by Dylan Steel
To her surprise, Weston looked away first, his gaze finding her quickly.
“Not only did you fail to do what I requested only this morning,” he growled, “but you’ve once again taken matters into your own hands where you should not.”
Her voice trembled. “I’m sorry, I—”
“This is not the time for apologies, Sage.”
The harshness in her benefactor’s tone was one she was unfamiliar with—and it terrified her. A hint of sadness flickered behind his deep blue eyes as he reached for his bracelet.
“This is the time for consequences.”
The tether.
“No!”
Her eyes widened, and her heart leapt into her throat as time seemed to slow. A familiar snap of electricity spread beneath her skin, and the sharpness of it forced time to speed back up.
She cried out, arching her back against the pain of losing so many of her Chances all at once.
The room darkened from her vision, fading into a sudden night as she crumpled to the floor, struggling to breathe.
So this is what it’s like to die.
22. DARKNESS
Something brushed against Sage’s face, startling her awake. Her eyes slammed open, but it was too dark to see anything. She bolted up, scrambling backward until she knocked into a headboard.
“Easy—easy,” Weston’s deep voice reached through the darkness, trying to calm her nerves. “You’re fine. Just take a breath.”
Leaning forward, he turned on the lamp at her bedside, reassuring her that she was, in fact, still alive. And she was sitting beside the man who—she thought—had just tried to kill her.
“It’s just you and me now. Grayson’s gone. So are the others.”
“What happened?” she demanded, showing more bravado than she felt.
“You’ve been out for a few hours. It’s night now.”
“Out?” She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking.
His brow furrowed as he stared at the empty space on the bed beside her. He tightened his jaw, not answering.
Her gaze dropped to Weston’s wrist—his bracelet. A deathly chill wound itself around her spine, squeezing hard. “It felt like you stripped all my Chances,” she said haltingly, numb. She blinked, trying to look back up into his familiar blue eyes, but they wouldn’t meet hers.
“Grayson wanted to strip all your Chances. I stopped him.”
“So you could do it yourself.” She shook her head slowly, disbelief scrawled across her face as she struggled to keep her voice from trembling. “I guess you must’ve left me with at least one.”
“I hadn’t expected it to be today,” he said quietly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her assessment.
“What?”
He exhaled deeply, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. There was something deep behind them—ageless and full of sorrow.
“I’ve wondered how long it would take for you to go looking for that tech,” he said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Her breathing grew shallower. “I tried to tell you I was sorry, Wes—”
“There’s no need to apologize.”
She looked back at him uncertainly. For some reason, she didn’t think that meant that all was forgiven.
“It was a test, Sage. And you failed it.” Her stomach tumbled into a mess of nerves as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I expected that. I really did. But I didn’t expect it would happen while my estate was filled with benefactors.”
Her nostrils flared. There was no point in maintaining the charade. There never had been any trust between the two of them, nor would there ever be. “I’m sorry my attempt at freedom was inconvenient for you,” she ground out.
A muscle in his jaw strained against his forced calm. “I told you I would protect you, Sage. Even if that means it’s from yourself.”
She lifted her chin, studying him warily. “You mean my Chances? Taking all but one to save me from Grayson? You’re a real hero.”
“Chances are the least of your concerns right now, Sage.”
Her heart pounded against her ribs. What in Eprah’s name is that supposed to mean?
“After the incident in my office, I was forced to extend my regrets and postpone the meeting. I brought you here, and then Martha and I went through your room.”
Sage’s eyes narrowed in anger. Her eyes shot around her room, noticing the disarray for the first time. “You—”
“Oh,” he held up his hand to stop her, “this is absolutely not the time for righteous indignation, Sage.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bracelet. She paled.
“I have to admit, it’s impressive that you were able to procure this. Counterfeits aren’t easy to come by—even for the Lawless. I know no one on my staff would have helped you, so I can only assume you acquired it one of the handful of times we were in the city.” She swallowed hard. Chances didn’t matter in the Peace’s Dungeon. Maybe that was where he intended to send her.
“But that’s a question for another time. What I’m really interested in is this,” he said, exchanging the bracelet for another small object in the same pocket.
Her mouth fell open when she saw her mother’s necklace dangling from his hand. “That’s not yours,” she said with a sudden ferocity that surprised even herself.
Weston’s eyebrow shot up. “Are you telling me it’s yours?”
“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth. “Give it back.”
“I have to wonder,” he said thoughtfully, fingering the gem, “how you managed to get your hands on something so rare and valuable.”
“Its only value is sentimental,” she said angrily, not knowing or caring if there was any truth to his claim. “And if you’re planning on turning me over to the Quorum for treason, then I suggest you get on with it. But I’ll take my necklace back now.”
“You’re certainly not in a position to make demands. I think I’ll hold onto it for awhile.”
“I want it back. Now.”
