Page 102 of Savage Thirst

Forty minutes later, I hear the car outside. I open the door and wait, arms crossed. Eira steps out first, composed as ever. Night shifts never seem to frazzle her.

Sage follows.

She looks good. Confident stride. Eyes clear. No visible disorientation. The only sign of what happened is a fresh bandage on her arm.

"You sure about this?" I ask, skipping pleasantries. "I can pay for a hotel."

She meets my eyes. "Do you want to bite me?"

Always. But not like that.

What I say is, "No. I'm in control."

"Then I'm good." She smiles, small, but steady, and walks past me into the house.

I shake my head, exhaling through my nose.

"I have to get back," Eira says, returning to the car. "Take care of her."

"I owe you one."

"You don't," she replies. "It's what we do here."

And then she's gone.

I close the door and follow Sage into the house.

She stands near the fireplace, watching the flames crackle. The moonlight from the window cuts across her figure, casting cold silver against one side, while the firelight paints the other in warmth.

"You look better," I say.

She nods. "Eira helped. She also stopped in an old grove on the way. Just ten minutes there did more than the IV drip." Her voice softens. "It… grounded me. Healed the inside."

I allow myself a small smile. "You nymphs are mysterious creatures."

She turns toward me. "We are, I guess. Even I don't fully understand what I am."

A beat passes.

"Did you see Kayden?" she asks, stepping further into the room.

"Not since he found me," I answer.

She stops in the center, eyes on me. "And how are you?"

"I'm fine." I stay where I am. "But this… this situation is dangerous. You shouldn't stay."

Even as I say it, the words feel wrong in my mouth. Like betrayal.

She looks away, but not before I catch the flicker of pain. "Is that what you want?" she asks. "For me to go?"

"No." My voice drops lower. "But it's what makes sense. At least until the druid arrives. Maybe she can explain what's happening. With you. With your blood."

She looks back. Our eyes lock, and in that silence, everything else fills the space—the tension, the memory of what passed between us, the ache of what I let happen.

It would be easier to make her leave if not for what I've already allowed to grow… if not for how badly I want her to stay.

"What do you want?" I ask, voice steady.