His jaw is locked, his knuckles white against the wheel, and I know that if I speak now, I'll only make things worse.
The ride is short. The house rises before us too soon for comfort. And I know that the conversation we're about to have won't be an easy one.
CHAPTER TWO
Sage
When we step inside, Kayden is already there, waiting, pacing, halfway through the first glass of scotch. Or maybe his second. He doesn't look drunk, just lit from within by something far more combustible.
The heavy door thuds closed behind me.
I move toward the couch, legs like lead, trying to gather my thoughts into something coherent.
"Sit," Asher says, nodding at the cushions like I'm a civilian being debriefed.
I sit.
This is familiar territory—two vampires, two different approaches, me caught in the middle. Only this time, they're not trying to decide whether I'm a threat.
This time, I've already hurt them both.
Asher stands in front of me, arms folded behind his back, spine like a steel rod, expression carved from frost. A soldier waiting for the intel drop. Or a confession.
Kayden, meanwhile, is draped against the drink counter, dangerous in his casual sprawl. His smirk isn't the playful oneI've grown to expect. Instead, it's laced with venom, brittle and sharp.
"All right," he says, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Let's hear it. The fairytale romance of the runaway nymph and the demonic deer king."
"Kayden—"
He cuts me off. "To the bride-to-be," he adds, voice dripping with poison. "Never got a chance to congratulate you. Should I bring a gift? Bouquet? Maybe a diamond-studded blade, since stabbing people in the back seems to be your thing. Are we invited to the wedding, or is it more of a bloodline-only affair?"
"Kayden, I—" I try.
But he continues, the words pouring out of him in a torrent of frustration and fury. "You know, I got to admit, I didn't see this coming—you being royal-engaged to a sadistic satyr kingpin? It's so Shakespearean." His voice carries a sarcastic edge but I can feel the hurt he's trying not to show.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. The words are there, they just can't get past the weight in my chest.
"I was going to tell you," I manage. "I didn't plan for any of this to happen. With you. With him showing up. I thought I had time. I didn't know how—"
"You didn't know how we'd react," Asher says, his voice cold enough to hurt. "That's what this comes down to, doesn't it? You didn't trust us to handle the truth. You let us fight for you. Bleed for you. But you never told us who we were protecting you from."
My heart twists. "It wasn't like that."
Kayden laughs. A single, dry, bitter bark. "Wasn't it?" He paces closer, glass in hand, eyes gleaming with the same rage I saw outside. "What are we, Sage? A detour? A distraction while you play rebel on the run? We thought we mattered, while all this time, you were betrothed to the bastard you claimed to fear."
Kayden drains the glass and pours another, hand steady, jaw clenched. He offers the bottle to Asher, who doesn't even glance at it.
Kayden snorts. "Right. Of course. Colonel's too focused for liquor. Got to plan the next strategy, right? Like how to keep the bride safe from her own damn wedding."
I close my eyes, swallowing hard.
"The way he held you," Asher says slowly, every word deliberate. "The way he looked at you, that was… familiarity. Intimacy. The engagement wasn't against your will."
It's not a question.
I inhale sharply, trying not to splinter under the weight of their judgment. My gaze drops to the floor. I can't meet his eyes. Not when I'm about to hand him the truth like a knife to the chest.
"I said yes to him willingly," I whisper. "Darius was… my mentor first. At a time when I didn't know what I was, when I thought I was going mad. He taught me about my nature, gave me a place, a role, something that felt like belonging. He cared. At least, I thought he did. And over time, over a few years, it… grew into something more."
