Chapter Forty-Eight
Sage
The thirst is savage, ripping through me until every nerve feels raw.
I reach again for the world outside, clawing for any pulse of nature left to drain, but I've taken everything. It's empty. Dead.
And I need blood. Desperately.
Now.
I clench my fists, strain against the chains. My skin feels too tight for my body, my gums ache, fangs out.
But they won't win.
They want me compliant. Controlled.
They won't win.
The door creaks open. Light cuts through the dark.
Two figures. Donna and Tomas.
I laugh, low and cracked. "What's this? The light troops before the cavalry? Are my lovers too heartbroken to face me?"
"Hi, Sage," Donna says softly. Both keep their distance.
"What you're going through… we've been through it too," Tomas offers, voice infuriatingly calm.
"I'm not like you," I spit. "So no, you haven't." Then I grin, leaning back. "But if you want to play, by all means."
Tomas settles against the wall. Donna drags a stool closer, but still out of reach.
"Are you going to rip us apart, too?" Donna asks.
"That's the plan, isn't it?" I smile, even as the pain sears through me. The thirst is a living thing now. Gnawing, clawing. Worse than anything nature ever gave me.
It's fixable. They just won't fix it.
I tilt my head, eyes on Tomas. "Let's start with you. The follower. The soldier. Still wagging your tail for your Colonel, even when he fails you."
He meets my stare without blinking. "That's what loyalty means. Allowing space for someone's mistakes as well as their victories."
I smirk. "Or maybe you're just hollow. Running on inertia because you already died, really fully died, back in Vietnam."
A pause. Then that same infuriating tone: "I died when my family rejected me for what I'd become."
My jaw tightens. He's too steady. It's annoying. Even Asher cracked faster.
"Well," I say, rolling my eyes, "looks like anything interesting about you died, too."
I lean back into the shadows. There's something in the way he talks that sinks deeper than I want it to.
I turn my attention away from him.
Donna's easier prey. I want to make her cry. But for that, I need her alone. So I play the long game. I shift my face into something weary, something that looks like surrender. The exhaustion part's real enough. The rest is theater.
We sit in silence. Minutes stretch. Then I look at Tomas. "Can you do me a favor?"
He nods.
"You're starving me," I say, voice low, strained. "Least you could do is help me through it. I've got some weed stashed in my room. If you don't mind…"
He studies me for a moment, then nods again. "Do you want to step out with me?" he asks Donna.
She shakes her head. "I'll be fine."
Of course she will.
The door shuts behind him.
My mask slips the moment he's gone. A grin unfurls. "So, pretending to be brave, are we?"
"I'm not afraid of you, Sage. Just of what you're doing—to them, to the group, to yourself," she says softly.
"That's still a lot of fear to carry," I murmur, tilting my head, eyes fixed on hers.
"You claim you've been through this before, that you can save me.
Or that Asher can. But you never told me the story.
What kind of darkness is hiding behind the sparkle-queen act, Donna?
What did it take to make you this polished? "
Her throat bobs. "It did get dark," she says. "Before it got light again."
"How many?" I ask.
She knows what I mean.
"Four," she whispers, lips shaping the word like a confession.
And something clicks. Her pupils dilate, her breathing slows. The trance starts.
"Four people, huh?" I echo, voice steady, gaze locked. "Anyone close?"
She nods slowly. "A boyfriend." Her voice trembles.
"Ah. A lover. Tragic."
"It was," she says. "He had a ring. I found it after. He was going to propose. And I killed him with my own hands."
"So that's the story behind all the glitter," I say softly. "No wonder you try so hard to be light—you're still dragging your lover's corpse behind you."
Her eyes glisten.
"The weight of it still crushes you, doesn't it?"
"Every day," she whispers.
"Mmm… poor girl." My tone soothes. "You wouldn't wish that pain on anyone else, right?"
She nods, dazed. "No. It's… agony."
"I've killed more than you," I say gently. "Imagine how I'd feel if I still could. If I let all that grief in, it would splinter me."
"It would," she murmurs, her voice gone thin. "It could destroy you."
"Yes. But if you help me, it won't. You don't want me to suffer like you do, right?"
Her eyes glaze over. "How can I help you?"
Got her.
"Unlock me. Let me go," I say softly.
She stands, moves toward me like she's sleepwalking.
"I… I don't have… a key," she breathes.
"Come closer, then," I whisper.
She obeys. One step. Another.
The door creaks open.
Tomas.
Donna blinks awake just as I lunge, grab her, and pull her tight. My fangs hit her neck—hot, fast, perfect. Her scream tears through the basement as blood floods my mouth.
Tomas is on us in a heartbeat, wrenching her away. Bone snaps under my grip, a clean, satisfying crack.
"Sage!" she gasps, clutching her broken arm, backing away.
"Not Sage," I growl. "Not Sabrina. Nothing human. Just the monster." Blood drips from my lips. A small taste, but better than nothing.
Tomas drags her out, slamming the door behind them.
I slump back into the dark, chains biting my wrists, the scent of her blood warm in the air, taunting me.