CHAPTER 339: DEALS

SAGE

"What the hell are you doing with a vampire?"

Darius’ voice, when I ignored his question, was like the crack of a whip, cutting through the night’s quiet. His eyes burned then with something sharp—rage, maybe, or disbelief. Either way, it was intense enough to make the air between us hum.

I didn’t flinch. I just shrugged, keeping my usual mask of nonchalance firmly in place. "Didn’t realize I had to explain my strolls to you," I said evenly. "Mind your business."

But Darius didn’t move. His expression didn’t soften either. If anything, the tension in his shoulders deepened. He took a step closer, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, shadows bending subtly toward him as if responding to his anger.

"I asked you a question," he said, his voice low, controlled. Too controlled.

"And I ignored it," I replied, tilting my head. "Take the hint."

That only seemed to fuel him. He reached out again, his hand shooting for my wrist, but before his fingers could touch me, I summoned a thin sheet of energy—my barrier. It crackled between us, faintly blue, humming with restrained power.

"Don’t," I warned, my tone deceptively calm.

He didn’t even hesitate. He simply stepped through it.

My eyes widened a fraction before I caught myself. No one had ever walked through one of my barriers before—not without being fried to a crisp. The magic buzzed faintly against him but didn’t burn, didn’t resist. He just moved through it like mist.

He stood inches from me now, his expression unreadable, that same dark aura curling around him like smoke.

"What are you?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. "A witch?"

His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking. "I’m not a witch," he hissed, venom dripping from the word as if it were a curse.

I blinked, surprised. "Then what are you?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he folded his arms, his gaze sharp and assessing. "What were you doing with that vampire?"

I rolled my eyes. "You’re obsessed with that question."

"Because it matters," he snapped. "And so do you. Who are you really, Sage? What are you doing in this contest? What do you want from the fight?"

His words struck a nerve—not because I didn’t have an answer, but because I did. I just wasn’t giving it to him. Not yet.

So I ignored him, repeating calmly, "You didn’t answer my question. What are you?"

A tense silence stretched between us, thick enough to choke on. We stared at each other, two storms locked in a still moment. His gaze was steady, searching; mine, unyielding, curious.

Finally, he exhaled softly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Fine," he said. "I’ll tell you what I am—if you win tomorrow."

My brows arched. "And if you win?"

"Then you’ll answer mine."

He extended his hand, palm open between us. The gesture was casual, but there was a weight to it. A deal. A challenge. A promise.

I looked at his hand, then at him. The composure in his face, the quiet confidence—it was almost irritating. And yet... it drew me in. He wasn’t like the others, the braggarts and fools who strutted around pretending strength. His was quiet. Heavy. Real.

My eyes flicked to his lips—firm, steady, too calm for someone who’d just threatened me—and the thought crossed my mind before I could stop it. I wondered how that mouth would taste.

I smiled faintly, more to myself than to him, and placed my hand in his. "Deal."

His skin was warm against mine, a contrast to the chill of the night. The contact sent a small jolt of energy up my arm—magic or tension, I couldn’t tell which.

"Looking forward to it," I said, my tone laced with amusement. I fluttered my lashes just enough to be obvious.

Darius scoffed, withdrawing his hand almost instantly. "Don’t bother," he muttered, already turning away.

"Excuse me?"

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes gleaming faintly under the moonlight. "You’re not my lifemate," he said simply. Then he disappeared into the shadows of the forest, leaving the words hanging behind him like smoke.

I stood there for a long moment, the silence swallowing his presence.

"Lifemate," I murmured, rolling the word on my tongue. It sounded familiar, but from where, I couldn’t recall. I’d heard it once—long ago, maybe during one of those trips of mine, as Dora, to the forbidden archives.

The word stirred something in me, an echo of recognition that slipped away before I could grasp it.

I exhaled sharply, shaking the thought from my head. "He’s insufferable," I muttered, brushing dust off my sleeves.

When I finally stepped out of the forest, the night had deepened. The path was empty—Darius nowhere to be seen. Figures. He moved faster than I gave him credit for.

Part of me was relieved he hadn’t seen the vampire feeding earlier. That would’ve been one more thing for his moral code—or whatever it was—to gnaw on. I didn’t need him playing hero where he wasn’t invited.

The air outside the trees felt colder, cleaner. As I walked through the quiet streets leading toward the main pack kingdom, I found my thoughts drifting—to the match tomorrow, to the strange calm that had followed the last dinner, to Raul’s absence.

Days had passed since I’d banned him from visiting me, though his scent still lingered faintly in the corners of my room. I missed him more than I’d admit, but distraction wasn’t a luxury I could afford now. Not with Darius seemingly watching. Not with the queen’s silence stretching like a loaded bowstring.

Still, as I neared my quarters, an unexpected ache tugged at me. A need—not for Raul, not for the fight, but for something simpler. My family.

Before the thought could dissolve, I was already moving faster. By the time I reached the kingdom’s inner areas, I was almost running. The guards barely spared me a glance—most of them had learned not to meet my eyes for too long.

When I entered my quarters, the silence greeted me first. Isla was still asleep, curled up on the long sofa, her hair fanning out like dark silk. A faint smile tugged at my lips. She’d trained hard today; she deserved the rest.

I traced a protective sigil in the air, murmuring softly. A thin shimmer spread across the room, sealing it in a gentle ward. No one would enter without my knowledge now.

Satisfied, I turned toward the window.

A single leap carried me to the fence beyond my yard. With a flick of my wrist, I summoned an illusion—a faint mirage of myself standing still, in case anyone came snooping. Then I jumped over, landing soundlessly on the other side.

The cool air brushed against my face as I whispered a quick invisibility charm. My form shimmered, then vanished.

I walked through the outskirts of the pack, past the last of the lamplights, until the world dimmed into shadows. Ahead lay the bland forest—a misnomer if there ever was one.

In there, I located the teleportation spot we usually utilized for transportation.

I took a deep breath, feeling the pulse of magic in the ground beneath me.

Then I closed my eyes. And the world folded.