SAGE
"How do you feel, Sage?"
The voice echoed inside my head, too close, too intimate to belong to the world I knew. And it was familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time.
It wasn’t Darius. And it wasn’t Adam. It was someone else... a woman. Yet, not Makeh.
My eyes fluttered open, one lagging behind the other as confusion wrapped thickly around me. For a heartbeat, I thought I was still in Peter’s living room—still slumped on the couch, waiting, listening, breathing in the familiar.
But that wasn’t where I was.
The couch was gone. Everything was gone.
I lay suspended in a gray void, an endless stretch of nothingness that pulsed faintly, like static trapped between worlds. The air looked dry—felt dry—dust particles floating aimlessly, catching on no light source I could identify.
It reminded me of an abandoned joint unit, the kind sealed off for decades, stale and forgotten. My throat burned instantly. I was thirsty. Achingly so.
I tried to swallow and failed.
Panic stirred immediately. I turned my head, searching for edges, walls, anything—but there was nothing. Just gray layered upon gray.
When I tried to sit up, my body refused to respond, as though gravity had decided I no longer deserved its cooperation.
"What the hell?" I whispered, though no sound carried.
My heart began to pound. Was I dreaming?
Had the Queen finally found me?
The implication was a certain coldness settling within me, almost numbing me.
Had she accessed Peter’s memories during the meeting? Found the tether I’d left behind? Dragged me here while I sat foolishly waiting, thinking myself safe?
I stopped, forcing myself to breathe—if breathing even mattered here.
No. This didn’t feel like her.
The Queen’s magic was invasive, cruel, heavy with intent. This place felt... detached. Observational. Like I had stepped into the space between a thought and its conclusion.
Still, unease crawled up my spine.
Where was the voice that had awakened me?
Then I saw movement.
The dust ahead of me twisted, spiraling inward, thickening until it formed the vague outline of a person. I squinted, instinctively bracing myself—only to recoil when the shape resolved into a woman.
Her. The same woman who had warned me earlier that day. Of course that’s why the voice had been familiar.
Earlier... today?
The realization stunned me. It felt impossible that so much had happened in a single day—bloodshed, betrayal, death...
She stepped closer, her form sharpening. She looked different now.
Before, she’d worn simple robes, unassuming, her hair pulled back loosely as though she belonged to no particular time. Now, her attire was layered—dark fabric shot through with faint silver threads that shimmered when she moved.
Symbols I didn’t recognize were stitched into the hem. Her hair flowed freely down her back, black with streaks of white that didn’t look like age but intention. Her eyes were the most unsettling part—pale, almost colorless, like fog over still water.
"How do you feel?" she repeated.
Yes, it was her voice surely... There was no mistaking it now.
"Who are you?" I asked, ignoring the dryness in my throat, studying her face, bypassing her question.
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she tilted her head slightly, as though assessing something fragile. "You should be careful of your steps from henceforth," she said calmly. "You’re walking on very thin ice."
My lips pressed together.
"You warned me," I said. "And I still went ahead. Is that why I’m here?"
She didn’t deny it.
"You didn’t listen," she continued. "And because of that, consequences will come. Not just to you. But for everyone around you..."
A chill crept through me.
"But," she added, causing my breath to bate. "Your ability to do your best—to save what remains of the world from the chaos ahead—will depend on this."
"On what?" I demanded.
She finally met my gaze fully. "On relying on your friends," she said. "And not barreling into things alone."
The words hit harder than I expected. Was this about the Queen?
About my plan to kill her?
Doubt flickered. Maybe I should have listened to El. Maybe this reckless momentum I kept throwing myself into would finally destroy more than just me.
The woman sighed softly, almost amused. "You never listen," she said. "Even now... not even with the additional life force in you—the one called El."
My jaw tightened. "What do you know about El?" I snapped.
But she was already turning away.
Her form began to dissolve back into the dust, her voice drifting behind her like an echo fading down a long corridor. "Remember all I’ve said, Sage."
"Wait—" I tried to call after her.
Something tapped my shoulder.
I startled violently, the gray void collapsing inward as darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring straight into Diana’s.
"Sage!" she exclaimed, relief flooding her features as she pulled me into a fierce hug.
I gasped, air rushing back into my lungs like I’d been drowning. My body felt heavy, solid again, painfully real. I clung to her for a second longer than necessary before clearing my throat and easing back.
"I’m fine," I said automatically, though my voice sounded thin even to me.
I straightened in the chair, then stood abruptly, moving on instinct. I hugged Peter first, then Laura, then Diana again, grounding myself in their warmth, their reality.
When we finally sat, pleasantries were exchanged—but Laura was watching me too closely.
"Sage," she said gently, "what’s going on?"
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You look shaky," she replied. "And... distant."
Before I could answer, she frowned. "Why didn’t you come to the meeting the Queen called? Or weren’t you aware?"
My head snapped up. "A meeting about?"
Diana clapped her hands together, excitement bubbling over. "It was huge," she said. "The Queen said the Lycan kings sent papers for us to surrender."
I stared at her. "Surrender?"
"Yes! You can imagine their guts..." Diana continued. "Apparently they demanded a witch for their yearly sports, and when she refused, this happened. So we’re attacking the pack tomorrow."