Chapter Fifty-Two
Darius
Urgent matters unfortunately pulled me away right after we got her back.
The first was a meeting with my fellow satyr from Europe.
A polite affair, if one can call two immortals holding knives behind their backs polite.
We exchanged smiles, traded veiled threats, and parted without bloodshed.
Old creatures like us avoid open conflict when the outcome might echo through centuries.
He agreed to back off, but not without a warning, as if I hadn't lived long enough to understand the cost myself.
The matter of the Quinns required equal precision. They had been locked away while we worked to recover her. Frightened, likely convinced it was ransom or revenge. Asher handled the erasure. They won't return.
When I step into the Darrow house, the silence tells me what I'll find before I see her. Sage sits on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, her expression empty.
"She hasn't eaten. Not blood. Not food," Kayden says quietly. "She's refusing everything."
We're still bound by the fragile truce. It'll need to hold. For her.
Asher emerges from the kitchen, a cup of tea in his hand. He kneels before her, offers it gently. She takes it, fingers trembling around the mug, but doesn't drink. She only holds it, as if the motion alone might tether her to the world.
Kayden glances at me. "Can you do something?" he whispers.
His tone holds no mockery, only despair. It's wrecking to see her returned and yet unreachable.
"I'll try," I say.
Asher steps aside, giving me space.
I kneel beside her, taking the mug from her hands and setting it on the table. "Sage," I say softly. "My nymph. Look at me."
Her gaze drifts to me, slow and hollow. "Darius." A whisper.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, my fingers brushing hers to remind her of warmth.
She shakes her head. "I can't…"
"You can," I answer quietly. "You can find your way through this."
Her eyes close. Her voice fractures. "It's still inside me. All of it. The darkness. I can feel it. But worse—" her voice catches, "the guilt. I destroyed everything. I killed so many. I killed… Eira."
"Eira saw her own death in you. She knew it was coming. She wasn't afraid," Asher reminds her gently.
"She wasn't a prophet," Sage says, her voice raw. "Everything I did wasn't fate. It was me."
She presses her palms to her eyes. I've seen ancient warriors break under less. But this is not battle fatigue. This is the shattering that comes when light remembers what it was like to be dark.
"You'll find your way back to the light, I promise," I tell her softly.
"I am death, Darius. It's tearing me apart." Her voice is low, hollow. "A creature like me shouldn't exist, and you know it. Of all people, you do." Her eyes lift to meet mine, piercing.
She's right. A dark nymph who remembers what she has done, who feels, is an impossible contradiction. A being torn between guilt and hunger, empathy and decay. It would break anyone.
If I were honest, I would tell her I don't know if this can be undone. But I can't let her see that doubt. Someone has to believe.
"Let's try something to wake what still lives inside you." I glance to Asher. "Bring me a potted plant."
He leaves and returns a moment later, handing me a small fern. I set it beside her on the couch. She stares at it warily, as though it might wake and bite.
I take her hand gently, guiding it over the leaves.
She shakes her head. "No, it will die."
"Then we do it together."
I let my power flow, searching for the thread between us. The nymph-satyr bond is faint, frayed, but not gone. It emerged from the darkness together with her.
Her hand trembles in mine. She's afraid, but she follows, leaning closer as I guide her.
"Breathe," I whisper. "Feel it."
The power stirs, curling between our palms, weaving into the plant like a living tendril. Slowly, it responds. Life answers life. The fern straightens, the green deepens, and from the stem, a bud begins to swell and bloom.
I steady the flow, holding the connection.
Her eyes begin to glow faintly, recognition flickering. For the first time since her return, her breath evens. Her energy aligns with mine.
The flower unfurls in full bloom, pale and perfect.
A small smile ghosts across her lips. Hope. Fragile, but real.
And then—
It breaks.
The power collapses. I feel the shift before I see it—the cold pulse in my gut, the wave of her darkness rising, devouring.
The flower blackens, withers, and dies in seconds.
Sage gasps. "No, no…" Tears streak down her face, her whole body trembling. "No…"
Kayden mutters under his breath, "Well, that was a bust."
I hand the pot to Asher. "Leave us," I say quietly.
The brothers exchange a glance. A shared, silent agreement.
Kayden lingers just long enough to say, "We trust you. Don't betray that."
I nod once. No promise follows. My loyalty to them begins and ends with Sage. She is the axis on which every decision turns.
When they leave, silence settles around us. The air carries the scent of earth and decay.
I crouch beside her again and take her hands in mine. "Sage," I ask quietly, "do you want to leave?"
She nods slowly. "Yes."
"I can take you away," I say. "But I need to know if you're certain. Do you want to leave them—Kayden and Asher?"
A pause. Then a slow shake of her head. "No, I don't."
I expected as much. I study her face, the exhaustion etched deep. Then I ask the harder question.
"Do you want me to leave you with them? To disappear from your life for good?"
Her eyes lift to mine, green, luminous even through tears. There is so much pain in them that it cuts through me.
"No," she whispers.
Relief floods me like air after drowning.
"All right," I say, brushing my lips against her temple. "We'll find a way. I'll be back."
Then I rise and go to find the brothers.
"That was short," Kayden remarks when I reach them in the dead garden.
Asher turns, his brow furrowed with concern.
I waste no time. "She's tethered to you both, and she's a dark nymph. Her entire being is unbalanced. Death dominates, and she cannot fight it back. The guilt only deepens the fracture. She's breaking apart from within."
Kayden's expression tightens, fury flashing through. "So what's your genius suggestion? We break the bond? Our marriage?"
Predictable reaction.
"No," I answer. "There is another way."
I look to Asher, waiting to see if he understands before I speak it aloud.
He does. Conflict flickers across his face.
"There is another way," he echoes. "Adding you to the bond. Right?"
"Yes," I confirm. "It would strengthen my connection to her, and through it, the balance. It won't restore her entirely, but it could tilt the scale toward life. Still, I won't force your hand. The choice must be yours."
"It's hers," Kayden interjects, not missing a beat.
That, I did not expect. He's not fighting it. Agreeing.
I turn to him, eyes narrowed, looking for something I missed. He meets my gaze squarely, then looks toward the house, as though he can see her through the walls.
"What? Surprised you, satyr?" His tone is flat. "If it can help her, really help, then do it."