Chapter Fifty-One
Sage
Agony. That's the only word that comes close to what it feels like as Asher carries me out of the basement and lays me on the sofa in the living room.
The fire burns in the hearth, but I can't feel it. The cold inside me isn't about temperature—it's the chill of death, still coiled in my veins.
"Hey, hey. It's okay. You'll be okay," Asher murmurs, pulling me against him. Only then do I realize how badly I'm shaking.
Kayden and Darius stand nearby, both watching with the same sharp, helpless worry.
"Don't give in, Sage," Kayden says quietly. "Don't go back to it. I know it's still calling."
He's right. The darkness hums just beneath my skin, soft and persuasive, promising quiet if I let it take me again. And part of me wants to sink back into the nothing, stop feeling altogether.
But I don't.
I grit my teeth and clutch the blanket tighter, holding on as everything inside me burns and frays.
The world around me feels too alive, every spark, every heartbeat pressing in on me.
It hurts to sense it, hurts worse to know I can't reach for it without destroying it.
Then the thirst hits, savage and sudden.
Somewhere through the static of it all, Darius's phone buzzes.
He kneels beside me, taking my hand. His warmth feels almost unreal against my cold skin.
"I have to take care of something," he says softly. "I'll be back, my nymph."
I nod, barely managing it, the effort harder than it should be.
When he's gone, only Asher and Kayden remain.
"She needs blood," Kayden mutters and disappears into the kitchen.
Asher keeps me close, whispering something low and soothing. I can't form a reply, so I stay silent, breathing through the tremors.
Kayden returns with a carton, tears it open, and holds it toward me. "Drink. You need it."
The scent hits me, warm metal, a trace of life still clinging to it, and my stomach twists. Hunger and revulsion at once. I turn my head. "I can't."
"You have to," Kayden insists. "You're drained."
"I can still smell them," I whisper. "The person this came from. The life still tied to it."
Kayden hesitates, glancing at Asher.
"That's not normal," Asher says.
"Nothing about me is," I mutter, drawing the blanket up around me. "Please, just take it away."
Kayden does, setting the carton aside.
"What do you need, Sage? Can we do anything for you?" Asher asks.
I shake my head. Even trying to think hurts.
Then I hear voices on the stairs.
"Is she… is she back?" Donna asks.
I turn to her. She's standing halfway down, eyes cautious, shoulders tight. Tomas lingers just behind her, gaze sweeping the room. Neither of them crosses the last step, like coming closer might break something fragile.
And then it hits—memories rushing in all at once.
The bite.
The sound of Donna's bone cracking.
My own words, sharp and vicious.
The taste of blood—Darlene's, Eira's, others I barely remember. Those I left for dead. Those I killed without hesitation. Those I twisted into killing for me.
The weight of it crashes over me, relentless.
My lips tremble. "Donna… I'm so—so sorry."
She shakes her head, taking a slow step forward. "It wasn't you," she says softly. "I know what it feels like."
And she does. I know that now. I shouldn't, but I do. I pulled that story out of her when she never should've had to relive it. The guilt knots tighter.
"Tomas," I say quietly.
He shakes his head, his smile small but kind. "You are back. That's all that matters."
"Let's quit it with the apology marathon," Kayden mutters, his tone rough but his eyes soft. "You can do the whole walk of repentance later, when you don't look like you're about to collapse."
Asher glances between us. "Can food help? Or any… plants?"
"I don't…" I swallow hard. Even the thought makes my stomach twist. "Not now."
He nods, though the worry stays in his eyes. I must look as bad as I feel, like something dragged from hell, not sure it should've been.
I'm alive. I'm back. Surrounded by people who love me. People I've hurt, but who still stay.
And yet part of me believes what the dark whispered, that death might've been kinder than this: the rawness, the exposure, the feeling of being inside out and not knowing how to exist like this.