Taken by the Outcast Alpha (Whispers of Fate)

6. Sage

Chapter six

Sage

I hold my breath, the weight of my question hanging in the air between us. Talk about starting with the hard questions. But I've never been one to back down. Damien almost broke me of that habit, but something about Finn makes me think that even if he doesn't want to answer my question, he'd never dream of threatening me, harming me, or making me feel unsafe in my skin. He's not Damien.

"It's... complicated," he repeats his earlier words. "I've taken possession of an item that others are looking for. And I need to clear my name before I can take it back where it belongs." Then he turns to me and looks me directly in the eye. "Now it is your turn. Who are you looking over your shoulder for?"

"Let's just say I've had some… unwanted attention lately."

Finn's amber eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of something—protectiveness?—passing through them. "Unwanted attention? From who?"

I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself. "Someone I thought I could trust. Someone who... who turned out to be very different than I expected."

Finn takes a step closer, then seems to think better of it and retreats. "Did they hurt you?"

"Not physically," I whisper, surprised by my honesty. "But emotionally? Yeah. He... he scared me. Made me feel like I wasn't safe anywhere."

Finn's jaw clenches, a low growl rumbling in his chest. It should frighten me, but oddly, it doesn't. "No one deserves to feel that way."

I look up at him, struck by the sincerity in his voice. "Thanks. I'm... I'm working on it. Getting away, starting fresh. That's why I'm headed to Mount Washington."

"Mount Washington?" Finn's eyebrows shoot up. "That's where this rally is headed—so we can help each other out."

"Really?" I feel a little suspicious. "What are the odds?"

He shrugs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something."

I snort, but there's no actual heat behind it. "Yeah, maybe it's telling us we both have terrible luck."

I tense as Finn stands and moves towards me. His tall frame seems to fill the tiny room, and for a moment, I'm reminded of how vulnerable I am. But as he draws near, his presence doesn't feel threatening. Instead, there's a warmth radiating from him that makes my skin tingle.

He pauses just inches away from me, so close I can feel his breath on my ear. "Or maybe it's telling us that we have to be more selective about who we let close," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

I'm suddenly hyper aware of every point where our bodies are almost touching. Heat blooms in my cheeks and spreads throughout my body, a sensation I haven't felt in a long time. Before I can respond, Finn steps away and disappears into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

I let out a shaky breath. What the hell was that? I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm my racing heart. This is ridiculous. I barely know this man, and yet...

My eyes drift to the bed, and reality comes crashing back. It's tiny, barely big enough for one person, let alone two. And there's absolutely nowhere else in this cramped room for either of us to sleep.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, the word encompassing all my conflicted feelings. It doesn't help the situation at all, but it feels good to say it out loud.

"Do you think that will help?" Finn grins as he re-enters the room.

Realizing how that could be interpreted, my cheeks flush so hot I’m convinced I could start a small fire.

Finn is making a sex joke.

And it has flustered the absolute shit out of me. My words are ungraceful and blustering as I blurt out, “Well, if by 'help' you mean further complicate my already chaotic life , then absolutely!” I throw my arms up dramatically, nearly knocking over the lamp on the rickety dresser.

Finn’s eyebrow shoots up, and the grin on his face makes my heart race erratically. “Complication is my specialty. You should see my life; it’s basically a reality TV show, but with more drama and fewer commercial breaks."

My eyes dart to the bed, which looks like it was made for a toddler, and I immediately break into a nervous giggle. “Please, let’s not turn this into a reality show. I’m not ready for that level of public embarrassment.”

“Your wish,” Finn says, “my command.”

My cheeks are definitely still burning. Maybe I could start that fire after all.

* * *

I wake with a start as sunlight streams through the window, momentarily disoriented. The warmth enveloping me isn't just from the morning sun, but from Finn's strong arm draped over my body. I'm snuggled right up against him, my back pressed to his chest. My heart races, but not from fear. For the first time in months, I feel... safe.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. This feeling of security, of comfort – it's addictive. I could get used to this. I want to get used to this. But Finn's words from last night echo in my mind: he has his own shit to deal with. And me? I'm a walking disaster, trailing danger and complications in my wake.

I close my eyes, savoring the warmth for just a moment longer. Damien's face flashes in my mind, a stark reminder of why I can't have this. Why I can't drag Finn into my mess. He doesn't know about Damien, about the relentless pursuit, the threats, the way my power has become both a blessing and a curse.

Yeah, he suspects something, or has at least figured out that I’ve got a reason to be looking over my shoulder, but he can’t know the extent of it. Doesn’t know how much of a danger I am simply because of the magic in my blood.

Magic. The word reverberates through me, and I tense involuntarily.

I hadn't even considered telling Finn about my powers. How could I? He thinks I'm just a normal woman with normal problems. If he knew the truth—about the witch blood running through my veins, about the spells I can weave, about the danger that follows me because of it—he'd run for the hills. Or worse, he might try to use me, just like Damien did.

I shift slightly, trying to extricate myself from Finn's embrace without waking him. But as I move, his arm tightens around me, and I hear a low, sleepy rumble from his chest.

I slip out of Finn's arms as gently as I can, holding my breath. My heart's still racing, but now it's from the fear of waking him. I tiptoe to the bathroom, grabbing my bag on the way.

Once inside, I lean against the door, exhaling slowly. I jump slightly when I see Nox hanging upside down in the corner of the bathroom. Get it together, Sage. I splash cold water on my face, trying to shock some sense into myself. As I dress, I think about how it felt to wake up in Finn's arms. Safe. Warm. Wanted. No. I shake my head, banishing the thoughts. I can't afford to get attached, not with Damien still out there.

I brush my teeth, run a comb through my tangled hair, and apply a touch of mascara. It's not much, but it makes me feel a bit more put together. More in control.

Taking a deep breath, I open the bathroom door and step back into the room. My eyes immediately lock onto Finn, and I freeze.

He's awake. And shirtless.

My mouth goes dry as I take in the sight of his bare chest. Broad shoulders, defined muscles, a dusting of dark hair. But what catches my eye is the long scar running from his left shoulder across his chest.

A part of me wants to ask about it. To reach out and trace it with my fingers, to learn its story. But that's too personal, too intimate. We're not... anything. Just two strangers thrown together by circumstance.

I force myself to look away, busying myself by packing up my things. "Morning," I manage to croak out, wincing at how rough my voice sounds. "I hope I didn't wake you."

I force myself to focus on folding my clothes, trying to ignore the way my skin tingles with awareness of Finn's presence. His quiet words catch me off guard.

"I wish you had," Finn says, so softly I'm not sure he meant for me to hear.

My hands freeze mid-fold. Did he really just say that? I glance up, catching his gaze for a brief moment before he looks away, a hint of color rising in his cheeks.

"I..." I start, not sure how to respond. The air between us feels charged, heavy with unspoken words and possibilities.

Finn clears his throat, breaking the tension. "I'll just..." He gestures towards the bathroom, grabbing his clean shirt from the foot of the bed.

I nod, not trusting my voice. As he passes by me, I catch a whiff of his scent - earthy and masculine, with a hint of something wild. It makes my head spin.

Or maybe it’s the world that’s spinning, and I’m the only thing standing still.