Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

SAGE

T onight, the shadows seem heavier.

With hurried footsteps that echo softly on the street, I've managed to slip out of the house without my mother noticing—a chore that's becoming alarmingly routine these days.

Wednesdays. Ten p.m. South Street by the cornfield. He'll have a flashlight in his left hand, not his right. And he only accepts smoked meats.

With Alina's words always at the top of my mind and the payment for my mom's medicine in my bag, I hurry toward the farms.

Peering over my shoulder, I catch nothing but the whisper of the wind rustling through the trees. I've been doing this for a couple of months now, and still, every noise, every shadow, has me panicking. Skulking through the night never gets easier.

Even dressed in my black cotton pants and shirt, my hair tied up, I feel exposed.

Up ahead, the cornfield looms near, its stalks swaying in the breeze while the moonlight gives the field a ghostly hue. I navigate quickly to South Street, passing darkened homes with no lights, every rustle of leaves, every owl hoot leaving me jumpy.

Finally, I spot him.

Jason, one of our Village Protectors, is standing at our previous meeting location, cloaked in darkness, his face hidden beneath a hooded cape. Despite the couple of times we've met like this already, the sight of him concealed and waiting still sends a shiver down my spine.

Breathing faster now, I move toward him, my eyes fixed on the flashlight he holds in his left hand.

"Evening," I say softly as I approach. "Do you have my medicine?"

"Like always," he groans, glancing around almost nervously. Has he spotted someone nearby? His reaction has me instantly on higher alert than earlier, ears listening for any sounds. "Let's do this quickly. I have somewhere to be."

I nod, grabbing the paper-wrapped package of smoked meat out of my bag.

He shoves a hand into his cloak's pocket and produces a small parcel swathed in white fabric, then pushes it into my hand, already reaching for the smoked meat.

Except, his parcel feels smaller, lighter than the last order.

"Wait, this is less for the same payment." I raise my voice slightly, but he shrugs, snatching the meat. But I tighten my grip, refusing to let go.

"Then no exchange," he growls.

"Why is it less?" I demand, needing to ensure we don't run out of medicine. The last batch lasted barely a week, and meat isn't cheap. And by the weight of tonight's medicine, it may last a couple of days if we're lucky. Plus, I've had to pick and sort through several buckets of berries to pay for this bag.

He's silent, his grip on the meat tightening. I squeeze mine as well, unwilling to let this slide when it's about my mother's health.

"You can't just give me less. When will you deliver the rest?"

"It's all I have," he groans.

I narrow my eyes. "I'll have to reduce the payment, then." The fire inside me flares up. I'm not backing down, not now.

He hesitates, and for a moment, I think he might relent. But then he yanks the parcel harder, and I stumble forward, my grip loosening just enough for him to pull it free.

"Hey!" I shout, but he's already retreating into the shadows, vanishing fast, leaving me with half the amount of medicine I need and anger that burns hotter.

"Jason, you owe me!"

Grinding my teeth, my pulse races, my chest rising and falling faster.

Placing the medicine into my bag, I retreat, anger and fear mingling through me.

His betrayal stings, and the worry for my mother gnaws at me. Tomorrow, I'll find him in the village, and I'll make him give me the rest.

Twisting around, I push in the opposite direction to Jason, picking up my speed as every shadow feels like a potential threat. With the moon sliding in behind thick clouds, darkness spreads over the land. Eeriness runs up the back of my legs as I run. My footsteps echo on the dirty path, crunching against the tiny rocks.

I can't bear to think of getting caught. Of being punished for having illegal medicine brought into the village. The last things I need are additional entries put into the Chalice for breaking the rules, increasing the chances of me getting chosen as Monster's Bride at the next Choosing Ceremony.

That's when snapping twigs pierce the silence behind me.

Fear skates down my back, and I sprint faster, not daring to even look back. My breaths come in quick, panicked bursts. Careening around the mess hall, something dark and fast whisks out in front of me, moving as swiftly as the wind. Something… something huge.

I gasp for air, my chest squeezing as terror swallows me. Stumbling backward, I stifle a scream.

Then it's gone.

I run quicker now in the opposite direction, finding myself in a garden, having no idea where I am. Checking over my shoulder, I don't look where I'm going, and my foot catches on something.

Tripping forward, I barely catch myself, noticing I'm trampling over vegetables.

Another sound, closer this time, something like the rush of air.

What's going on?

I whip around, recoiling until my back hits a tree. A small wincing sound drips from my lips, my gaze searching the darkness frantically.

