CHAPTER ONE
Sage
"I… I can explain," I manage, though the words feel like ash in my mouth.
What am I even trying to explain? That I was—am—engaged to Darius Hawthorn, the same ancient, all-powerful satyr I claimed to be running from? That I withheld the truth from the two vampires I now share a home, a bed, a life with?
They already know the worst part.
"I just—"
"Later," Asher cuts me off, his tone sharp.
He turns away from me without hesitation, and I feel the space between us become a chasm.
"Eira, are you well enough?" he asks. The banshee nods once. She's pale, trembling faintly, but upright.
"Patch up Jace."
"I'm fine," Jace mutters. "I'm already—"
"Jace," Winston snaps. The young coyote shifter bites his tongue.
Asher gives Winston a short nod. That commanding presence clicks into place, the soldier in him rising. Suddenly, we're all following orders.
"Winston, I need every book that might help us counter them. Anything you've got on satyrs, forest creatures, protection spells—collect it all. When you're ready, meet us at the house."
"Will do, Colonel," Winston responds.
Asher turns to Eira. "Try Maeve again. Offer more money if you have to. I don't care what it takes. But don't go alone. If she agrees to come, you go with backup. They'll pick us off if we move solo."
"I'll try," Eira says. "I don't know if she'll come, but I'll do my best."
Asher doesn't pause. "Astrid, Donna, Tomas, arm up. Go to the stash."
"All of it?" Astrid asks, one brow arched, lips curled in anticipation.
"All of it," Asher says. "We don't know what we'll need."
They start moving without hesitation, orders received, mission in motion.
Only then Asher turns to me.
"Get in the car, Sage."
His voice is colder now.
"Asher—"
"Get in the car." Not a polite ask.
I get it. It burns, but I get it.
He doesn't glance at Kayden, but the younger brother speaks anyway.
"I'll take mine. See you back," he says. His eyes find mine for a brief moment. They burn with hurt, betrayal, and fury, but he says nothing and turns away.
I climb into Asher's car, my limbs moving on instinct, guilt coiled like barbed wire in my chest. The silence between us is suffocating. He drives with perfect control, just under the speed limit, no sudden movements, but never once looks at me.
