Chapter Eleven
Sage
When we descend the stairs dressed in practical, tactical layers, my neck covered—no need to flaunt the intimate double bite marks—the shift in atmosphere is palpable.
Whatever celebration lingered from the ceremony is long gone.
The air is tight. Everyone's eyes are sharp, expressions serious and focused.
Asher stops midway down the staircase, taking the elevation to command the room.
He's dressed in a fitted shirt rolled at the sleeves and khaki tactical pants, dog tags glinting against his chest. For a second, the metal catches the light, revealing the faint shimmer beneath it.
The nightstone. So that's where he keeps it.
"All right," he starts, voice calm. "We've seen what they're capable of, both melee and ranged. That means most of you stay inside. Armed. Cover us in case this turns ugly."
Astrid crosses her arms. "I don't plan to sit this one out."
Asher studies her, then gives a single nod. "You're with us. The outside team will be me, Kayden, Sage, and Astrid."
He turns back to the rest of the room. "Tomas, Winston—upstairs windows. Donna, Jace, Eira—downstairs entry points. If it starts, we'll need you to create pressure from both angles. Aim to disable, not kill."
Murmurs of yes, sir and Colonel follow.
Maeve steps forward. "I'll go out with you. He won't target me, and someone needs to inform them about the barrier."
Kayden's expression tightens. "Or you could let him walk into it and fry. I'm not opposed to that."
Maeve gives him a look. "It's not a trap, vampire. It's a ward that's not meant to harm. Balance, remember?"
Donna mutters, "It seems a little unbalanced when he can vaporize us with a look."
Kayden grunts. "He has a team for a reason. He's not a god."
Asher nods once, sharply. "Exactly. He's powerful, not invincible." Then, to Maeve, "You can come with us."
Tomas clears his throat. "Are we certain it's wise for both husbands to go outside? No offense, but it might be smarter for one of you to stay behind."
Kayden and Asher exchange a look. I answer for them, exhaling. "That would be wiser, yeah. But neither of them is going to do it. I know it. You know it. We all do."
Kayden smirks. "She gets it."
Asher adds, cool and measured, "We can't show hesitation or fear." He glances toward Maeve. "The ward will hold, correct? It will protect us from his powers?"
She nods. "It will."
"Then it's settled," Asher says. "Five of us outside. Everyone else, take long-range positions."
He motions to the weapons cache: shotguns, hunting rifles, crossbows, even a sniper rifle that had been reassembled. Tomas picks it up, and I realize that he's done this before. I see it in the way he checks the scope and load with the muscle memory of a military sniper.
The last blush of sun filters through the clouds, warm light giving way to dusky gray.
Then, the sound of engines. Tires against gravel.
"They're coming," Asher says, stepping forward. "Positions."
I take mine between my husbands at the threshold. Kayden to my left. Asher to my right. Astrid and Maeve just behind.
My pulse flutters, but I hold steady.
"If anything happens, get behind me," I tell them.
Kayden scoffs under his breath. Asher goes still.
"I mean it," I add in a sharp tone. "He won't try to hurt me. But if you fall… if either of you—"
Asher's hand brushes my back. "We're not falling. Not tonight."
We step out in a tight formation, feeling the weight of every eye on us, inside and out. From the windows, I glimpse silhouettes—crossbows, pistols, rifles—all trained outward. Our house has become a fortress.
I exhale slowly, forcing my shoulders back, chin lifted. I can't let Darius see even a flicker of fear.
We stop just shy of the rune-marked perimeter, the faint shimmer of the ward glinting green-gold. It's defensive magic, and I pray to whatever forces still care that it's enough.
From across the field, his team exits the vehicles with military precision, using the cars as shields. Darlene and Johnny come forth, eyes scanning everything. I can tell when they clock the weapons in the windows and the barrier line. They're communicating with gestures.
Then Darius steps out. Immaculate as usual, his shirt unbuttoned low enough to say casual, but not too far from power lunch with a hedge fund.
His gaze lands on me instantly and stays there. He doesn't react when Darlene points toward the weapons. Doesn't blink when Johnny murmurs something in his ear. It's like none of it matters. Only I do.
"My nymph," he says, voice deep and warm like aged red wine, curling down my spine. "It's time to come back to me."
Gods, even now, a part of me reacts. My stomach flips, my skin prickles. That pull is ancient and instinctual, but I crush it down and step forward.
