound laws. But Darius Hawthorn has many other ways to make someone regret crossing him."
"We can pay," Asher says.
Maeve scoffs. "If it were about money, I could've handed Sage over already and made ten times what you've given me. No, my reasons are different. Let's say… curiosity." She glances toward Eira. "And a favor to an old friend."
Eira inclines her head gently.
"However," Maeve continues, turning back to me, "there is something Darius can't give me. But you can."
My stomach tenses. "What is it?"
"Your blood," she says simply. "Made-nymph blood is an anomaly. A living question mark. I don't want much. Just enough to study. Call it druidic science."
Kayden frowns. "And people say we're the ones obsessed with blood."
Asher lifts a brow. "You use blood in your rituals?"
Maeve smiles, all too pleased. "You should brush up on your druid history." She turns back to me, serious now. "So? What's your answer, nymph?"
I don't hesitate. "You can have it."
Maeve lets Eira handle the blood draw, since she's the medical professional among us. Eira works with the same quiet efficiency I remember from the hospital.
Five vials of blood seem more than 'just a little,' but I don't argue. It's done.
When she pulls the last vial, I reach out and stop her gently. "Eira, can I talk to you for a moment?"
She nods. "Of course."
Maeve, catching the hint, leaves the room quietly. I sit up straighter, pulse picking up as I ask what's been gnawing at me.
"When you screamed back at Cole's," I begin, "you looked straight at me and said you saw death."
Eira inclines her head, expression blank. "Yes."
"Do you know anything more?" I ask. "Like, whose death you felt? Or if my choices now are helping or making it worse? Because if there's anything I can do to stop it, I will."
She smiles gently. "I'm not a psychic, Sage. I don't see visions of specific futures, names and faces. It's a sense. A pressure. The feeling of death looming, like the air right before a storm breaks."
I bite my lip. "So you can't tell me if I can do anything about it."
Eira shakes her head slowly. "Life and death are part of the same cycle. I don't see death as a curse to be avoided. I'm not its harbinger. Not its enemy or its advocate. It simply is. And it will be."
"So… it's certain?"
"Nothing is ever certain," she says. "But there are tides in life. Strong ones. When those tides rise, no amount of swimming will stop the current. Sometimes all we can do is stay true to who we are, even as we're carried through it."
I let out a breath. "Not the most encouraging thing to hear."
She smiles again. "It wasn't meant to be."
I stare at the floor for a moment, then glance back at her. "Aren't you afraid? Of Darius, of what could happen if this spirals? You've all built something peaceful here, and I… I brought death to your door."
"I don't want anyone I care about to be hurt.
I will fight if I have to. However, my relationship with death is different.
I've lived beside it for a long time, and its presence doesn't rattle me the way it does others.
" Eira pauses. "And you didn't bring death, Sage.
It followed you. That's not the same thing. No one here blames you."
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "That's not exactly true, but thank you for saying it anyway."
Eira begins to leave, but I stop her once more.
"I still hope I can prevent the deaths."
She looks back at me. "I know."
Then she walks out, leaving me in the quiet of the room. I smile to myself, grateful, and a little unnerved. Turns out banshees aren't great at pep talks.