“I need you to understand something very important right now, Sage.” Weston’s full attention was on her as he pocketed the necklace. “Today, you opened a door that cannot be closed.”
She stared back at him, seething in silent anger.
“Grayson believes he saw me strip all your Chances. Unless I tell him otherwise, he will think you’re dead. So will everyone else. But either way, the events of this afternoon will require an explanation.”
“But I’m not dead.”
“They’ll believe whatever I tell them. You passed out from the pain of losing so many Chances before I finished stripping them. Or I was angry at you for going through my things, and I killed you instantly.” He stared at her intently.
She swallowed hard against the growing lump in her throat. “Which is it?” she asked faintly.
“That depends on you.”
“I think I like the first option better.”
He tilted his head. “You may not think so for long. There are some things I have to tell you, Sage. Once I’m done, we’ll see which scenario is more appropriate.”
“Please, you don’t have to—”
“What if I were to tell you that you’re already wearing a counterfeit bracelet?”
Sage’s eyes widened as she stared back at him. “That’s not possible.”
“It’s quite possible, I assure you. Although it may be more accurate simply to say that the bracelet you’re wearing has been modified.”
“How would you know that?” Her hands were trembling.
“I would think that much was obvious.” He frowned. “I know because I switched your bracelet the same night I found you beaten half to death in the alley, Sage.”
She looked down at her wrist, fingering the smooth metal. It looked exactly the same as she remembered. “That’s not true.”
The corner of Weston’s mouth twitched. “It’s true. Your bracelet hasn’t posed a real danger to you for months now.”
&nbs
p; “But I—I’ve had Chances stripped. And I’m tethered,” she protested. Carnabel had stripped a Chance when they’d visited Perjaash, and Weston had nearly finished the job tonight.
“It’s been modified to respond normally—with one very important exception,” he explained. “If you were actually to lose all your Chances, you wouldn’t be killed—you’d be rendered unconscious for a few hours. The state you’d be in—with your heart rate slowed to next to nothing, your breathing so shallow as to be almost nonexistent—you’d certainly appear dead to the casual observer.”
Sage’s lips parted. She looked down at the bed she was lying on and then back up at him. “You’re saying that’s what you did. You stripped all my Chances tonight—you meant to kill me,” she said accusingly.
“I knew it wouldn’t kill you. And you know I’ve done nothing but protect you.” Weston looked affronted. “But if Grayson had been the one to strip all your Chances until he knew there were none left to take—as he was about to—you wouldn’t be able to come back to life. Not without casting a serious shadow over me and my loyalties, which I can’t allow. I’m sure you understand.”
“You’re saying you’d have to kill me?”
“No.” Weston’s brows dipped in pain. “But I am saying you would lose even the smallest taste of the freedom you so obviously crave. Your time here with me would not be unlike your time here all those years ago.”
“Why?” Of the hundreds of questions tumbling through her mind, it was all she could manage.
“If I tell you once again that this has all been for your protection, will you decide to believe me this time?”
Her brows furrowed in anger. It was enough of an answer for both of them. “What, so you think you can do whatever you want as long as you say you’re protecting me? Lie to me, manipulate me—make me think I’m in real danger when I’m not.” She leaned forward, surprising herself as she jabbed him in the chest. “I’m not buying it. That type of protection is too messed up. It isn’t real.”
“I’ve done nothing but try to protect you from the minute I first saw you,” he growled. “And you’ve never made it easy. I’m not sorry that I haven’t managed to fit it into a neat box of your expectations.”
She glared back at him. “What, was I too heavy to pick up on put on your throppin horse?” she retorted. “Real sorry about that.”
Indecision warred behind his eyes for a few moments, then his gaze cleared, suddenly filled with intensity. Purpose.
“Not the horse,” he said finally. “Before that.”
“The hospital?” She rolled her eyes, letting sarcasm fill her voice. “I hate to break it to you, but nearly puking on you was half the embarrassment that day. Not a great move, protector.”
His shoulders tensed. “Before that.”
“There is no ‘before that,’” she snapped. “I’d never seen you before that day.”
“I didn’t say you had.”
Something in his tone made her freeze.
“What do you mean?”
“Before I explain that, you have to know—” a rare look of uncertainty flashed over his face, but he continued, “—I’m the leader of the Lawless, Sage.”
“No. You’re not. Your mom was—but you hate the Lawless,” she said loudly, not sure if she was trying to convince herself or him.
“Both my parents were. And I am as well.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I saw you—before the hospital, Sage. The day you lost your parents.”
“What?” she rasped. All the blood drained from her face.
“I was trying to get to you. To warn you. To—” he blew out a breath, “—to bring you here. My mother got a comm—she knew something had gone wrong with your parents’ mission, and… I was coming to bring you back here.”
“You…” Sage’s heart was pounding so loud in her ears, she was worried she wasn’t going to hear the rest of what he had to say.
