Chapter Fifty-Five
Sage
While the others head straight to Cole's, my husbands take me somewhere else first. The cemetery. To the people who couldn't make it. People I can't stop thinking about. And yeah, I know what happened wasn't all on me, but some of it was. Enough to keep me up at night.
We stop at Winston's grave first. Then Eira's.
I don't say anything, just crouch and place my hands on the soil and let the magic do what I can't put into words. Wild blooms push through the earth, curling around the headstones. It's not enough. It can never be. But it's something.
My chest tightens, that sharp stab of grief hitting like it's brand new. But the three men behind me, watching quietly, giving me space, make it a little easier to breathe through it.
By the time we get to the bar, the afterparty is in full swing.
Donna's trying to drag Tomas into some awkward, offbeat dance.
Astrid and Ru are locked in a vicious arm-wrestling match, both glaring as if it were a duel to the death.
Maeve watches from the corner, sipping something and smiling like this is all vaguely amusing.
Seeing them laugh, even after everything, softens something in me.
I hang my coat and head toward the bar. Jace is there, no fancy white shirt this time—just flannel and jeans. When he sees me, he grins.
"Congrats. Sorry I missed the forest vows," he says. "Someone had to keep the lights on here."
"It's okay," I say. "Thanks for hosting the afterparty. I can see you dressed to blend in this time, not to impress."
He snorts. "Yeah. I got enough side-eyes from customers to last a lifetime. It was becoming distracting." Then, quieter, a little more real: "And maybe it was time to stop pretending I didn't give a damn about this place."
I smile, warmer this time. "I'm glad. Winston would be proud of you."
His grin falters. He nods. "Yeah."
There's a silence I feel like I should fill. I glance at the floor, then back at him. "Jace… about everything that happened—"
"No." He cuts me off, shaking his head. "No apologies. I'm guessing you've been on a bit of a guilt tour lately."
"You're not wrong," I admit, with a crooked smile. "It's been a busy week of regret and emotional damage control."
"Then give it a break for tonight," he says. "You're here. So are we. That counts for something."
I nod slowly, his words chipping away a little of the guilt I'm carrying.
"Look, I'm not gonna do the blame game," Jace adds, resting his elbows on the counter.
"You weren't yourself. Shit happened. It happens.
Blame just rips people apart. I've seen it—my pack tried that once, and those wounds never fully healed.
Better to forgive, forget, and maybe… give things a second chance.
" His eyes flick to Kayden for a moment and then back to me.
I huff a quiet laugh. "Look at you, all wise and philosophical."
He smirks, puffing his chest a little. "Gotta be. I'm the alpha now."
My eyes widen. "Wait—really?"
He nods, and for a split second his eyes flash that darker amber-yellow. Pride sits easy on him, but it's still new and raw.
"Well, this calls for a drink," I say.
"This calls for tequila," he declares, pulling out the bottle and two shot glasses like a man on a mission.
"Uh, with a few shots of that, you'll be picking me up off the floor," I warn.
He grins. "Then I'll consider it cardio."
We clink glasses and down the first shot. It burns hard but in a good way. He immediately pours another. I raise a brow.
"One more," he says. "For your marriage. The second one. Or is it the third one? I don't know how to count them. Anyway, you're officially bonded to two unhinged psychos and one questionably redeemable vampire. Honestly, Sage, you're the craziest of the bunch for choosing all of them."
I snort, laughing. "I'll drink to that."
We knock back the second shot, and I put my glass away before he can pour a third. "That's it. I want to remember tonight."
I leave the bar and drift back to the others.
My husbands are surrounded—Kayden in the middle of a loud story, Asher looking like he's pretending not to enjoy himself.
Darius talking to Ru, who is nursing his sore arm with an exaggerated motion.
Donna and Astrid are arguing about music choices, Tomas shaking his head like a tired parent.
For a moment, I just stand there, watching.
After everything, the blood and loss and all the ways we broke each other, they showed up. They're here, laughing, living, celebrating something good.
Us.
And gods, I'm grateful.
Asher's eyes find mine across the room. He crosses the floor with that quiet, deliberate authority of his and draws me into a slow dance.
"In the mood for dancing, are we, Colonel?" I murmur, arching a brow.
He pulls me a little closer. "It's my wife's wedding. Might as well."
A dry laugh escapes me. "Yeah. That's… still strange."
"Strange doesn't even begin to cut it," he says. "But here we are."
"Here we are," I echo, softer this time. Then, with a half-smirk, I add, "So… spyware on my phone, huh? And here I was counting on your morals."
His smile flickers, a little guilty, a little smug. "Seems you have a way of bending my moral compass."
"Ah, blame the victim. Am I with the wrong brother?" My grin widens.
He twirls me harder, dipping me low, his breath close to my ear. "We're both wrong in the best ways," he murmurs, before pulling me upright again. His tone shifts, quieter now. "I'd prefer not to erase it. Too much can still go wrong."
I nod, the thought sobering me. A lot already has.
Then, meeting his eyes, I ask, "Speaking of right and wrong… do you think we can make this work? This whole… aggregate marriage?"
He tilts his head, considering it. Not feeding me some empty reassurance, but really thinking it through.
"I don't know," he says. "There'll be emotional pitfalls. Logistical ones too. But I know we'll try." He looks at me. "Are you happy?"
I pause for a second. Then nod. "I am. It feels like something settled. Like I stopped fighting myself."
