Ashley’s POV
I stood under the warm cascade of water in the shower, letting it trail down my skin, hoping it would wash away the lingering unease clinging to me like a shadow. But it didn’t. My mind kept circling back to the dream, that strange vivid dream that felt more like a warning than just fragments of my imagination.
What had that all been about? I wondered, feeling the water glide over my face as I closed my eyes.
I replayed it, remembering every chilly word the voice had spoken: Demon Wolf-something dark, sinister, entwined within the fabric of The Hunt. What hunt, and what night? The words sounded cryptic, like a riddle with no meaning whatsoever but to harass me.
I let out a frustrated sigh and turned off the water, stepping out into the cool air that kissed my damp skin. A slight shiver ran over me. I took a towel and began drying my hair as my mind went into overdrive. Outside, the sky had already surrendered to the nightfall, its darkness pressing against the windows like some unwanted guest.
Steven wasn’t back yet.
I quickly dressed into something comfortable and went downstairs. The house was quiet, that kind of silence that is heavy, almost oppressive. It seemed everyone had gone to bed, leaving me in solitude with nothing but my restless thoughts.
I headed to the kitchen, grabbing a drink and a handful of cookies, hoping the small comfort of food might ease the tension curling in my chest. I settled onto the couch, my eyes flickering to the door every few minutes, waiting-hoping-for Steven to walk through.
But time dragged on.
The drink was gone, the cookies reduced to crumbs on the plate, and yet there was no sign of him. I let out a sigh, running my fingers through my hair, trying to shake off the growing worry.
“What’s keeping him so long?” I whispered, the question sticking in the air of the empty room with no one to answer.
Then, as if my disquiet had tagged the string of a puppet master, a memory swam through-a distant hum of my mother’s voice, soft and soothing, pulling me back to easy times.
Flashback
“Let me teach you a trick,” she said, her eyes twinkling with that familiar warmth which had forever made me feel safe.
“A trick?” I asked innocently, young curiosity in my mind.
“Yes. Whenever anything scares you, count from one to seven,” she returned with a soft smile.
“One to seven?” I repeated, cocking my head, not quite understanding.
“Exactly. Count from one to seven and repeat it seven times. When you finish, I promise-help will always find you.”
“Really?” I’d asked, eyes wide with wonder. She nodded confidently.
“But why must I say it seven times?”
She leaned forward, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear; her fingers, laced with quiet magic, seemed to be performing an everyday gesture that only mothers knew.
“Because seven is a number reserved for the extraordinary, darling. It’s a lucky number. So long as fear clings to your heart, do as I’ve told you, and your guardian angel will find and protect you.”
I had nodded then, not really catching the depth in her words; but now, sitting alone, bathed in the dim radiance of the living room, her voice became that fragile strand of comfort for which I urgently needed to keep hold.
Flashback Ends
I am not exactly afraid now, but it worked then, so probably my luck might favor me once more.
“Let’s see if you’re really my guardian angel, Steven,” I whispered, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
I closed my eyes and steadied my breath, starting to count softly. “Six. seven.” I whispered, letting the words hang in the silence before peeling my eyes open slowly.
The room was silent-too silent. My heart sank slightly as I looked around. A heavy sigh escaped my lips.
“I can’t believe I actually thought that would work,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. “When did I become so naive?
I got to my feet, brushing off the foolishness clinging to me like dust. “I should just go back to bed,” I muttered, turning toward the door.
But before I could take a step, the door creaked open unexpectedly.
“Luna, you… you’re still awake?” Steven’s voice filled the room as he stepped inside, his eyes slightly wide with surprise.
A grin broke across my face. “It worked!” I exclaimed, my heart leaping with this weird sense of triumph.
“What worked?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
“It really worked! You really are my guardian angel!” I beamed, unable to contain the excitement bubbling inside me.
“What guardian angel?” he repeated, his expression a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment.
“Nothing. You wouldn’t understand,” I replied, still smiling like an idiot.
“Stop giving me that creepy smile,” he muttered, shaking his head. But I couldn’t stop. The warmth of his presence had me caught in a loop of amusement.
“I called you, and you came,” I said softly.
“I didn’t see your call,” he replied, waving his phone like evidence.
Oh, not that kind of call,” I said, my grin growing bigger. “I used a better method.”
He groaned, rubbing his temple. “Wait… did you drink tequila again?”
“What? No, I’m not drunk,” I huffed, crossing my arms defensively.
“Well, you’re acting drunk. And creepy, too,” he shot back.
“You’re such a joy killer,” I sighed dramatically, rolling my eyes.
“Anyway, why are you back so late?” I asked, turning the attention to him.
“Nothing important. You should go to bed,” he said, evading my eyes.
I narrowed my eyes, suspicion creeping in.
“Did you. did you stay late at the office because of me?” I asked, taking a step closer. “Luna…
“Did you not want to see me?” I pressed quieter this time.
He had hesitated a while before admitting, “I did stay late deliberately, but only because I wanted to give you some space. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
My chest had tightened. “Why do you think you’d make me uncomfortable?” I asked softly.
