“I’m going to touch your head.”
“Okay.” Jules gently lifted Sage’s head off the floor as he scooted closer, lending Sage some comfort when he found his cheek pressing against Jules’ leg. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah. Telling me you were going to beforehand helps a lot.” For some reason being near Jules didn’t creep him out the way that most everyone else did. Maybe because Jules knew, to some degree, what it was like to go through something traumatic and come out on the other side less than you were before. Also, Jules was the very last person on the face of the planet who would hurt anyone. He was a gentle soul.
Chapter Three
Sage didn’t know who he was anymore. He had three versions of himself rattling around in his mind: the Sage before the kidnapping, the Sage after it, and the Sage he should be. Ironically enough, thebeforeSage and theshould-beSage weren’t the same. ThebeforeSage didn’t have a mate. He had a good life in Saint Lakes and was content. Theshould-beSage was the one with a mate, the one who needed to bond and make a relationship work. He was the one who wanted to be next to his mate at all times. TheafterSage was the worst one, the one who grabbed hold of him most often. The one who kept him imprisoned inside his own head.
Sometimes he wasn’t anything at all. He didn’t exist. Sage walked through Estelle’s house like a ghost. He felt…unseen and had felt that way for the better part of a month.
Estelle had stopped trying to talk to him days ago. Even Jules was staying away. Whatever vibe he gave off made talking impossible. Maybe they were just tired of his weirdness. Whatever the reason, it just further perpetuated that invisiblefeeling.
Up until he had met his mate, Sage had been able to fake it enough to believe he was a relevant person. Garridan leaving with Bennett and Lucas that night, all those weeks ago, seemed to zap whatever energy he’d had left. It seemed whatever battle he had been fighting within himself, he had lost. He was spiralling down, falling farther into that hole of depression.
Sage went into the living room and sat on the couch. He brought his legs up to his chest, perching like a bird, for several minutes before Ladon sat next to him.
Sage got up, moving away.
Ladon rolled his eyes. “Dude. Really?”
“Sorry,” Sage mumbled as he started out of the room. He’d just go to his room so he wouldn’t offend anyone. He wanted to be alone anyway.
“Sage.”
Sage stopped walking and turned, meeting Ladon’s gaze. “What?”
“You’re not as alone as you think.”
Sage walked to the couch again, sitting down. He perched on the end of the couch cushion as if he were getting ready to bolt. “I feel like it sometimes.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that. Look, I don’t know how you feel.”
“Thank the gods for that,” Sage said under his breath.
“But I’m still here for you if you want to talk. Even if you just want to hang out and watch television.” Ladon picked up the remote and held it up, as if Sage needed a visual aid to help him decipher Ladon’s words.
Sage nodded and didn’t say anything.
“I’m just saying. I’m your friend. Don’t forget that you have them.”
“Thanks.”
“So, television?”
“Sure.” He sat there for a few minutes, watching some show about bears in Alaska. The commentator’s voice relaxed him to the point he settled into the couch cushions.
“Have you been sleeping lately?” Ladon asked, startling him.
“Not really.”
“Go take a nap. I’ll wake you for dinner.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to sleep.”
“Just try. You might feel better if you do.”
Sage doubted it. It would get worse when the nightmares came. It always did. Still, he stood and walked to his room. It was the one Garridan had been put in and Sage had commandeered it for himself. It had smelled like Garridan for days afterward, which had comforted Sage. The smell had faded, though.
