The urge to go to her almost wins. I stay still. I've seen this before. Vulnerability as a mask. The monster's mimicry of the woman I love.
"Let me go," she whispers.
"If letting you go means allowing you to fall deeper into this darkness," I say, voice low, "then no. I won't. Because I love you, Sage, more than I've ever loved anyone. And I'd rather have you alive and hating me than lost forever."
The words land heavy between us. It's the first time I've said them aloud, though they've been burning through me for a long time.
I rise, take one small step closer. My voice softens. "I won't give up on you. That's what love is—fighting even when it hurts, holding on when every instinct says let go. I love you too much to stop trying."
Her face shifts. The tears dry. The warmth dies. The mask drops completely, and what looks back at me isn't my wife.
"What a pathetic speech," she sneers. "I wonder, what made me want you in the first place. Maybe you came with thepackage, that's all there was to it." She lunges again. The chains jerk tight. "I never loved you, and I never will. So take your monk nonsense and choke on it, Colonel. I'm not coming back. This is all you get."
My jaw tightens. I tell myself to breathe, to keep calm. But even discipline has limits, and mine's cracking under the weight of what's left of her voice.
I nod once, curt, and turn away.
Her cold laughter follows. "Giving up so easily, Colonel? Knew you would."
The hallway feels too bright when I step out. Morning light filters through the windows. I've been down there all night.
Donna's asleep on the sofa, half-wrapped in a blanket. Tomas sits in the corner, still reading. Maeve's back, coffee in hand, eyes flicking nervously toward the garden where dead plants lie black and brittle.
Kayden looks up first. One glance, and he knows. He doesn't ask. His shoulders stay tight, his jaw set. Darius is nearby, tie gone, shirt rumpled, hair disordered. The closest I've ever seen him to broken.
"She's not ready," I say. My voice sounds like gravel. "But she's in there. The real Sage. She knows what she's done, even if she hides behind it. I can't tell if it's fear or calculation, but she understands what it would mean to feel again."
Donna stirs, blinking awake. "So… what now?"
I glance at my brother. He frowns, shakes his head once. "Not yet," he mutters.
"I can go," Donna says, standing and stretching. "But I don't want to do it alone."
"I'll go with you," Tomas says quietly.
I nod in agreement. I don't know if it'll help, but I can't let her drown in that darkness alone. Maybe if she sees faces sheknows, hears voices that once meant safety, the real Sage will start finding her way back to us.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Sage
The thirst is savage, ripping through me until every nerve feels raw.
I reach again for the world outside, clawing for any pulse of nature left to drain, but I've taken everything. It's empty. Dead.
And I need blood. Desperately.
Now.
I clench my fists, strain against the chains. My skin feels too tight for my body, my gums ache, fangs out.
But they won't win.
They want me compliant. Controlled.
They won't win.
The door creaks open. Light cuts through the dark.
