Page 31 of Sage Haven
“What the hell?” she snapped.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t give her time to react.
She gasped, jerking back in anger.
Eyes narrowing as her hand flexed by her side.
“A warning,” I said.
My tone was cold. Colder than I meant it to be but it was the only way I knew how to keep control.
She straightened in front of me, trying to shake it off, trying to mask the ripple of fear attempting to poke through. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I met her gaze without flinching. “It was spiked.”
For a heartbeat, there was nothing.
Then the color drained from her face. Her fingers trembled at her sides. Not from fear of me it seemed—but of the truth settling into her bones.
The crowd around us erupted into cheers as the next set hit the stage, but she didn’t move.
She stood frozen, caught between fight and flight.
I shifted closer.
Not to crowd her.
To shield her.
I was close enough to feel the shudder in her breath.
I reached out—slow, deliberate—and slipped an arm around her shoulders. Her body tensed for half a second before she relented, letting me turn her toward the stage.
She fit against me too easily.
Too perfectly, and it unsettled me more then I initially thought it would.
“You came here to enjoy the music,” I murmured, my breath brushing her ear, “Let’s make sure you can.”
For a long moment, she didn’t move.
And then… she leaned into me.
A quiet surrender.
Her body softening against mine like it had always been meant to be there.
Her hair brushed against my chin, the wildflowers woven through it brushing my skin like a memory I hadn’t lived yet.
Like something alive, wild and untouchable.
And somehow, I felt… calm.
We stood there as the music poured over us, as the crowd surged and swayed like an ocean caught in a storm, but she was still.
She moved only when I did.
Her body syncing with mine as though we shared some rhythm only the two of us could hear.