Was it a bat? Large owl? They swoop down on small animals at night, and Gods know, we have our fair share of rats in this village.

Around me, shadows seem to move, and the darkness feels alive, pressing in on me.

My breaths come too fast, fear strangling my lungs.

Then, I notice someone standing across the garden, someone who wasn't there seconds earlier, holding on to a lantern by his side.

A shudder sinks through me down to my soul.

"Who goes there?" I hiss, my fingers digging into the tree behind me as though I need its strength to remain upright. I blink, clearing my vision, thinking it's the Protector. Is he making me pay for standing up to him? For challenging him?

The figure almost glides forward, making a soft humming sound that sings on the breeze. He's raising his blinking lantern to reveal his face.

It's the Viscount.

Bile rises to my throat, and I'm going to be sick. Fates, this is so much worse.

Did he witness my exchange with Jason?

My legs aren't working anymore.

His eyes are on me, vibrant blue with hints of gold, like the sky at twilight, unnaturally bright. He saunters closer, still making that unnerving humming sound.

Shaking, I can't bring myself to move, feeling more prey than girl.

He won't hurt me, right? He's the new Viscount of our village, our guardian. I almost snort a laugh. Right… as much as the last one was protective of us.

Tonight, the Viscount wears a charcoal-colored warrior's shirt that embraces his broad chest and shoulders, bronze buttons running down the front fashioned into emblems I don't recognize. A matching metal band encircles his thick forearm over the sleeve, and a belt cinches his waist, revealing muscles straining against the fabric. Black trousers hug strong, long legs and end at sturdy boots. One could easily mistake him for a warrior rather than a Viscount.

He appears much younger than when I first saw him upon his arrival. His square jawline, sharply chiseled cheekbones, and parting lips are hypnotic. I catch myself staring at his mouth, and my cheeks heat up when he notices.

His long, dark hair tumbles messily around his striking face, stirred by the breeze and cascading over his shoulders. I've never been this close to him before, and he's not what I expected. There's a wicked sensation curling through me in his presence, one I don't fully understand but that burns deeply—a dangerous feeling that I know could lead to trouble.

The blade at his side glints under the moonlight, heightening my anxiety.

"Are you going to punish me?" I manage to ask, my mouth dry and palms sweating. Is this how it feels to speak not only to a Viscount but also to one armed with a weapon?

He stops just a pace away, his intense gaze never leaving mine. The silence between us is thick, making it hard for me to keep my breathing steady.

"Why are you out at this hour, Sage?" he asks, his voice low, eyes darkening.

I swallow hard, trying to mask how much I'm trembling, but he knows my name. Why does he know my name?

"I was… collecting herbs for my mother," I answer, striving to conceal my nerves. If he believes me, maybe he'll let me return home.

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. When the breeze wafts through again, it carries his scent, overwhelming my senses and nearly buckling my knees. He smells like the deep forest, mingled with the embers of a fire and the sweetness of freshly cooked caramel.

"You know you're not permitted to be out at such a late hour on your own," he says in a low, commanding voice. "It's dangerous for a girl like you…"

"I-I'm sorry. I was thinking… I needed to get some… some herbs." I glance around the garden, pretending to search for them.

"You're not in trouble, Sage, but I should get you home," he confirms, his mouth quirking up at the corners. He reaches out, his hand grasping the back of my arm firmly yet gently, enough to pull me away from the tree.

His touch sends a sharp jolt through me, reminding me of the accidental burn from a flame. I wince, shuddering as the sensation, rather than stinging, turns strangely comforting. Confused, I look up at him; his eyes are wide, and a smile is beginning to form.

His gaze remains fixed on me. My heart pounds, urging me to lower my eyes, but the view of his chest right in front of my face isn't any less disconcerting than the fiery sensation spreading between my thighs.

"It's you," he whispers, his words cryptic yet causing something deep within me to stir—a pulse that starts in my stomach and radiates lower.

Then, his grip tightens, and suddenly, we're moving quickly across the garden.

"Viscount," I utter, alarmed by the abrupt intensity of the sensation in my stomach.

"Call me Killian," he insists. "I've been searching for you, Sage."

"You have?" I ask as I fail at easily matching his brisk pace, looking up at this daunting Viscount who confuses me.

The rest of our walk is shrouded in silence, his hand firmly around my arm, the reality that he's been searching for me echoing in my mind.

Relief washes over me when we reach my front door, allowing me to feel a level of safety. I turn to face him, my back against the door, and he steps closer, his warm breath brushing my cheek as he leans in.

