The Master Psychic

Chapter 13 -the choice

The front door clicked shut behind her, and Sage stood in the entryway for a moment, clutching her backpack strap. Mason’s words still echoed in her head, steady and heavy: It’s your decision.

Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. She was tired of whispers, half-truths, and secrets spoken behind closed doors. If Jared had a soul tie to her, if her visions had been pulling her toward him all along, then she deserved to hear everything—out loud, all at once.

She set her bag down and lifted her chin. “Family meeting,” she called, her voice louder than she meant it to be, carrying through the house.

From the kitchen, Harper’s voice floated back, warm but surprised. “Family meeting?”

“Yes,” Sage answered, taking a few steps toward the living room. “Living room. Now, please.”

She didn’t wait for them to respond, just walked with purpose, her heart pounding harder the closer she got. She sat down on the edge of the couch, fingers knotting together in her lap.

A moment later, Harper appeared in the doorway, drying her hands with a towel, her brows lifting slightly at Sage’s serious tone. Mason followed, his protective gaze scanning her face like he already knew what this was about. Then came Jared, slower than the others, hesitating for just a second before stepping into the room.

They all looked at her expectantly.

Sage’s throat tightened, but she didn’t back down. “If we’re going to keep living in this house together, then no more secrets. I need the truth. All of it.”

The room went still, a tension weaving itself between the four of them like threads being pulled tight.

For the first time, Sage felt like the center of the storm—and she wasn’t going to run from it. The silence in the living room pressed down on all of them, thick and unyielding. Sage sat forward on the couch, her hands tightening in her lap, determination sparking in her eyes.

“I know,” she said finally, her voice steady though her heart hammered. “I know about the soul tie with Jared.”

Harper’s lips parted in surprise, Mason’s jaw clenched, and Jared froze where he stood, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face.

“I overheard,” Sage admitted, lifting her chin. “I heard everything you told Mason, Jared. About how the visions weren’t meant to scare me, but to show me who I’m connected to.”

Mason swore under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. “Sage—”

“No.” She cut him off, her tone sharper than they were used to hearing from her. “Don’t try to protect me from this. Not anymore. I deserve the truth.”

Her gaze swept over each of them, landing briefly on Jared before settling back on Mason. “I’m not saying I accept this connection. Not yet. I’ll make that choice when I’m ready—at dinner tonight. But before I do, I want the whole truth. Everything. No more secrets. No more half-answers. I need to know what this really means, where it comes from, and why me.”

Harper shifted uneasily, wringing her hands with quiet worry. Mason’s expression darkened, protective instinct warring with the knowledge that Sage was right. And Jared—he lowered his head slightly, almost in deference, but his silver eyes never left her.

Sage leaned back, spine straight against the couch. “You all wanted to treat me like I wasn’t ready. Well, I’m ready now. So start talking.”

The room held its breath, and for the first time, Sage felt like she wasn’t just the girl with visions—she was the one demanding answers. The room felt like it was holding its breath, the air tight and still as everyone waited to see who would speak first. Mason’s arms were crossed, Harper’s worried gaze kept flicking between them, but Jared—he stepped forward. Not too close, but far enough from the shadows to meet Sage’s eyes.

“There’s one thing you don’t know yet,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Sage’s stomach twisted. “What is it?”

Jared hesitated, his gaze flicking briefly toward Mason as though expecting him to cut in. But when Mason stayed silent, Jared squared his shoulders and went on.

“If you choose to accept the connection between us,” he began carefully, “and one day… if we had children, there’s something important about how the bloodline works.”

Sage’s heart thumped harder, her throat going dry. “Go on.”

“Only the sons would inherit the Hyde ability,” Jared explained, his silver eyes locked on hers. “Daughters wouldn’t. It’s always been that way in Hyde lines. The gift—or curse, depending on how you see it—passes only to the male children.”

For a moment, Sage just stared at him, trying to process. Her fingers curled tighter into the couch cushion. “So… if I chose this, I’d be passing on a monster to my children?”

Jared’s jaw tightened, but his voice softened. “Not a monster. Not if it’s raised right. Not if it learns control.” He paused, his expression weighted with something unspoken. “Like I did.”

Mason bristled, stepping forward slightly, his protective energy rolling off him. But Sage lifted a hand, silencing him before he could jump in. Her gaze never wavered from Jared.

“That’s a lot to put on me,” she said quietly, her voice sharp at the edges. “And you should have told me sooner.”

Jared didn’t flinch. He only nodded once, as if accepting her anger. “I know. But you deserved the truth. All of it.”

The room went still again, the weight of his words sinking into Sage’s chest like stones. Sage sat there, her heartbeat loud in her ears, Jared’s words still echoing. Sons carrying the Hyde ability. Generations of it. The thought made her stomach knot.

She let the silence hang for a long moment before she straightened her shoulders and looked at each of them in turn—Mason, Harper, then Jared.

“Alright,” she said firmly. “If there’s anything else—anything at all—I need to know, you’d better tell me now.”

Mason shook his head slowly, his jaw tight. “You’ve heard everything, Sage.”

Harper’s eyes softened, her voice gentle but sure. “There’s nothing left to hide from you, sweetheart. You know it all now.”

Sage’s gaze shifted to Jared last, her eyes sharp. He held her stare for a long beat, then dipped his head in a solemn nod. “That’s it. No more secrets.”

Sage pressed her lips together, studying them for another moment as if daring one of them to flinch, to give away some hidden truth. When no one did, she exhaled slowly.

“Good,” she said at last, pushing herself up from the couch. “Then I’m going to my room to think. I’ll give you my answer at dinner.”

Her words landed like a gavel, final and decisive. Without waiting for a response, she turned and started for the stairs. Each step felt heavy, but her spine stayed straight.

At the top, she paused just long enough to glance back at the three of them still in the living room. Mason tense, Harper worried, Jared unreadable.

Then she disappeared into her room, closing the door quietly behind her, finally alone with her thoughts. Sage sat cross-legged on her bed, the late afternoon light spilling through her window in soft golden streaks. The house below her was quiet, but the silence in her room was deafening.

She pressed her palms against her knees, staring at the floor, thoughts running wild.

A soul tie. A bond that can’t be broken. Sons who would inherit Jared’s ability. Daughters who wouldn’t. A future shaped by choices I don’t even know if I’m ready to make.

Her chest ached as she thought about it. She wanted to laugh, wanted to cry. She was only eighteen—still in high school, still counting down the days until graduation. And yet here she was, being asked to decide if she was going to step into a life bound to a Hyde.

Do I even want this connection? she thought bitterly. Do I even want him?

But then Jared’s face drifted through her mind—those silver eyes that had haunted her dreams for months, the quiet intensity in the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing in the room that mattered.

Her stomach flipped, equal parts fear and something she didn’t want to name.

Mason’s voice echoed next: It’s always your choice.

Sage swallowed hard, her throat tight. If she chose to accept the bond, it meant opening herself to a life she couldn’t predict—a life with Jared, a life where her children might inherit something dark and dangerous. If she refused, maybe she could go on pretending she was normal… though deep down, she knew the visions would never let her walk away completely.

She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them, whispering into the empty room, “What am I supposed to do?”

Her eyes stung, but she blinked the tears back. Whatever choice she made, it had to be hers—and hers alone.

The clock ticked steadily on her nightstand, each second pulling her closer to dinner, closer to the moment she’d have to speak her decision out loud.