Mate 16 - Endure

Sage

The night Chase promised he would take me away from here, I had held onto his words like a lifeline. It was foolish, perhaps, to cling to something so uncertain. And yet, a part of me—one that had long been buried under years of neglect, pain, and duty—believed in him.

Because Chase had saved me. Not once, but twice.

And now, as I stood under the moonlit sky, the weight of his presence beside me, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.

There was something different about him, something that made me forget the world outside. He made me feel safe. Not in the way knights patrolling the palace made me feel safe, nor in the way well-rehearsed words of reassurance from nobles did. No, with Chase, it was different. It was raw, unspoken, real.

And that terrified me.

“Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, afraid that if I spoke too loudly, the moment would shatter. “Why would you do that for me?” I turned to him, searching his face for an answer, for something—anything—that would make this make sense. “I’m nothing to you.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his gaze darkened as if my words had wounded him. “Nothing?” Chase let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “You think you’re nothing?”

He took a step closer, closing the space between us, the heat of his presence making my breath hitch. His crimson eyes locked onto mine, and for a second, I thought I saw something flicker in them—something intense, something raw.

“You have no idea what you mean to me, Sage.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling slightly. “Then tell me.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his black hair before his gaze softened. “You don’t know how you saved me,” he murmured, his voice laced with something unspoken. “You don’t know how you've been my strength to keep going every day.”

I furrowed my brows. “What are you talking about?”

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “I’ve held onto a lot of things just to see you again.”

The way he said it sent shivers down my spine. His words felt too heavy, too filled with a depth I couldn’t yet grasp.

“But I don’t understand,” I whispered, my heart pounding.

“You will,” he assured me, his fingers brushing against mine, the touch sending a jolt of warmth up my arm. “One day, you’ll understand everything.”

“But—”

Before I could finish, a sharp voice pierced the silence, calling his name. The sound shattered the moment between us like fragile glass.

Chase stiffened, his expression instantly hardening. His body tensed, muscles coiling as if preparing for battle.

“I need to go back,” he said quickly, his voice suddenly urgent. He reached out, grabbing my hand in his, holding it tightly as if he didn’t want to let go. “But listen to me, Sage—wait for me.”

I opened my mouth, but Chase pressed something small and cool into my palm, his fingers wrapping over mine.

“Always stay courageous,” he murmured, his voice softer now, gentler. “Take this.”

I looked down and gasped. A bracelet—crimson red, woven with delicate golden threads that shimmered under the moonlight. It felt warm in my grasp, as if it held a piece of him.

I looked up at him, my chest tightening. “What is this?”

His thumb brushed against the back of my hand in a fleeting, tender gesture. “A promise,” he said simply. “I’ll come back for it. And when I do, I'll explain everything.”

I opened my mouth to say something, to stop him, to beg him to stay just a little longer—but before I could form the words, he stepped back into the shadows.

“Wait for me, Sage.”

And then, just like that, he was gone.

The night swallowed him whole, leaving behind nothing but the echo of his voice and the weight of the bracelet in my palm.

I stood there, frozen, my chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

Why did his absence feel so much heavier than it should?

I clutched the bracelet tightly against my chest, my fingers trembling. I didn’t know what this meant. I didn’t know what he meant.

But I knew one thing.

Somehow, someway—Chase would come back and save me from here.

The next day, I visited Greyson. The scent of herbs and medicine clung to the air, mixing with the faint traces of blood. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the stone walls, making the room feel colder than it already was.

“Just wait for me here,” I said to Lea who nodded.

Greyson lay on the bed, his torso wrapped in thick bandages, his usual sharp expression dulled by exhaustion. But despite the pain he must have been in, he still managed a smirk when he saw me enter.

“You’re safe,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but relieved. “Good.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat as I stepped closer. The sight of his injuries made my chest tighten with guilt. He had been hurt because of me—because of what had happened that night.

I knelt beside him, lowering my head. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This happened because of me.”

Greyson sighed and shook his head. “I already told you, Sage. You don’t have to apologize. I did what I thought was right. Damien needed to be stopped before he did something reckless.”

I bit my lip, hesitating. His words only made my guilt worse because he didn’t even know the full truth yet.

Greyson frowned at my silence. “What exactly happened?” he asked. “Why was Damien like that?”

I stiffened, my hands curling into fists in my lap. I hadn’t planned to tell him—not because I didn’t trust him, but because there was nothing that could be done. There were no witnesses. No proof. Just my word against theirs.

But Greyson deserved to know.

I took a shaky breath, my voice barely above a whisper. “Theoden.”

Greyson’s expression darkened instantly. “What about him?”

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my entire body trembling. “He—he tried to force himself on me.”

The words felt like poison leaving my lips, and I hated how weak my voice sounded. How vulnerable I felt even saying it. But Greyson’s reaction was instant—his entire body tensed, his jaw clenching so tightly I thought it might break.

His breathing grew ragged, his hands balling into fists against the sheets. “He what?”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to continue, my voice barely steady. “I fought back. I—I managed to escape. I ran as fast as I could, and that’s when I bumped into Damien.”

Greyson’s eyes burned with fury, but I could see the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for me, to make sure I was truly safe.

I let out a bitter laugh. “And do you know what he did?”

Greyson remained silent, his jaw clenched, waiting for me to continue.

