Page 172 of May: Bloom & Bane

—EDEN

Istare into Sage’s eyes through a blur of hot tears.

“He’s still here,” he whispers, but his voice shakes. “He’s just… hiding.”

“Hiding?” I choke out. “From me?”

His jaw tightens.

“No, Eden. From himself. He made you cry—he felt your fear. And he can’t forgive himself for that.”

“No!” I yell so loudly Sage recoils. “I was never afraid of him.”

“Eden…” His hands cup my face, thumbs wiping away the tears running down my cheeks. “He sensed your sobs through the tendril left around your ankle.”

“But I need him,” I sob. Half of my chest feels empty. “Tell him, Sage. You share the same mind—the same heart. Tell him that I was never afraid of him, please.”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ve tried, Saevúra,” he admits. “I don’t know how to reach him. I think he just needs time.”

Dread washes over me. If Sage can’t reach him… how am I supposed to bring him back?

My hand slides down to rest over my stomach, where a tiny, innocent soul is now growing.

Ashán helped make her. His soul is woven into hers just as much as Sage’s. And now he’s gone.

“Sage,” I whisper. “I don’t want to do this without him. She needs him. I need him.”

“Oh—oh no, Eden. He’ll come back.” Sage scoops me off the floor and into his lap. “He loves you too much to stay away. I swear, Saevúra. He just needs to breathe.”

The kitchen is quiet except for the soft creak of cabinets. Sage insisted that I eat something, though food is the last thing on my mind. I sit at the island, my hands wrapped around a cup of herbal tea I have no intention of drinking. He’s been staring at an unopened box of Saltine crackers for at least two minutes.

“Sage?”

He clears his throat as the cabinet clicks shut on its own. A plate with sliced fruit and a small cup of broth appears in front of me.

“Thank you, Nook,” he whispers under his breath.

A warm creak ripples through the floorboards in response.

“Damien is still on the porch,” he says quietly.

“Why don’t you tell him to come inside?”

“Nook made enough for an army anyway.” I point to the two plates popping up on either side of the island.

He studies my face.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you with company right now.”

“He won’t overwhelm me, Sage. He needs comfort just as much as we do. Please... invite him in.”

“Okay, ílyara.”

When Damien steps into the kitchen, his shoulders are rigid, and his pale eyes sweep the room, checking for threats before they finally land on me.

“You didn’t have to invite me in, Eden,” he says, staying near the edge of the kitchen. His nostrils flare once, and his eyes drop to my stomach before snapping away.