"So how does it work on other supernaturals? Like us?" he asks, voice dipping low. "Isthatthe reason I haven't snapped your neck yet?"
I narrow my eyes at him, meeting the challenge in his tone. "I don't know. That's a mystery," I answer, cool and pointed, before adding more seriously, "The effect depends. Some supernaturals are more sensitive to it. Usually, the older they are, the less it works. And it's not like vampire influence—it doesn't control anyone. It's more like… a nudge. A predisposition. It makespeople notice me. Like me. But only if the rest of me doesn't give them a reason not to."
"So no," I add, my voice sharp, "it'snotthe reason you haven't snapped my neck yet."
That earns me another slow grin. This one's darker.
"That's why you're the bait," Asher says, slipping his phone into his pocket. "You attract attention, but you don't flinch from vampires like other nymphs do."
I nod, confirming his read, though I don't offer anything else. But then he keeps going.
"These people you were with, they taught you everything. How to spot, how to survive. They trained you," he says, watching me closely. "You weren't coerced, were you? You worked with them. Willingly."
I tense, my spine straightening, but I don't respond.
Asher lets out a soft breath. "I'm not accusing you. I want to understand. Something made you run, and I doubt it was a sudden attack of conscience. And I don't believe for a second that they're chasing you down just because they need you back as a decoy."
He steps closer, arms crossed, not in a threatening way, but firm and commanding.
"You're running," he says quietly, "but you don't have a destination. No endgame. That's not a strategy. Not if the people chasing you are serious. They'll catch up eventually."
"I know," I murmur, lowering my gaze.
"If you tell us more, we can help," Asher says. "That offer hasn't changed. And there's someone in town who might be useful—a friend of ours. Collector of oddities, old grimoires, bestiaries, rare books from all over the world. He might have something on satyrs. If Darius is as powerful as you say, you'll need more than instincts to keep him off your trail."
I hesitate, thinking it through. Darius… if there's even a sliver of knowledge that could shield me from him and his powers, I should at least look.
"I could push the ticket," I say slowly. "Check out the books."
"Finally," Kayden grunts, settling back into an armchair with a refill. "Getting you to accept help is like pulling teeth."
I shoot him a look. He grins.
"Good. Then let's start there," Asher says with a nod. "But you still haven't answered the question." He holds my gaze, steady and unflinching. "Why are you running, Sage?"
I inhale slowly and take another sip of the drink. The warmth steadies me. I owe them something. Not everything, but at least a sliver of the truth.
"I won't get into the details of how I became a nymph," I begin, voice level. "Let's just say… I woke up in a forest feeling different. Nature itself made the call, so there was no 'maker,' no mystical mentor to greet me. No instruction manual, either. Just the overwhelming certainty that something had been accepted—some kind of deal—and I wasn't human anymore."
I pause, eyes on the amber liquid in my glass.
"I tried to go back," I admit. "To slide back into my old life with other humans. Pretend I was just a little weird, a little wild. But it didn't fit no matter how hard I tried. So I gave up. Packed what little I had and started wandering."
The glass empties. Kayden, without a word, refills it for me. I offer him a nod of thanks, but I don't stop talking.
"I was in California when it happened. A group of vampires jumped me. I didn't even know they existed. One minute I was walking through Golden Gate Park, next thing I knew, I was bleeding out on the grass. If Darlene hadn't found me, I would've died."
A frown tugs at my mouth at the memory of sharp teeth and harsh hands.
"She's a dryad—a wood nymph. Older and stronger. And also Darius's right hand. She was tracking the same group, saw what was happening and killed them to save me."
Kayden tilts his head. "Dark hair, looked like she wanted to murder me with her eyes the entire time?"
I nod. "Yeah. That's Darlene Sharma. She brought me to Darius after that. They told me what I was, what I could do. At first, I thought it was all some elaborate cult or fever dream brought on by blood loss. So I ran."
Kayden smirks. "Your signature move."
Asher shoots him a sharp look. "Continue," he says, voice calm.