"Then that's all that matters," he says, voice low. Then, more wryly: "Though I'll be surprised if Kayden and Darius don't end up in a fistfight sometime in the first year."
A familiar voice cuts in behind us. "I leave you alone for five minutes and you're already talking shit about me, brother."
"Only the truth," Asher replies, and with the barest smirk, he spins me right into Kayden's arms.
Kayden catches me smoothly, and the rhythm shifts. His version of a dance is less graceful, more chaos-with-a-beat. And he's drunk. Not sloppy, but just enough for his emotions to start leaking through the cracks.
"Enjoying yourself?" I ask, watching his face, trying to read what's underneath the grin.
"At my wife's wedding?" he says, voice slurring slightly. "Sure am, sunshine." He twirls me again, a little too fast.
"Kayden."
"Sage."
"Be real with me for a second," I say. "Are you okay?"
He exhales, shoulders dropping, head swaying like a lazy pendulum before he steadies.
"I wasn't thrilled about sharing you with Asher. Took me a bit to get past that. Turns out it's not so bad. Kinda hot, honestly." He smirks faintly, then sobers. "But now? We're adding a third man. Your ex. The one who almost burned me alive. Twice. Whom we tried to kill. Who tried to kill us."
"Yeah, I know," I mutter.
"Yeah," he echoes. "So am I stoked about this whole merry arrangement? No. Not really. But I'll give it a shot. Because seeing you like this—" his voice dips, "back to yourself. Smiling again. It's the best damn thing I've felt in weeks."
He pauses. Then adds, quieter, "And Darius… he's a self-important, arrogant, smug bastard…"
"True," I murmur.
"…but he's not the worst creature out there," Kayden finishes. "By a long shot."
I press my lips together, amused despite myself. "I'll be sure to pass along your glowing endorsement."
He laughs and pulls me back in, arms solid around me. "We'll be all right, nymph. We will."
I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest, trying to believe him. Trying to let it settle in my bones that we'll be fine. That this wild, impossible thing we're building might actually hold.
I'm tipsy in the best way. That mellow, fuzzy kind that makes the night feel soft around the edges. The four of us step out of Cole's into air that's strangely warm for the hour.
Darius walks beside me. Asher and Kayden just ahead. My three husbands and I, going toward the parking lot like we're part of something normal.
The wind shifts. It picks up fast, twisting into spirals, pulling leaves into chaotic dances across the ground. A flash of lightning splits the sky. Thunder answers like a warning.
And then everything stops. Us. The air. The world.
I feel it before I see him. The energy wraps around us, vast, ancient, and wrong.
Kayden murmurs, "What the—"
A figure walks out from the shadows, each step casual, unhurried. The kind of walk that says: I've never once been prey.
At first, the shape blurs. I blink, but he's already resolving, like the stars themselves are pulling him into focus. The moonlight sharpens, catching on the edges of him.
He's tall. Ridiculously tall. Shoulders broad, frame carved like it remembers war and pleasure in equal measure. Olive skin, dark curls, a jaw you could sculpt from marble. And his eyes… purple. Not human. Something cosmic and magnetic. Like looking into the birth of galaxies.
I take half a step back before I even realize I've moved. My body knows what my brain is still trying to process. Danger.
Darius moves in front of me. Asher and Kayden shift protectively, bracing for the stranger.
The man laughs. His laughter rings out, echoing off every surface like the sound of spring breaking loose. Flowers blooming. Wine spilling. Madness unfolding.
"Well, well," he says, voice thick with charm and something darker underneath. "A satyr, two vampires, and a dark nymph walk out of a bar. And I get to write what happens next."
My pulse stutters.
"Please," Darius says, his voice tight. "Let me explain."
If Darius is afraid, we should all be terrified.
"Explain?" The man tilts his head. "No need."
He flicks his wrist.
The air splits open. Darius jerks as invisible claws rake across his chest, tearing bloody lines through his shirt, the gash so deep, I'm afraid it hit bone. He hits his knees with a strangled gasp.
I scream. Before the sound's echo can quiet, Asher and Kayden move in a blur, attacking the stranger.
He doesn't even look. One blink and he's behind me, solid and immovable. His arm snakes around my waist, his hand gripping my neck—not hard, but enough to show me how easily he could break it. His body hums with raw, electric power, heat radiating through me like molten sunlight.
"That was cute," he murmurs, his breath brushing my ear. "Team vampire. I almost felt it."
"Who are you?" Asher asks, controlled, cold fury lacing his words, but I see the tension in his posture. He's ready to move, yet frozen with calculation. One wrong step and I'm gone.
The man laughs again, and the sound vibrates through the air like music. Like madness. "Who am I? I've had many names. The one who drinks and dances. The one who devours and delights. The one of rapture and ecstasy."
His fingers trail along my jaw with a mockery of tenderness.
"I'm the one who loves a party," he whispers, voice hot against my ear. "Care to guess, little nymph?"
My lips part, trembling. I know. I can feel it in every nerve. "Dionysus."
Darius bows his head, blood dripping from the gash in his chest, pain and horror etched into his face. Asher's knuckles whiten as he clenches his fists. Kayden looks bewildered and speechless for the first time.
The god grins, purple eyes blazing like I've just passed his test. "Bingo. Knew you were the clever one."
He leans in, lips brushing the curve of my cheek.
"I think you and I are overdue for a little... private celebration."
And then—
We vanish.
His laughter follows us, echoing through the air like music no sane person should ever dance to.