The Reaper's Runaway Princess

Chapter 1 The orange tabby hissed weakly as Sage Bennett carefully wrapped another layer of gauze around its tiny leg. “I know,” she murmured softly. “You hate me. I’d hate myself too if I smelled like antiseptic and bitter drugs.” The cat glared at her from the stainless-steel exam table. Sage smiled despite herself. “You’re dramatic for someone who almost died in a storm drain.” Outside the clinic windows, rain drizzled steadily across the sleepy Colorado town of Blackwater Ridge. The weather had turned cold overnight, fog curling along the sidewalks while headlights glowed through the mist outside Main Street. Most businesses had already closed for the evening. Not Pine Creek Veterinary Clinic. The lights still glowed warmly behind the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that made the clinic look more like a tiny greenhouse than an animal hospital. Yellow and green plants covered nearly every corner—hanging ivy, sunflowers, succulents, snake plants, tiny pots of lavender lined carefully along the windowsills. Sage watered them every morning before opening. It made the place feel alive and safe. Anyone walking by could see straight inside the clinic from the street. She preferred it that way. Open spaces with clear views and no dark corners. Her fingers tightened briefly around the bandage before she forced herself to breathe again. The cat meowed pitifully. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Me too.” The bell above the front door jingled. “Please tell me you finally gave up on that thing.” Sage looked up immediately, relief softening her face. “Morning to you too, Mr. Hernandez.” Frank Hernandez grinned as he stepped inside carrying an impossibly fluffy golden retriever puppy under one arm and a paper cup carrier in the other. The puppy spotted Sage and instantly started wiggling like his entire body was powered by joy alone. “Well, someone’s excited,” Sage laughed. “Don’t encourage him,” Frank said. “He already thinks he pays rent.” The old man set the drink carrier on the front desk before gently placing the puppy on the floor. “Brought you peach juice.” Sage’s eyes lit up. “You’re my favorite customer, I'm going to make a portrait of you.” Frank snorted. “That’s because I tip.” “That too.” She grabbed the juice immediately, taking a grateful sip while Frank wandered toward the exam table. His weathered face softened slightly when he saw the injured cat. “You still got him?” Sage glanced down at the orange tabby. “He ate half a can of tuna this morning.” “That ain’t what I asked.” She sighed quietly. Frank had been bringing his puppy, Scout, into the clinic every two weeks since he adopted him from the shelter. Half the appointments were unnecessary, but Sage never complained. The man lived alone since his wife passed away, and she suspected he mostly came for company. Scout barked happily at the cat. The cat looked offended by existence itsel and Frank folded his arms across his chest. “Sage… somebody dumped that animal in a drainage ditch during a thunderstorm.” “I know.” “You already paid for the surgery yourself.” “I know.” “You’ve been sleeping in the clinic again, haven’t you?” Her silence answered for her and Frank sighed deeply. “You can’t save everything, sweetheart.” The words settled heavily inside her chest because she knew that already. Some things stayed broken no matter how badly you wanted to fix them. People included. Sage looked back at the cat and gently scratched behind his ears. He immediately leaned into her hand despite all the hissing from earlier. Traitor. “I’m not giving up on him,” she said softly. Frank studied her for a moment before shaking his head. “That’s your problem right there.” “It has a name Frank, it's called Compassion.” “You keep trying to rescue things that bite.” Before she could answer, the clinic door slammed open hard enough to rattle the hanging plants. “Oh, for God’s sake,” Sage muttered under her breath. Vanessa Walker stormed inside wearing six-inch heels, too much perfume, and enough anger to poison the entire building. Behind her came her exhausted husband carrying an annoyed gray cat inside a designer pet carrier. “Tell her!” Vanessa snapped, spinning toward him dramatically. “Tell her you don’t come here just to stare at her ass!” Frank immediately took a long sip of juice like he’d just been handed front-row tickets to a show. Sage closed her eyes briefly. Not again. “Mrs. Walker,” she said carefully. “Please lower your voice. You’re scaring the animals.” “The animals?” Vanessa screeched. “My husband drives twenty minutes across town because apparently nobody else can groom a cat except the pretty little vet with tight jeans and fat ass!” Her husband looked like a man actively questioning every decision that led him here. “Honey,” he sighed tiredly, “Luka likes her.” Vanessa gasped. “You see?! Now Luka is an excuse?” Sage blinked slowly. Luka, the gray British Shorthair currently glaring through the pet carrier, was one of her easiest patients. The cat came in once a month for brushing treatments because his thick fur matted easily, especially around the neck where he wore expensive jeweled collars Vanessa insisted on buying. Apparently Luka was now ruining marriages. Fantastic. Then Vanessa spun too quickly and knocked directly into the ceramic flower vase near the reception desk. There's a loud crash and water exploded across the floor. Broken ceramic scattered everywhere. Sage froze and the room fell silent. That vase had been handmade. Frank’s late wife had made it before she died and he gave it to me. Vanessa looked down at the mess carelessly. “Oh.” Something inside Sage snapped. “You need to replace that,” she said immediately. Vanessa frowned. