Sage’s voice was steady, but her eyes flickered with unease. “It’s risky.”
“I don’t care.”
“You could get lost. You could go catatonic. I could be stuck in there forever.”
“I don’t care.”
“I could find something dark and wicked lurking about… or nothing at all. This could be a waste of time.”
I leaned forward, every muscle in my body trembling with certainty. “Sage. I. Do. Not. Care. We will do this. I have to know what that bite did to me.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. “Alright. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Sage closed her eyes, drawing in a slow, grounding breath. The candles flickered, the air thickened. I felt her reach for me—not physically, but deeper, tugging at the threads of my mind. My chest tightened as though invisible hands were peeling me open.