“I was nearly to you, but I made a mistake. I don’t know if I stepped on a branch or ran into a bush or what in Eprah’s name I did, but you heard me coming, and you ran. I couldn’t catch up to you, and by the time you got to the city, you’d been spotted. It was too late.” His eyes had turned a stormy gray as he looked at her, capturing her in his tortured gaze. “You were never supposed to grow up at the Institution. You were supposed to grow up here. Safe. Protected. And it’s my fault you didn’t.”
“No.” It came out as barely a whisper as she looked at him in horror.
Weston pushed on. “Our parents knew each other. Fought together for change. My parents promised yours that if anything happened to them, they’d protect you.” He looked at her somberly. “That task has fallen to me now. I’ve maintained my distance, but I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a long time.” His face twisted in pain.
She stared at him, unable to say anything. Her body was shaking violently, but she didn’t even realize it until he pulled a blanket off the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“You asked me before what I was doing in the alley the night you were attacked,” he said, truth tumbling out as a cascading confession. “I have certain Rogue contacts. I knew about your plan to leave Eprah—and I knew you were going to be stood up.” Anger burned in his eyes. “I didn’t know the officer was there. And I don’t know if I could’ve forgiven myself if I’d gotten to you any later.” He turned to her, face full of regret. “I was already too late getting to you once before, and my mistake put you at Eprah’s mercy for years. After I got to you in the alley, I swore it wouldn’t happen again.”
Her eyes were glazed over as she looked at him. “So you took me.”
“So I took you.” He nodded. “It was the only way I could be sure of keeping you safe.”
“That seems to have worked really well,” she mumbled sarcastically.
“It was either that or let every officer at the Peace tear you apart,” he said evenly, completely unapologetic.
“So this whole time… You’ve been lying to me.”
His lips twitched. “I’ve been protecting you.”
“That’s just a fancy way of saying you lied.” She pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
“You want me to tell you I lied? Fine. I lied. I lied over and over again just to protect you. But you’ve lied to me since we met.”
“About what?” she snapped, her teeth chattering.
“About everything,” he shot back with equal fervor. “Lies come out of your mouth more smoothly than the truth. And for that, I blame myself too.”
“You could’ve told me the truth.”
“And would you have believed me?”
She didn’t answer, and his jaw twitched.
“I’ve done everything I could to convince you that you could trust me, but you never did. And I couldn’t trust you. If I wanted to be able to allow you any freedoms, I couldn’t tell you my secrets—not when I couldn’t predict what you would do with them. And telling you the truth put you in more danger. Not knowing secrets in the first place—that’s one of the best ways to stay safe. I believe Mr. Walsh knew that when he chose to withhold certain information from you.”
A measure of pain stabbed at her heart at the mention of her old mentor. She was surprised to hear Weston speak of him with any familiarity, but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised—not after everything he’d told her tonight.
“So—what—you’re offering me the chance to be Lawless again?”
He pursed his lips, nodding tightly.
“What if I don’t want to be Lawless?”
“It is, of course, your decision. But you have to make a choice and give me an answer, knowing that a lie could kill not only me but every Lawless in Eprah. You have to decide if you’re willing to bear the burdens of these secrets.”
Her breathing grew ragged as she weighed her options. Could she join an impossible fight with those who had betrayed her? Would he forsake his promise to keep her safe and kill her if she refused?<
br />
“You don’t have to decide tonight—I know it’s a lot to take in. I can’t force you to join a rebellion.” His shoulders heaved forward as he looked her straight in the eye. “But if you’re not Lawless, I can’t have you at my side anymore. I will have to say you’re dead.”
She swallowed, forcing herself to hold his gaze as she asked the question she dreaded having answered. “And will I be?”
“As far as Eprah’s concerned, you would be. It wouldn’t be like your time here before. You’d be hidden so deep in this estate that you’d never be found.” His jaw tightened. “I know you want freedom, Sage, but that is something I cannot offer if you make this choice.”
“You’re not offering it with either choice,” she said in a strained voice. “You’re offering a prettier cage full of danger.”
“I’m not denying it. But you’re mistaken if you think that the options I’ve given you are of my own choosing any more than yours.” Weston’s blue eyes filled with sorrow. “Even with all my power as a benefactor, I can’t offer you the one thing you want most.”
She clenched her fists. “And what exactly do you think that is?”
“Freedom—to truly live.”
***
The story continues in The Founders: Sacrisvita Book XIII.
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-Dylan
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THE FOUNDERS: Sacrisvita Book XIII - Excerpt
1. DISPOSABLE
“Remember, not a word. There are no second chances today.”
Sage nodded, eyes wide and mouth tightly shut as she walked closely behind Weston, carefully picking her way across the metal mesh, trying not to look through the grating at the people beneath them. She wasn’t about to push her luck. She still didn’t know what exactly had possessed him to drag her along on a trip into the city before she’d agreed to all his terms, but she knew better than to argue.