"No," he agrees easily, cutting a measured bite of food. "Influence is still influence. Even when it works on emotions, on nudges, instead of commands."
I lean forward, nails digging into my palm under the table. "You said you never used it on me. Is that true?"
He drops his gaze. A long pause. Then: "No."
I knew it. The confirmation lands heavy, my stomach knotting even though part of me expected it. I keep my eyes locked on him, waiting for the blow.
"The first time you came to us—when Darlene brought you—you were wild. Out of your mind with fear. Distrustful. Hurt by the ache of nature clawing at you, and you didn't even know what it meant. You were feral, Sage. A nymph on the edge of breaking." He swirls his glass. "I used my influence to calm you. To quiet the panic, and let you see past fight-or-flight long enough to breathe. That was the only time."
"I don't believe you." My voice comes out weaker than I want, conviction slipping. "I know that satyr's powers strengthen when bonded to a nymph. You made sure I said yes when you proposed. That I… that I would feelsomethingfor you." I choke on the word love, dodging it like poison.
"If power was all I wanted," he says, leaning in, steady, "why take a year to court you? To dine with you, talk with you, learn you. Body, mind, soul. I could have taken what I wanted quickly. But I didn't."
I grit my teeth. "Or maybe you needed time to make it stick. Maybe you're lying now."
"I could be," he says simply. "And I can't prove otherwise. I can only tell you the truth and hope you can hear it." His voice softens, earnest in a way that makes my chest twist. "Sage, the bond goes both ways. It wouldn't just feed me, it would strengthen you. If all I wanted was more power, don't you think I'd be married to every nymph who works for me?"
"I know you were married at least once before," I say, testing the words, watching for a reaction.
Darius exhales heavily, leaning back, and for the first time tonight, his composure is shadowed by something ancient, something carved centuries ago. "So Sybil told you that, too."
My stomach tightens. "You know it was her?"
The nymph who whispered truths to me, who gave me the undercurrents, just enough to follow the trail myself.
He nods, slow and solemn. "Yes. When you ran, we investigated everyone, traced every step. I needed to know how you uncovered what you did, and Sybil's part became clear soon enough."
I swallow hard, my voice barely steady. "What… what happened to her?"
"She was reassigned," he answers.
I tilt my head, unsure if it's an euphemism.
"She is working at our research station in Siberia," Darius clarifies.
"Oh." The word slips out as I wince. "That must be miserable for her."
A tropical forest nymph buried in ice and permafrost.
"That is the point of a punishment," he replies without hesitation, finishing his glass. "As for my previous marriage… yes. I was married to a nymph. Once. One thousand six hundred and forty-four years ago, if you want precision."
My pulse skips. "And she died."
His gaze holds mine openly. "She was taken from me and murdered… It was my fault."
The wine tastes bitter as it burns down my throat. "Murdered by who?"
"Dionysus."
The name slams into me. My eyes widen. "Thegod?"
He inclines his head, voice quieter now, almost reverent. "Our god. Yes. I made a mistake, defied him in something I thought small, but he did not. He took his wrath out on her, even as I begged him to take me instead."
I slump back in my chair, air knocked out of me. I braced to hear manipulation, cold confessions, but notthis. Not grief braided with mythology, a heartbreak that still bleeds across centuries.
"It was a long time ago, Sage," he says, steady again. "It has nothing to do with you. Or with us."
I exhale shakily, trying to anchor myself, but my thoughts won't settle. The servers clear the plates. I don't remember eating the last course.
