Chapter 21 Confronting Sage (Rowan POV)
The cell door clanged open at 3:12 p.m. I was sitting on the cot, knees drawn up, tracing the silver marks on my forearm with one fingertip, they’d grown warmer since the second murder, almost feverish under the skin. Sage slipped inside before Jackson could finish his usual warning. She carried a small paper bag clutched against her chest like contraband.
“Hey,” she said. Her voice sounded too bright, too brittle.
I didn’t stand. “Hey.”
She glanced back at the door as it shut, then hurried over and sat beside me on the cot. The mattress dipped. She smelled like cedar and anxiety, her pack scent stronger than usual, edged with something sharp and nervous.
“I only have ten minutes,” she whispered. “They’re watching everyone who comes in here now.”
I nodded once. “I know.”
She reached into the bag, pulled out the familiar orange plastic bottle. Blue capsules rattled inside when she shook it. “These are from the health center. New formulation. They’re supposed to help stabilize the Turning. No more blackouts. No more… losing control.”
I stared at the bottle. Then at her face.
“You brought me pills,” I said slowly. “Again.”
Sage’s smile faltered. “They’re different this time. I checked. I swear.”
“Did you?” I tilted my head. “Because last time you brought me something to drink, I lost eight hours and woke up accused of murder.”
Her face crumpled, just for a second, before she forced it back into place. “That was a mistake. I didn’t know...”
“You didn’t know what?” I cut in. My voice stayed quiet. Too quiet. “That it would drug me? That it would start the Turning? Or that it would make me the perfect scapegoat?”
Sage flinched. “Rowan...”
I reached out, took the bottle from her hand. Turned it over. Read the label. Same fake health-center stamp. Same blue capsules. Same tiny “47” etched into each one.
I set it on the cot between us. “I’m not taking these.”
Her eyes widened. “You have to. The full moon’s tomorrow night. If the Turning doesn’t finish properly...”
“I said no.” I pushed the bottle toward her. “I flushed the last batch. I’m not swallowing anything I can’t verify. Not from the health center. Not from you.”
Sage’s hands shook. She grabbed the bottle, clutched it to her chest. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Are you?”
“Yes!” The word burst out, too loud. She clapped a hand over her mouth, glanced at the door, then dropped her voice again. “I’ve been trying since the party. I thought... I thought if I could just get you through this, make it less scary...”
“Less scary?” I laughed once, short, hollow. “I bent steel bars in my sleep. I woke up covered in someone else’s blood. And now there’s a second body, and everyone thinks I grew an accomplice overnight. You think pills from a mystery bottle are going to fix that?”
Sage’s eyes filled. “I don’t know what else to do.”
I studied her. Really looked. The way her shoulders hunched. The way her fingers trembled around the plastic. The way she wouldn’t quite meet my gaze.
“Who gave you these?” I asked softly.
She froze.
“Sage.” I leaned closer. “Who?”
She swallowed. Looked at the floor. “A researcher. He’s… studying pack bonds. How they form. How they break. He’s been around campus for a couple months. Quiet. Private.”
“A name,” I pressed.
“Dr. Cross.” The words came out small. “Julian Cross.”
My pulse stuttered.
Julian.
Cross.
I kept my voice steady. “Describe him.”
Sage hesitated. “Tall. Dark hair. Wears these plain hoodies, like he’s trying not to stand out.”
The description landed like a stone in my stomach.
Dark hair. Sharp features. Intense eyes.
I’d seen that face.
Not awake.
In flashes. In the white-room memory. In the corner of my vision while the woman sang. A boy, older, watching from the doorway while they strapped me down. Same dark hair. Same watchful stare.
I closed my eyes for half a second. Opened them again.
“You’ve met him,” I said. Not a question.
Sage nodded once. “He approached me after the party. Said he’d been studying how humans and wolves interact here. Said he could help you through the Turning. Said the health center didn’t understand what you needed.”
“And you believed him.”
“I wanted to help you!” Her voice cracked. Tears spilled over. “You were so scared. So angry. And I... I gave you that first drink. I thought it would just loosen you up. I didn’t know it would do… this. When he showed up with more, when he said these would fix it...”
I reached out, took her hands. They were ice-cold.
“Sage,” I said gently. “Look at me.”
She did. Eyes red, mascara streaking.
“I need you to listen,” I said. “Very carefully. I don’t think Dr. Cross is who he says he is. I think he’s dangerous. And I think he’s using you to get to me.”
She shook her head, fast, frantic. “No. He’s been kind. He listens. He...”
“He gave you drugs to give me,” I interrupted. “Twice now. And both times, things got worse. I blacked out after the first one. I’m being framed for murder after the second batch showed up. That’s not help. That’s control.”
Sage pulled her hands away. Stood up. Paced two steps toward the door, then back.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I just wanted to fix it. I just wanted you to be okay.”
I stood too. Slowly. “Then help me now.”
She looked at me, desperate, lost.
“Tell me everything,” I said. “Every time you met him. Every conversation. Every place. I need to know who he really is.”
Sage hugged herself. “He said he’s private. That he can’t come on campus openly. That’s why we meet off-site. The boathouse. The old chapel. Places no one goes.”
Red flag. Huge red flag.
“And he never gave you a last name?” I asked. “Never showed you ID? Never mentioned a university?”
She shook her head. Tears kept falling. “I should’ve asked. I should’ve...”
“You didn’t know,” I said. “But you know now.”
She wiped her face with her sleeve. “What do I do?”
“Stop giving me anything,” I told her. “Stop meeting him. And if he contacts you again, tell me. Right away. Don’t try to handle it alone.”
Sage nodded, small, shaky. “Okay.”
I stepped closer. “And Sage?”
She looked up.
“I still trust you,” I said quietly. “Even after everything. But I need you to trust me now. Okay?”
Fresh tears welled. She nodded again, harder this time.
“Okay.”