“He didn’t believe me,” I whispered, my nails digging into my palms. “He looked at me with disgust. He blamed me.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Greyson’s breathing turned ragged, his entire body trembling with rage. “That bastard,” he seethed, his voice deadly low. “Both of them. I’ll kill them.”

He tried to push himself up, his eyes flashing with murderous intent, but I quickly reached out, placing a firm hand on his chest to stop him. “Greyson, no.”

He clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Sage, you can’t expect me to just sit here after hearing that!” His voice was sharp, laced with barely restrained fury. “He hurt you—he tried to—” He cut himself off, shaking his head, his entire body shaking. “And Damien—he just let it happen? He blamed you?”

I nodded stiffly, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

Greyson slammed his fist against the bed in frustration. “I’ll make them pay. I swear to you, I’ll—”

“No, Greyson,” I interrupted, gripping his arm. “We can’t.”

He turned to me sharply. “What do you mean we can’t?”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “There were no witnesses.”

“So what?” he growled.

I shook my head. “If we accuse him without proof, it’ll only backfire on me. I’ll be the one punished.”

Greyson let out a harsh curse, running a hand through his hair. “This is insane. They can’t just get away with this.”

I felt the same rage, the same helplessness, but I had already accepted the reality of it. Theoden was untouchable, and Damien . . . .

I closed my eyes, pushing back the bitter sting of betrayal.

Greyson exhaled sharply, his body still trembling with restrained fury. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice tight. “We can’t act now. But I won’t let this go, Sage. I will find proof. I will expose him for what he is.”

I shook my head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care.” His voice was steel, his gaze unwavering. “I won’t let this slide. But you—you need to be careful.”

I bit my lip, nodding slowly. “I will.”

Greyson’s expression softened for a moment, and then, after a long silence, he reached out hesitantly, gripping my hand. “You’re not alone in this,” he said quietly. “I swear it.”

A lump formed in my throat, and I squeezed his hand back.

I can’t help but compare Damien to him, they are different. Greyson believed in me, which his brother can’t do.

In the afternoon, I was summoned to the empress’s chambers, walking felt like a death sentence. My heart pounded, a suffocating weight pressing against my ribs.

By the time I reached the grand doors, my breath was shallow. The knights stationed outside didn’t even spare me a glance before pushing the heavy doors open.

I stepped inside.

The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, its heady fragrance doing little to calm my frayed nerves. The empress sat regally upon her throne-like chair, her gown of deep crimson pooling around her like a river of blood. The jewels on her fingers glimmered in the candlelight as she traced them idly along the armrest, her expression unreadable yet suffocating in its silent judgment.

I took a slow breath, stepping forward and curtsied. “I greet the soaring heights of Angentha, Empress Nyx.

Her sharp, assessing gaze bore into me, her silence stretching unbearably. I could feel the weight of it pressing down on my shoulders, as though she was measuring my worth and finding it lacking.

And then, she spoke.

“I do not care about the details of what happened.” Her voice was cold, clipped, a blade pressed to my throat. “But I do know one thing—this disgraceful incident occurred because of you.”

The accusation struck like a physical blow. My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms to ground myself.

“Your Majesty, I—”

“You caused discord between Greyson and Damien,” she continued, her tone sharp as steel. “You—who have no rightful place here—have managed to disrupt the harmony of this palace.” She leaned forward slightly, her presence looming. “And as if that wasn’t enough, you had the audacity to cross paths with Rosana.”

Rosana.

Even now, the name was a noose tightening around my throat.

The empress’ lip curled in disdain. “Tell me, Sage. Are you simply foolish, or are you purposefully trying to make enemies of those far above you?”

I swallowed the sharp retort that burned my tongue. Nothing I said would matter. She had already made up her mind.

Still, I forced myself to speak. “That wasn’t my intention, Your Majesty.”

Her laughter was soft, but there was no warmth to it—only cruel amusement. “Your intentions do not matter. What matters is the result.” She narrowed her eyes. “And the result is that you have made a mess of things, creating unnecessary tension.”

Unnecessary tension.

As if I had wanted any of this. As if I had orchestrated the events that led to Greyson being dragged away in chains, Damien looking at me with nothing but scorn, and Theoden—

I suppressed the shudder that threatened to overtake me.

The empress was still speaking. “I will not tolerate your presence disrupting the stability of this palace any longer.”

I felt the shift in her tone before she even said the words that followed, and yet, they still cut deeper than I expected.

“I will only accept Rosana. No matter what.”

There it was. The final, inescapable truth.

I had never truly belonged here. No matter what I did, no matter how much I endured, I would never be enough in her eyes.

The sting of it was sharp, but I didn’t let my expression falter. I couldn’t.

Instead, I bowed my head slightly. “I understand, Your Majesty.”

She watched me for a long moment, as if waiting—waiting for me to break, to plead, to protest. But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Finally, she exhaled, waving a hand dismissively. “You may leave.”

I bowed once more before turning on my heel, walking out with measured steps. The weight of her gaze followed me even as the heavy doors closed behind me.

Only when I was alone did I let out a shuddering breath.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady the storm raging inside me. My pulse was erratic, my skin cold despite the heat of the torches lining the hallway.

I felt like I was drowning.

But I refused to sink.

No matter what they threw at me—no matter how many times they tried to break me—I would endure.

I had to. Especially now that there was someone worth holding on.