“Because… I…” He fumbled with the words.
Because of what happened the other night?” I supplied, my heart thudding.
Silence.
“I thought we settled that, Steven. Why would you stay late just to avoid seeing me?” My voice grew sharper, fueled by frustration.
Because every time I see you, my heart breaks!” he suddenly burst out, his voice raw with emotion. “I can’t bear witness to the misery and pain I have brought upon you.”
“What misery? What pain did you cause me?” I shot back.
“I blackmailed and compelled you into this marriage, entailing you with an unhappy life that wasn’t your dream. And as if that was not enough, I broke my promise and forced myself on you again.”
“I told you-I forgave you for that,” I whispered.
“But I haven’t forgiven myself!” he roared. “I cannot forgive myself.”
I took a deep, shaky breath. “Yes, this marriage was forced, Steven, but over time, I found happiness in the little things here. I learned to enjoy your grumpiness, and the bickering of Freya and Freja always makes me laugh. You didn’t sentence me to an unhappy life when you married me.
Just go upstairs, please,” he growled lowly. “Seeing your face makes me feel things I don’t want to feel.”
“What things does my face make you feel?” I pressed, moving a little closer.
Guilt. Pity. Remorse!” he yelled, clenching his fists. “All those feelings make a person weak, and I can’t afford to be weak-not now, not with an enemy at bay. But you… you make me weak!”
“You… you said you’d be nice to me,” I whispered, my heart aching.
“I haven’t threatened to kill you since, so this is me being nice.
“I hate you, Steven! I hate you!” I screamed, tears stinging my eyes.
“Do you guys have any idea what time it is?” Freya’s groggy voice drifted down the stairs.
“It’s midnight, and people are sleeping,” Freja added, trailing behind her sister.
“I hate your brother,” I declared bitterly.
“Is that new? You’ve always hated him,” Freja replied with a shrug.
“Well, now I hate him more!” I snapped.
“What brought on this midnight quarrel between couplets?” Freya asked as she plopped onto the couch.
“Steven is ignoring me,” I grumbled.
“Why would Steven want to ignore you?” Freja asked, cocking her head.
“He’s right there. You could ask him yourself,” I folded my arms in my chest and crossed my legs.
“What happened, little brother?” Freya asked.
“Nothing happened,” he growled.
I sneered. “See that? He doesn’t even want to clear the air!”
“Luna…”
“You forced yourself on me! You took advantage of me, and I’m the one who’s supposed to be angry! So why the hell are you angry with me?!” I yelled.
Okay, this is really personal. Go back to sleep, Freja,” Freya whispered, and the two beat a retreat back upstairs.
Steven blew heavily, running his hand through his hair.
“I told you–I am not angry with you. I’m angry with myself,” he whispered.
“Oh, please,” I huffed.
“I hate myself for hurting you, Luna, and I don’t want to see your face because you make me feel something which I never thought I was capable of,” he suddenly broke off and went down. His chest went in and out rapidly. And what feeling is that? Regret?
“Pity? Or…Affection!” he roared and, like someone exorcising, got himself ready on top, gasping rapidly. “I’ve started loving you!
My heart stopped. My mouth fell open, but no words came out. I stood frozen, staring at him.
“You… you adore me?” I finally whispered, my voice shaking.
“Don’t expect me to explain more,” he muttered, turning to leave. But I grabbed his hand, my heart racing.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered. “What happened between us isn’t your fault. In fact… It’s supposed to be normal for couples. But…”
“But you hated it,” he finished for me.
I shook my head. “I only hated it because I have never enjoyed it. I’ve never had any good memories of… that. I’ve always been forced. But you… you can teach me. You can teach me how to enjoy it.”
“Luna…”
“I’m serious, Steven. Teach me,” I pleaded with wide eyes looking fixedly into his.
“Don’t make me do this again, Luna. I… I find it hard to resist you,” he whispered, his voice taut with tension.
“Then don’t,” I whispered back, placing my hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat beneath my palm. “Don’t resist me, Steven. I want this.”
His breathing grew uneven, harsh, as his gaze darkened with something raw, something primal.
“Are you going to do something, or should I…”
Before I was even finished, he jerked me closer, his lips crashing down onto mine in a desperate urgency. His mouth was warm, his breath hot against my skin. His tongue sought entrance, and I granted it without hesitation, lost in the sensation.
My stomach fluttered wildly, my heart racing as if to claw its way free from my chest, and my knees went weak. I closed my eyes to the tide of overwhelming emotion.
But then-flashes.
Sudden, sharp images flooded my mind, blinding and disorienting. Most made no sense to me, but one stood out-a vision so real it stole the breath from my lungs.
A hand reaches in and rips Steven’s heart out. His body falls to the ground.
Dead.
“Stop!” I shouted, wrenching myself from him, gasping for breath.
Concern filled his eyes. “Are you okay? Did I… did I hurt you?”
I stared hard at him, my eyes blurring with tears.
“I just witnessed your death,” I whispered, my voice shaking in fear.