Page 89 of The Shadow Sanctum

And yet…

“Yes.”

He runs his hands down my arms and takes both of my hands. “Then I need you to trust that it isn’t the water. And the source has been taken care of.”

The words land like glass in my stomach. Taken care of. By him? By Angel? By whom?

I should press…

But if I do that, I’ll have to hate him. And I don’t know that I’m capable.

“Was it an accident?” I whisper. Already afraid of the answer.

Sawyer nods. His grip is steady, his gaze unflinching, and for now, I let myself believe him.

Only for a breath.

Then the panic claws back. “What do we do to save them?” My voice cracks, jagged with the weight of it. “Will they heal on their own? What⁠—”

“No,” he says with certainty. “The bacteria they’ve ingested is deadly… It’s supposed to take at least a week to kill, but with the Dregs already dropping…”

My face chills as blood drains. “They need treatment.”

“Antibiotics,” Sawyer clarifies. The word falls between us like a forbidden spell. In the Sanctum, medicine might as well be witchcraft. Still, my heart lurches at the sound of it, equal parts relief and fear.

He speaks like a man not quite desperate. Like a man who’s already taking care of this on his own.

What does it say about me that I want him to? What does it say about my leadership, my faith, my character?

I look away and pull my hands from his.

“Luna… Without them, they’ll die.”

“Ye of little faith,” I huff. “Isn’t that what you said to my people?”

“To the deranged fucking cult?”

My eyes widen, and I snap my gaze to him like he struck me. His words sting just the same.

I drag in a breath sharp enough to burn. “What did you just say?”

Sawyer doesn’t flinch. He stands there, shoulders squared, eyes locked on mine with a steadiness that feels almost cruel. “The Shadow Sanctum is a cult, Luna. A baby selling, little girl raping, elderly slaying cult… Biology doesn’t give a fuck about your faith. If you don’t do something, more people are going to die.”

My throat tightens, shame and fury warring until the only thing that comes out is a rasp. “This is who I am. I understand if you don’t agree with my theology, but⁠—”

“Does it matter what I agree with? Does it matter what either of us believes at this point? Or can we just agree that something has to be done? What should we do—pray? Throw flowers in a circle and chant?”

I shake my head, more out of habit than conviction. “You don’t understand. We don’t bring things like that in here. If I even suggest it, the people will⁠—”

“It’s over, Luna.” His voice drops lower, cutting, merciless. “The Sanctum’s days are numbered. The cops are circling as we speak, and…” His face flashes with something I almost don’t catch.

Dread.

“You’re going to be the person they cuff first… Do you really want to be responsible for the deaths of dozens of children before they get the chance?”

The ground shifts beneath my boots and draws my eyes to the snow. For as long as I’ve been alive, the Shadow Sanctum has been everything—our world, our order, our law. To hear him say it’s already gone… It's like he’s tearing away my anchor.

I take a shaky step back. “When they come for their blood, I’ll offer up my father. The Shadow Sanctum will⁠—”