Chapter 31

An Anchor I Needed.

Sage

“It’s more complicated than just staying,” I murmured, voice low, like the shadows might overhear. “Just saying I want to. You don’t understand the lengths Yakoly will go to if he finds out I’m here. With you. Alive. He’ll have every hitman, every ghost, every contract killer in his arsenal thrown your way. Just to get to you. Just to drag me back and make an example of you in the process.”

Conner stilled.

“I’m not exaggerating,” I added, throat tight. “You haven’t seen what he does to the people I care about. He finds them, rips them apart, makes sure I watch. And then he keeps them. Broken, bleeding, as leverage. Just to remind me I don’t get to have anything. Anyone.”

I swallowed, fingers trembling. I hated this part of the truth. The part that felt like weakness.

“That’s why I left. Every time I felt myself getting attached. Every time I wanted to stay, to try. I ran. Because people like me, we don’t get to have homes, or people, or soft mornings and button-down shirts that smell like safety. We get blood, and warnings, and a long fucking list of names we couldn’t save.”