I shift my grip, force her arms behind her back, bending her in a way that strains muscles and nerves. It's not clean or soft. I know it hurts.
She gasps, squirming hard now.
"Yeah, that's it. Fight me. Just like old times."
I hiss it into her hair, letting the tension coil around us like a storm.
"I made you a promise, Sage. One way or another, we'll get you back. Or weallgo down in the process."
"Do it, then," she snaps. "Go ahead."
I don't hesitate. My fangs drop, fast and sharp, and I bite. I sink in hard.
She screams, and it hits me like a drug. Her blood floods my mouth, but it's changed. Twisted. Still heady, still hers, but the nectar sweetness is gone. There's an edge now, a bitter static riding under the surface.
But I drink. Not to feed, but to force. To remind her. To burn through the dark.
She thrashes against me, but I hold on. I drink until I feel her trembling, until her fear flares like fire under her skin.
Then I pull back. No need for Asher's signal. I know when to stop.
I shove her forward, into the center of our little monster circle.
She stumbles, blood dripping from her neck, her breathing ragged. Her eyes dart between us wildly. A cornered animal now, not the dark queen. Not in control anymore.
"Thought I was bluffing?" I ask, blood on my lips. I grin, wide and wicked. "I don't joke about this shit."
Darius steps in with silent, deadly calm. Asher closes the triangle, his eyes hard.
"You wanted monsters?" I spit, letting the bloodlust simmer in my voice. "Congratulations, sweetheart. You got three. And we're not done."
"You're insane. You're all completely insane," she spits, then bolts for the door.
Too slow.
Asher snatches her by the arm. She turns on him like a wild animal—scratching, punching, kicking. No technique, just pure, frantic survival.
He doesn't flinch, absorbing the blows with that iron calm of his. Then he moves, swift and precise. He grabs her wrist, twists it behind her back, and drops her to the ground in one fluid motion. His knee pins her between her shoulder blades, locked down.
She goes still, panting and trembling.
I know my brother. He hates doing this. But he does what he has to. Always has.
"You're not getting away," he says. "There's nowhere to run. Only us."
He applies enough pressure to make her gasp in pain.
"Please, Asher," she breathes. Her voice fractures like glass. "Please…"
He stays still. "Please what?"
"Please… keep hurting me." The words come out like a broken prayer. "Because when you do… nothing else hurts. Not what I did. Not what I am…"
Her body curls in on itself. The tears come. Real ones, messy and raw. No venom in her eyes. Just Sage.
Our Sage.
The three of us look at one another.
