Page 104 of Sage Haven

The way he’d said it—it was cold. Detached. Like it was inevitable.

What was he going to do with me?

What was I supposed to do for him?

And why did a part of me still wonder if I was safer here than anywhere else?

That was the darkest part of all.

The door creaked open.

I froze, spine snapping straight as my breath hitched. My pulse pounded against the inside of my throat, wild and fast.

Heavy footsteps crossed the threshold. Measured. Unhurried.

Reich.

He filled the space like gravity itself, dragging my gaze to him whether I wanted it or not. The dim light caught the sharp edges of his face, painting shadows beneath his cheekbones. His hazel eyes glowed faintly, cutting through the gloom.

In one hand, he carried a basic white ceramic plate—filled with breakfast foods. In the other, a glass of orange juice. Beads of condensation clung to the glass, a slow drip of water tracing its path toward his fingers.

He crossed the room without a word, setting both down on the dresser. His movements were fluid. Controlled. As if this was just another ordinary morning.

"Breakfast," he said simply. His voice low and disarming.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t trust it.

I didn’t trust him.

I kept my eyes on the floor, on the empty space between us. But the tension coiled tighter anyway, until it was suffocating.

"I’m not hungry," I said, forcing my voice to stay flat, even as it rasped in my dry throat.

"You need to eat." His tone didn’t shift. It was a statement of fact. A quiet expectation. But under it, there was something else. Something that stirred the air between us and made my skin prickle.

I lifted my gaze, searching his face for a reason.

"Why am I here?" I asked.

The silence that followed wasn’t unexpected. It was the same answer I always got.

Nothing.

But I still felt the sting.

I stood anyway. My legs wobbled, but I didn’t care. I crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps until I stood in front of him, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

"How long will I be here?" I demanded. "Can you at least tell me that?"

Again, silence.

A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he said nothing.

I scoffed. Shook my head like it might shake him loose. I turned away, ready to retreat to the only corner of this room that felt like mine.

But he grabbed me.