Page 161 of May: Bloom & Bane

His pale eye meets mine through his long black hair.

“If another woman touches us, no matter the reason, the bond… it screams. Like we’re betraying her.” He starts running his fingers through his hair obsessively. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I know you’re just trying to help. But I physically cannot let you touch me. Only Winnie.”

“Winnie,” I repeat.

He nods. “My mate. My… everything.”

“It makes perfect sense,” I say. “You don’t have to say anything else. I can feel how much you love her, and I think it’s beautiful that you are so loyal to her.”

I grab the supplies and gently slide them across the floorboards until they stop just a few inches away from his good knee.

“I won’t press,” I murmur, moving to the opposite side of Sage. “But you can’t leave that shoulder open if you want to make it back to her.”

His eyes track the sliding bowl with hypervigilance before his posture subtly shifts again. He stares at the water for a long moment before reaching out a massive, trembling hand. He dips the cloth into the bowl, his knuckles white as he carefully presses the damp fabric against the gaping seam at his shoulder. He flinches, and a low grunt escapes him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the floor, away from me.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “And I am sorry for Jack. He is… very protective.”

“He’s protecting your bond with Winnie,” I reply, pulling my knees to my chest as I focus on Sage’s chest. “I can’t fault him for that.”

“My name is Damien,” he murmurs.

“Hello, Damien. I’m Eden.”

He continues cleaning his wound.

“Why did you do it?” I ask. “You’re in so much pain. You can barely keep your own pieces together, yet the second you heard me scream, you ran to help. You carried an eight-foot stranger into his home, even when it meant ripping apart your own body.”

The wet cloth hovers over his shoulder. He looks toward Sage, a wistful expression settling into his hollow eyes.

“Because I am too much of a coward to face my fears. I don’t know which way is home anymore, and my legs won’t carry me back to the only woman I’ve ever loved. But I could still carry yours back to you.”

Droot slips down from Sage’s chest without a sound, stopping beside Damien’s good knee. He settles against the outside of his leg and dims his glow to a soft amber.

Damien stares down at him for a long moment before a single massive finger lowers and strokes once down Droot’s back.

The Patchwork Bird carried Big Bird home, Droot chirps. The Patchwork Bird can stay.

CHAPTER 45

and yet, i do it anyway

—SAGE

The transition from my dreams into reality isn’t peaceful like I’d hoped; it’s a violent rip through fog that tastes like decay. My chest heaves as my eyes snap open, the living room ceiling no longer its usual vibrant canopy of greenery. Everything looks gray.

Beside me is the steady beat of Eden’s heart, her breath softly hitting my collarbone, fingers loosely gripping the leaves on my arm. The altheria is thrumming inside her with a liquid warmth that spreads through the bond.

An unfamiliar scent hits me: crisp apples, buttery caramel… and cold earth.

Every muscle in my body locks at once. I wait for Ashán to surge forward, but he’s silent in the back of my mind.

She must have used the dust again.

There is a stranger in my house, near my mate.

I carefully slide my arm out from under Eden. My wings flare outward to create a solid wall between her and the rest of the room.

Sitting on the couch across from the mattress, on my side of the bed, is a giant slumped awkwardly against the cushions with one leg stretched out at a horrific, twisted angle.