"I'm not going with you, Darius," I say clearly. "You're wasting your time. I don't want to be yours. Not to work beside you and definitely not to marry you."
His smile doesn't break, but I see something shift behind his eyes. He's calculating like a chess player deciding whether to checkmate or if he has time to play around.
"You've been misled," he says softly. "You're confused and you've wandered so far, my dearest. Let me help you find your way back to where you belong."
"Oh for fuck's sake," Kayden growls. "How many times does she have to say 'hit the road, Jack' before it sinks through that smug, goat-brained head of yours?"
Darius doesn't even glance at him. His focus is absolute.
He steps close enough that I feel the weight of his presence like an invisible tide rolling toward us.
Darlene and Johnny follow, flanking him in silence.
Darlene's sharp eyes scan the house. Johnny meets my gaze for a moment with the same soft regret as before, but he looks away instantly, like he can't afford the distraction.
The others stay by the cars, adjusting stances, ready for anything.
"There's a protective barrier, Satyr. You cannot pass," Maeve says from behind me.
Darius stops just before the ward without sparing her a glance. He lifts a hand and touches it. His fingers brush the shimmering edge, and his skin withers instantly. Gray, drying and then crackling.
He pulls back, and it restores itself within seconds.
Darius finally looks at the druid.
"Maeve O'Cairn," he says smoothly. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
There's no real pleasure in his voice, just weaponized civility.
"I've heard plenty about you, Darius Hawthorn," Maeve says, tone clipped.
His eyes cut back to me, moss-green and burning. "Do you think this can keep you from me?"
I step forward, more assured by the hum of the ward between us. "Not just this, Darius. I won't marry you. I can't, because I'm already married."
I lift my hand. The two rings catch the pale light.
For the first time, his composure cracks, like I've done something he wasn't prepared for.
"Yeah, goat man," Kayden drawls, stepping beside me, flashing his own band. "Turns out Sage has a type—powerful immortals with a dark side. She just picked the upgrade. My brother and me."
Asher's voice is calmer, but colder. "Maybe your feelings are real, Darius, but she doesn't return them. That should be proof enough."
The air shifts. Wind curls wild through the clearing, stirring the dead leaves. The whole forest feels like it's leaning in and waiting for something to break.
Darius doesn't speak. Instead, it's Darlene, her eyes filled with betrayal and rage. "You married vampires? Creatures of death?"
"I love them," I respond, the words spilling before I can second-guess them. It's the first time saying it out loud.
Asher and Kayden straighten, my words reassuring them, too.
"I never thought you'd crawl so low." Darlene hawks spit at the ground. "Disgusting."
Kayden barks a scornful laugh. "Judgmental tree hag. If she chose us, such disgusting creatures, what does that say about your oh-so-glorified boss?"
The wind surges harsher, branches creaking, the air thrumming like lightning waiting to strike.
"It is true," Darius finally says. "I see your bond even through this ward." His gaze rakes me. "You've shared blood with them."
Darlene curses under her breath. Johnny looks at me, then away, something twisting in his expression. Disgust? Conflict? I can't tell anymore.
Darlene turns to Darius. "You gave her enough chances. More than she deserves. Let's kill the vamps and take her—"
Her words cut short when his glowing glance snaps to her.
His focus returns to me. "You think this charade of a marriage shields you from your destiny?" His voice drops, dangerous and resonant, echoing as if the forest itself mouths the words. "You were meant to be mine. This changes nothing, only proves your weakness. You disappoint me, my love."
Asher's reply is calm, but sharp enough to draw blood. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Darius. Especially for a man who pretends he's above it."
Darius inhales, slow and sharp. His eyes flare brighter, uncanny green, pulsing with something older than the bones of this forest. Nature around us turns hostile.
Leaves rattle. Branches groan. The wind bites colder.
I've never seen him like this. Not just powerful, but unraveled, something in him slipping past the careful control he always wears like his Armani suit.
The sheer force of it coils in my gut. It's primal and terrifying. And, damn it, a part of me thinks: he looks incredible like this.
Then shame slams into me like a slap. I'm married. Twice. Bonded and claimed. What the hell is wrong with me?
His gaze locks with mine. Then… he closes his eyes. Breathes out.
Everything stills. The wind drops. The trees stop groaning. It's like the forest released a breath with him.
When he opens his eyes again, the glow is gone. Only sharp, polished cold remains.