SAGE
Everything is working.
The lie left my mind more than it left my mouth. Even through the mate bond, it felt thin—a statement that could have crumbled if Adam had pushed too hard, if he had sensed the truth beneath it.
Because nothing was working.
Not my body. Not my strength. Not time. Not fate.
What was working was my death.
It was unfolding slowly, methodically, like a ritual the universe was determined to complete.
I scoffed at myself, or at least I tried to. The sound never made it past my throat; it dissolved before it could become breath. My chest barely rose. My lungs felt like they were breathing through water.
I could not feel myself.
Not my arms. Not my legs. Not even the weight of my own body against the cold floor. Everything existed at a distance, muted and fading, as though I was already halfway into the realm of spirits.