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” Her voice came out cold and sharper now. “I’m done with this behavior. Every single month you come in here screaming accusations because your husband brings his cat to appointments.” “Well maybe if you dressed more professionally—” “Maybe if your husband wanted another woman, he wouldn’t still be standing next to you looking miserable.” Frank choked on his juice. Vanessa’s face turned bright red. Her husband looked one second away from applauding. “Honey,” he said quickly, stepping between them, “I’ll pay for the vase. I promise. We’ll leave right after Luka gets checked.” Vanessa whipped toward him. “You’re defending her?!” “No,” he said with the exhausted patience of a man who’d survived too many arguments. “I’m trying not to get banned from the only clinic Luka trusts.” Sage bent down and started picking up broken ceramic carefully. Frank crouched beside her to help. The rest of the afternoon blurred together after that. Appointments, Vaccines, Nail trims, Phone calls and Cleaning kennels. At one point, a terrified bulldog peed directly onto her sneakers. At another, Luka attempted to claw her face off during his brushing appointment before immediately purring once she scratched beneath his chin. “Menace,” she muttered while trimming a knot from his fur. The cat blinked slowly at her like royalty accepting tribute. By the time sunset painted the mountains orange outside the clinic windows, Sage was exhausted. Her back ached, her eyes burned and she still hadn’t eaten dinner. The orange tabby slept peacefully now inside a heated recovery kennel near the back office. Alive but still fighting. She locked the front door, flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and leaned against the counter with a tired sigh. Quiet finally settled over the clinic. For a few precious seconds, everything felt calm. Then her phone vibrated and Sage stiffened instantly. Nobody called this number, nobody except— Her chest tightened when she saw the name. Ethan. Her brother. She answered immediately. “Ethan?” Static crackled briefly before his familiar voice filled the line. “There you are baby sis.” Emotion hit her so suddenly it hurt. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “It’s been a month.” “I know.” “You scared me Ethan, why stay that long.” “I had to stay dark for a while.” Fear curled coldly in her stomach. “Did he find you?” “No.” But Ethan answered too quickly and Sage closed her eyes. “Don’t lie to me.” Silence stretched between them then he sighed heavily. “He’s still looking Sage, I have to be careful for us.” Her knees weakened slightly, even after two years. Two states, three towns and a new identity. He's still looking. Her father’s influence stretched farther than most people understood. Money bought silence, loyalty and information. And her husband— No…..Ex-husband, even thinking the word made her skin crawl. “You need to enroll this semester,” Ethan said suddenly. Sage frowned. “What?” “College starts in three weeks. I already handled the paperwork.” Panic immediately flooded her chest and she was shaking her head. “No.” “Sage—” “No Ethan, I don't want to go to college.” “You can’t hide forever.” “I’m not hiding.” “You’re living under a fake name in a mountain town working seventy-hour weeks at a vet clinic.” “I like my life, and for once…I'm using my real name.” “You deserve more than survival.” Tears burned unexpectedly behind her eyes. “You don’t understand.” “I understand perfectly.” “No, you don’t!” she snapped, voice shaking now. “You’re not the one he married.” There's a heavy silence as Sage pressed a trembling hand against her mouth. The memories came too fast after that. She being in locked doors, bruises hidden under sweaters. Her father forced her back every single time she tried to leave. Because appearances mattered more than her safety. Always. “He won’t stop looking,” she whispered brokenly. “What if somebody recognizes me? What if they take me back?” “Nobody is taking you anywhere.” “You can’t promise that.” “Yes, I can.” His voice hardened instantly and she exhaled shakily. “He doesn’t own you anymore.” Sage started shaking. “You didn’t see his face the last time—” “I saw enough before I beat his ass up.” Tears slid down her cheeks now. “I’m happy here,” she cried softly. “I finally feel safe.” The clinic blurred around her. The plants, the soft lights and the sleeping animals. This tiny little life she built from scraps and fear. She loved it. God, she loved it. Ethan exhaled heavily through the phone. “Sage…” “I can’t go back,” she whispered. “What if they find me? The Cahall…” “Dont f*****g mention their name!” He warned me in that authoritative tone and I sobbed. “But if they do—” His voice cut through her panic sharply. “They stopped being your family or friends the day they dragged you back to him. So don't ever say their name. No one is taking you back.” The words shattered something inside her completely.