Page 223 of Sage Haven
I stared at her.
At the way her dress clung to her like it belonged there. At the gleam in her eyes, sharp and bright and so fucking alive. And then the realization hit me like a blade between the ribs.
She was in control.
Heat pooled low in my gut, hot and sharp, even as I gritted my teeth.
She had no idea what she was doing to me. Or maybe she did.
Maybe she knew exactly what kind of monster she was going to make me into, and this was her vengeance.
She stepped closer.
Slow. Unhurried.
Her bare feet silent on the concrete and when she leaned in, her lips brushed against my ear, and I felt the tremble that ran through her, even as her voice stayed steady.
“Did you have a nice nap?” she whispered, warm breath fanning over my skin.
I exhaled sharply through my nose, jaw clenched tight, “Sage… what the hell are you doing?”
She tilted her head, watching me like a hunter watches prey that’s finally cornered.
“I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me…” She trailed off, lips curving in a slow, wicked smile. “And making it mine.”
For a second, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Because even beneath all the fire and fury she wore like armor, I could see it. The flicker of pain. The hollow ache she hadn’t been able to bury. And it gutted me.
Her voice softened, cracking just a little. “You saved me from Klay. Even if it was for your own reasons.” She swallowed hard, but her gaze didn’t flinch. “I get that. I even accepted it. But what I don’t understand…” She took a breath that shook at the edges. “Why did you choose to care? To talk to me? Laugh with me? Cry with me? Heal me?” Her throat bobbed as she forced the words out. “And then you rewired me to you, just so you could leave me?”
I had no words.
None that mattered.
None that wouldn’t make this worse.
She stepped back, fingers ghosting over the doorknob like she wasn’t sure whether to turn it or rip it from the door. “When I first came here and sat in that same chair, you asked me who I belonged to.”
Her voice dropped, low and dangerous, like the calm before a storm.
“I think I finally have the answer.”
Then, softer—and deadlier— “I’mnot leaving.”
My pulse hammered against my ribs, but I stayed silent.
Waiting. Watching. Wanting.
She dragged her gaze back to me, her expression unreadable. “If you didn’t want this,” she murmured, “you should’ve let me finish that drink at the festival. Should’ve let surfer boy take me home.” Her smile was sharp as a blade. “Hell, Reich, you should’ve put me out of my misery yourself.” A breath. A beat. “But you didn’t.”
“Sage—” Her name was a warning on my lips.
But she didn’t wait for me to finish. Didn’t give me a chance.
She slipped out the door with a quiet click, leaving nothing but silence in her wake.
Except for the muffled sound of her sobs on the other side of the wall causing something inside me to snap.
I flexed against the poor restraints, slipping free in seconds.
