Chapter 53 Darkness
Sable’s POV
The betrayal of the mate bond thrummed.
Part of me wanted to hurt him—to make him bleed the way I was bleeding.
Part of me wanted to crawl into those same arms and make a home.
The contradiction made me dizzy.
I shook it off and turned down a narrower street—the kind with cracked pavement, loading docks, and the echo of your own footsteps for company. I should’ve called an Uber. I knew better. But I needed the punishment of walking. I needed the rhythm of heel to pavement, the time to breathe through the ache, to let anger burn itself down before I had to face the quiet of my apartment.
A door clanged somewhere behind me—metal on metal. I didn’t turn. City sounds. A truck settling into park. Maybe a dock worker locking up. I exhaled, slow and deliberate, counting the beats in my chest to keep from unraveling.
I reached the pocket where the street narrowed between a graffiti-stained warehouse and a brick building half-swallowed by shadow. The streetlamp above flickered, humming like it was struggling to stay alive. Light. Dark. Light again. My wolf didn’t like it. Her hackles rose inside me.
Move.
“I’m moving,” I muttered under my breath, speeding up. “Don’t start.”
She growled low, uneasy. I tried to ignore her, but even I could feel the air shift—cooler, tighter, watching. The sooner I reached the avenue, the sooner I could flag down a cab, go home, lock the door, and lie to myself about sleeping.
Then—footsteps.
Behind me. Soft. Too soft. Careful.
Every instinct in me bristled. “I don’t need this, not tonight.”
The footsteps kept pace.
I stopped.
They stopped—half a beat too late.
I turned, bracing myself for trouble, but the face I saw wasn’t a stranger. It was one I’d seen a hundred times under fluorescent office lights, holding coffee and small talk.
“Sam?” I blinked, half a laugh caught in my throat. “You scared me. What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Sabe.” He stood a few feet away, the flickering light catching on the edge of his glasses. His smile tried for casual but landed somewhere closer to strained. His hands hovered halfway up, palms open. “I saw you leave Ironclad,” he said quickly. “You looked upset. I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. My voice came out calm, even, practiced. “Really. Go home, Sam. It’s late.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “He hurt you,” he said simply, like it was fact, not a question. “You don’t have to hide from me, Sable. I know everything.”
My stomach tightened. Little memories I’d ignored suddenly rearranged themselves—his lingering glances, his too-long questions about Kier, the tone that always sounded like concern but cut like accusation. My wolf’s snarl rattled the inside of my chest.
Not pack. Not safe.
“Sam—”
“I’m the one who’s been here,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “When you were building your life again. When you were trying to be strong. When you needed someone who actually saw you.” His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. “You think he cares about you? He doesn’t. You’re a challenge to him. A prize.”
“Stop,” I said, my tone flattening. “You’re crossing a line.”
“I’m telling you the truth.” His words came faster now, desperate, heavy. "I’ve watched you pretend you’re fine every time his name comes up, your eyes—” He stopped, exhaled, tried again. “He don’t deserve you.”
“I said stop.”
He blinked, like the command physically hit him. “I’m just trying to help you.”
“I don’t need help,” I said firmly. “I just need space. I appreciate the concern, but this—” I gestured between us. “—isn’t okay. Go home, Sam.”
He shook his head. “Let me walk you.”
“No.”
“Just to the corner, Sabe. It’s dark. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I want to be alone.” My patience frayed. “You’re not hearing me.”
His eyes changed—something hollowed out of them, leaving flat glass behind. “He doesn’t love you, you know.”
“Sam.”
“He’ll destroy you,” he said, voice suddenly cold. “And I can’t just stand there and watch it happen.”
“I said go home.”
I turned to leave. A hand brushed my arm—light, quick.
I froze.
“Don’t,” I warned, spinning back. But before I could finish the word, there was a sharp sting at the side of my neck. A tiny click.
“Sam—what—”
The world tilted.
My wolf lunged, snarling, but her claws couldn’t find ground. Everything inside me went slippery, slow. The flickering lamp overhead blurred, each pulse of light stretching longer than the one before.
“Sam,” I whispered, but my tongue felt thick. “What did you—”
He caught me before I hit the ground, one arm tight around my waist. It would’ve looked like care to anyone watching, but it wasn’t. His touch was too gentle, too controlled. It made my stomach twist.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. His voice sounded like it was coming from under water. “I’ve got you. You’ll thank me when you can think clearly again.”
I tried to fight him, but my limbs were syrup. My body wouldn’t listen. My wolf howled inside my skull, but her voice dimmed with each heartbeat.
“Sam…”
He shushed me softly, brushing my hair from my face like we were lovers. “You don’t understand right now, but you will. He’s toxic, Sabe. You need distance. I’m helping you.”
“Helping?” The word slurred out, barely sound.
“You’ll see. Once the wolfsbane clears, once you’re safe from him, you’ll see.”
Wolfsbane.
The word scraped through my mind like a spark.
No. No, no—
I tried to push, to call my wolf, to grab at the bond, but everything inside me had gone muffled, distant. Kier. The thread between us flared—bright, panicked—but it was slipping.
I couldn’t hold on. The poison numbed everything, clawed at my mind until even my fear sounded far away.
I tried again, one last desperate reach. Kier.
Nothing answered. Just static.
The alley warped around me. The bricks bled into one another, colors melting. I could feel my body giving way—knees folding, vision narrowing to a pinpoint of light.
“Sam,” I whispered, but it came out wrong. Broken. “Please…”
“I told you,” he said softly, voice full of a terrible calm. “I’ve got you.”
He adjusted his grip, lifting me like I weighed nothing, cradling my head against his chest. My arms dangled uselessly. The scent of wolfsbane was thick between us—bitter and floral, like death dressed as kindness.
The last thing I felt before the dark took me was the press of Sam’s arm around my back and the cool kiss of night air against my cheek as he turned me toward the deeper shadows of the city.
Then everything folded.
And the world went out.
.