Alethea
I know I shouldn’t tell him yet. But deep down, it feels right. He deserves to know what I’m planning. It’s only fair to give him a heads-up.
“How are you preparing for the ball, Ally?” Asher asks, smoothly changing the topic.
“I’ll be there, of course,” I answer.
“Okay,” he says simply, still holding my hand as we walk side by side toward the pack house.
Every wolf we pass bows their head with respect. Not just to their Alpha, but to me too. I feel their eyes on us as we move-together.
We reach Declan’s room, and still, Asher hasn’t let go of my hand. I open the door for him, and he gently lays Declan on the bed. He brushes back our son’s hair with the softest touch. My heart clenches at the sight.
Then, without a word, he returns to me. His warm fingers wrap around mine again, and he leads me out of the room.
We walk in silence to his office. Once we’re inside, he gestures to the chair across from his desk. “Sit,” he says calmly, then takes his seat.
I watch him closely. I search his face for anger or disappointment-anything-after what I told him. After I said I’m leaving.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Ally,” he finally says, eyes still on the papers in front of him.
“Our paths just haven’t crossed,” I mumble.
“Hmm,” he hums, scribbling something down in a notebook.
The silence stretches. It’s thick, heavy. I fidget in my seat. I just want to leave, to get away from this room and the weight of his presence.
“Why did you bring me here?” I ask, needing to break the tension.
“You’re leaving, Ally,” he says, his voice low. “I just want you close… for as long as you’re still here. So I can have something to hold on to when you go.”
My heart stumbles. His words hit harder than I expect. Why would he say something like that-like he’s already mourning me?
Are you expecting him to beg? Xena purrs inside me.
Of course, I snap back. He should at least ask why.
He already knows, she says gently. But maybe you want him to fight for you.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to steady myself.
Would you stay… if he begged you to?
Just then, he looks up from his work and meets my eyes. “You know I can feel your emotions from here, right?”
That alone makes me pause. Makes me breathe again.
I watch him more closely now, really see him. The way his shoulders move as he writes, the concentration in his eyes. The slow, graceful way his left hand moves across the paper.
There’s something strangely beautiful about it.
I’ve seen parents force their left-handed kids to switch hands. But not Asher. And not Declan either. I’ve seen him hold his crayons with the same hand as his father. I smile quietly to myself. Why force something that makes them unique?
Asher keeps writing, unaware of the quiet storm inside me.
“Take a picture, Ally,” he says softly, “that way you’ll have a copy of me.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. Instead, I slump back into the chair, sighing. “It’s been a long day, Asher. I need to relax and eat something.”
Before he can respond, there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Asher calls.
The door swings open, and one of the maids enters with a tray of food in her hands. She walks gracefully to the desk.
“Put it right there,” he says, pointing to the spot directly in front of me.
I blink at the tray as she sets it down. “Is this for me?” I ask, confused.
“Yes. Eat, Ally. You need your strength.”
“For what exactly?” I challenge, raising a brow.
“Just eat, Ally.”
As if on cue, my stomach growls-loudly. I see a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.
“Prick,” I mutter under my breath.
“I heard that,” he says without looking up.
“You were meant to hear it, Alpha,” I say, grabbing the tray and beginning to eat.
He doesn’t respond, just keeps writing, but there’s a small grin on his face.
When I finish eating, I rise from my chair. “Thanks, Asher,” I say as I smooth my clothes and prepare to leave.
“Thank you, too… for staying,” he replies, his voice softer this time.
Just then, the butterflies in my stomach take flight. My face heats up, a blush creeping across my cheeks. Why now?
Then he stands.
“What can I do to make you stay, Ally?” he asks.
He’s only inches away now. His eyes search mine, and I see the battle warring inside him-hope and doubt tangled together.
I lift my hand and place it gently on his chest. I shouldn’t, I know that. It’s unfair. But I’ve wanted to touch him since the moment I saw him again.
A low growl rumbles in his chest at the contact. It’s deep and raw, and I feel it under my palm. My breath hitches.
Slowly, I let my hand fall.
“Nothing, Asher,” I whisper. “My mind is made up.”
He nods, jaw tightening, eyes unreadable. “Okay, Ally. See you later.”
I turn and walk toward the door, my heart a storm in my chest.
Xena starts to protest in my mind, urging me to turn back, to go to him.
“You don’t have to leave. Go back,” she pleads.
But I don’t.
I can feel His A piercing gaze burns into my back as I walk away, but I refuse to look. If I do, I might not be strong enough to keep going.
I make my way toward my room, my steps slow and heavy. My thoughts are everywhere, and my heart is still racing from the encounter.
Just as I step inside, I freeze.
There’s something on my bed.
A bag.
My heart spikes in panic, pounding in my chest like a warning drum. I glance around quickly, scanning the room for signs of an intruder. My mind flashes back to when I was taken-dragged away against my will. Since then, I’ve been on edge, watching shadows, expecting danger at every corner.
Please, don’t blame me for being paranoid.
I sniff the air, holding my breath as I try to pick up any unfamiliar scent.
Nothing.
No trace of anyone strange. No unfamiliar energy. That alone helps my heart slow a little. But my mind is still racing, tossing around thoughts like a storm.
Cautiously, I move closer to the bed. My fingers tremble slightly as I reach for the bag. I open it slowly-ready for anything.
But when I see what’s inside, I let out a deep, shaky breath.