"I have been in search of an Offering," he whispers.

"Wait, what?" I blink, pressing my spine against the door, my hand frantically reaching for the door handle. I'm breathless, heart slamming into my rib cage. "I'm sorry for being outside late into the night, but I'm not interested," I plead, finally pulling my arm free from his grasp.

There's no surprise on his face, only a thin smile. "Head inside, Sage, and say your farewells to your mother. We leave tonight."

"What?" I gasp. "No, I-I can't…" I feel the medicine in my pocket, knowing it will only last a few days at most. Then what? "My mom's sick. I can't leave. Please…"

He tilts his head to the side, studying me, and there's that unusual glint in his eyes.

"This isn't negotiable, Sage. You are needed."

"But my mother…" I start, desperation clawing at my throat.

"She will be cared for," he says, his voice softer. "I give you my word. I will return in a few days to ensure her safety."

His words mean nothing to me, and it's not as if I can tell the Viscount I'm buying medicine snuck into the village to guarantee he ensures she has a constant supply.

He studies me in silence, and my head hurts with how much everything spins. With how the truth that he's not going to let this go settles into me like I'm carrying a mountain on my shoulders.

"And me? I'm not returning to Nightingale Village?" I murmur, a tremble starting deep in my chest and spreading through me.

There's softness sweeping across his face, but there's something else there, too. Danger . When he doesn't respond, I have my answer.

I'm being dropped off with monsters.

Tears well up in my eyes, my throat thickening.

"Quickly now, go inside. We have little time."

I blink at him, hands trembling. "But?—"

"You have been chosen." He's grinning again, while I'm feeling nauseous.

Pressing down on the door handle, I hurry inside, my heart shattering at the thought of leaving my mother behind.

The Viscount follows and pauses in the doorway, filling the space and watching me. I want to run, to escape, but where will I go? Leaving the village is impossible, and I have no one in the settlement who will hide me.

The warmth of the cottage feels bitter. I move to my mother's side on the couch, watching her fragile chest rise and fall with each breath. Tears roll down my cheeks while my thoughts still haven't caught up. I've heard stories of the previous Viscount taking other Offerings in the dead of the night, of them vanishing.

I choke on a breath, hugging my middle. Is that my fate?

"Love you so much, Mom," I whisper, covering her with a blanket. "I'm going to find a way to come back."

The words feel hollow, but I need to believe them. I wipe away the tears, not wanting to wake her, worried about what the Viscount might do. Instead, I hurry into the kitchen and sneakily get a pen and paper, scribbling on it in the dark.

M om,

Please don't be upset with me.

Tonight, I went out to collect your medicine, but the new Viscount found me. Now, he insists I've been selected as an Offering, and we must leave this very night. He says he'll return to the village and help you, but I don't trust him.

I promise that I will come back somehow.

Just remember, when you run out of your medicine, visit Jason Pines; he will sell you more for smoked meat. He'll be on South Street by the cornfield every Wednesday at 10 p.m.

I'm sorry I didn't wake you before I left, but I don't want the Viscount to put you in danger. It's better he doesn't know I told you.

I love you to eternity and back, Mom.

Sage

I place the note with the medicine on the kitchen counter when the floor creaks behind me.

Ice forms in my veins, and I freeze.

"Ensure you add in your note that your mother is not to speak with anyone about our departure." There's finality and firmness in his voice, a strong warning.

So, with shaky hands, I add a line at the bottom of the note.

His footsteps retreat, and I move into the living room, shaken.

It's dark, and the Viscount's in the hallway now, studying me. I can't see his features, yet somehow his eyes still glow.

"Are you ready?" he asks in a deep voice that leaves me trembling.

"No," I answer truthfully, but I step forward reluctantly, knowing he has the final say in our village. Opposing him would bring far worse consequences to me and my mother.

Luckily, Mom has one friend, her neighbor, who sometimes aids her. She's a woman who hasn't been able to bear children. Many in the village look down on her for it, and I guess she and my mom bonded over that.

The Viscount walks out of my house.

I take one last look at my mom, her mousy-blonde hair draped across her forehead, her eyelids twitching, clear she's in deep sleep. Tears well in my eyes, and my chin trembles, unsure how to say farewell. I'm terrified I won't find my way back, scared for my mom's health.

I drag myself outside, wondering if this is how all the Offerings from previous ceremonies felt as they walked out of their homes.

Each step away from my home feels heavier, the weight of my promise to my mother pressing down on me. I try to stay strong for her sake, but fear and uncertainty gnaw at my resolve.