Page 126 of Sage Haven
“What can you tell me then, kidnapper?”
I kept my voice steady, though it was tinged with something closer to desperation than I wanted to admit.
Castor sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face, dragging it down like the weight of this entire conversation was grinding him down. He paced the room, boots heavy against the wood floor, each step deliberate but aimless—like he needed to move but didn’t know where to go.
I watched him. I noticed the way his shoulders slumped a little, the way he hesitated at every turn. I could see why Sam was drawn to him. He was magnetic in a wounded way—the kind of person who felt everything deeply but wore it like a joke so no one ever noticed.
Finally, he stopped in front of the small table by the window and leaned his hands on the surface. His gaze met mine, and for a split second, I saw it.
Hesitation.
And maybe something close to guilt.
“I can tell you” He said quietly, “that you need to answer my brother’s questions. Sooner rather than later.”
His tone was soft but urgent, the kind of warning you didn’t want to ignore.
I stilled. “Why?”
The word was sharp. A challenge.
Castor’s expression didn’t change. “Because once you do, we can explain everything. We can keep you safe.”
The word hit me wrong.
Safe.
I almost laughed.
Instead, I took a slow step forward, arms crossed tight over my ribs. “Safe?” I echoed, disbelief coloring my voice. “Safe from who?”
His fingers flexed against the table. I could tell he was holding back—something dangerous or something painful.
“I can’t tell you that,” he said.
It was always the same wall.
The same silence.
Frustration surged through me, coiling tight in my chest.
“Well… it didn’t work because I don’t feel safe here,” I snapped, the words tearing out of me sharper than I intended.
But I didn’t take them back.
Castor’s head lifted sharply. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment—just a moment—something raw flickered behind them. Not anger.
Something closer to regret.
“You are, Sage.”
And for the first time since we met, there was no hesitation in his voice, “You’re safer here than anywhere else.”
I wanted to believe him.
But belief was dangerous.
And trust was dangerous.
