4. Asher/ Gael
CHAPTER FOUR
ASHER/ GAEL
ASHER
The pale morning light filtered through the warehouse’s broken windows, casting long, jagged shadows across the cracked concrete floor.
Dust motes floated lazily through the air, and the only sound was my own breathing, which was slow, steady and forced.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to banish the stiffness that had settled in while I slept.
I hadn’t planned to fall asleep. Certainly not next to him .
I turned my head, gaze falling on Gael’s still body.
His skin was alabaster pale, almost translucent in the weak light, his dark hair splayed around him like a silken halo.
Without breath, without motion, he looked like a corpse. A beautiful, haunting one.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was truly dead. Maybe part of me wished he was.
My hand drifted toward the knife at my belt, the familiar weight grounding me. It would be so easy. One clean strike.
Just slip the blade between his ribs, pierce his heart, and it would be over. He wouldn’t even feel it.
I’d be free of this mess, free to continue my search for Finn.
The Guild would welcome me back if I delivered Gael’s lifeless body.
Maybe not with open arms, but with a reluctant acceptance that I was still one of them.
After what happened with Finn, I needed to prove I wasn’t a traitor, that I hadn’t completely lost my edge.
And yet…
I hesitated, the knife’s hilt warm in my grip. Gael’s face was peaceful, his sharp features softened in sleep.
He looked... vulnerable.
Defenseless. The word curdled in my gut. Ending someone who couldn’t fight back? It shouldn’t bother me. It never had before.
The Guild taught us to strike when the odds were in our favor, to survive by any means necessary.
I’d done things in the name of the Guild that would haunt me for the rest of my life. But this... this felt wrong.
Why him?
Disgust twisted through me. My fingers tightened around the knife, the leather-wrapped hilt biting into my palm.
Just do it, Asher. End this.
But the blade didn’t move. My muscles refused to obey, locked in some invisible struggle I didn’t understand.
I stared at Gael, the whisper of his name in the back of my mind like a ghost’s sigh.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, voice barely more than a rasp.
I shoved the knife back into its sheath and pushed to my feet, my knees stiff from the cold, unforgiving floor.
Gael didn’t stir. He remained in that eerie, motionless state, trapped somewhere between death and sleep.
I turned away, forcing down the tangle of frustration and confusion.
I needed to clear my head, assess the situation outside, and decide what the hell to do next.
Creeping to the warehouse door, I slipped out into the biting morning air.
The town was quiet, the streets barely stirring to life.
I stuck to the shadows, every step calculated, my gaze sweeping for signs of danger.
The adrenaline thrumming through me sharpened my senses, dulled the ache of exhaustion that clawed at my edges.
I made my way toward the main street, taking the long way around, doubling back a few times to cover my tracks.
My boots made no sound on the cracked pavement, years of practice keeping me silent.
The local pub came into view, a dim glow spilling out through the windows.
I slid up alongside the building, pressing my back against the rough brick.
Voices drifted through the open window. Two men, their tones low and disgruntled. I closed my eyes, focusing on their words.
“...can’t believe Declan left us here,” one of them grumbled.
“Yeah. Waste of time,” the other agreed, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Asher’s long gone. Took that damn vampire with him.”
A sick twist of guilt coiled in my gut.
“Declan thinks Asher betrayed us.” The first hunter’s voice was bitter. “After everything he did for the Guild... Hell, I looked up to him. Thought he was one of the best.”
I felt the words like a punch to the gut. Betrayal . That was what they thought of me now. Maybe they weren’t wrong.
Maybe I’d lost my way the moment I hesitated to kill Gael. The moment I put him before the mission to find Finn.
I clenched my jaw, forcing down the surge of emotion. I couldn’t afford to think about this now.
Turning away from the window, I slipped back into the shadows, the hunters’ voices fading behind me.
My feet carried me toward the train station. The hollow ache in my chest deepened with every step. I was wasting time here.
Finn’s trail was growing colder, and I couldn’t let my brother slip further away.
The station was nearly empty. A few travelers loitered near the tracks, their faces drawn and distant.
I approached the ticket booth, my gaze flicking to the destinations posted above.
East, west, north. Every direction held the same promise of escape.
The ticket agent, a woman with tired eyes and a weary smile, looked up. “Where to?”
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. Anywhere, I wanted to say. Just away from here. Away from this mess.
I slid a fake ID across the counter.
“One ticket,” I muttered, barely meeting her gaze. “Doesn’t matter where.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions.
She handed me a ticket, and I nodded my thanks, the paper trembling slightly between my fingers.
I made my way to the platform, the distant rumble of an approaching train vibrating beneath my feet.
I should have felt relief. This was what I needed. To move forward, to keep going, to find Finn. But all I felt was emptiness.
Like I was leaving something behind that I couldn’t quite name.
Gael.
The thought slid into my mind unbidden. I pictured him lying there, helpless, the cold warehouse swallowing him whole.
What if those hunters decided to check the place out again? They’d find him defenseless. To them, he’d be nothing but easy prey.
A wave of nausea rolled through me. I tried to shove the thought away, but it dug in, relentless and sharp.
You can’t leave him.
I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. This was insane. Gael was a vampire. He wasn’t my responsibility.
He wasn’t supposed to be anything to me.
But the image of his lifeless form wouldn’t leave me. I could almost feel the weight of the knife in my hand again, the choice I hadn’t made.
The choice I couldn’t make.
The train’s whistle screamed in the distance. The ground vibrated harder. I took a step forward, then stopped, my body frozen in place.
I closed my eyes, inhaling sharply.
Damn it all.
I turned on my heel and sprinted off the platform, the ticket fluttering from my fingers, forgotten.
My boots pounded the pavement as I raced back through the town, every instinct screaming that I was making a mistake.
But I couldn’t stop.
I didn’t stop until the warehouse loomed ahead, dark and foreboding. My chest heaved, sweat trickling down my back.
I shoved the door open, the hinges creaking in protest.
Gael was still there, still motionless. The same as I left him.
I leaned against the doorframe, my breath ragged, my heart a chaotic drumbeat in my chest.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I whispered.
But deep down, I already knew the answer.
GAEL
The darkness swelled around me, a velvet tide of nothingness. I tried to open my eyes, but my limbs were leaden, my senses dulled.
A familiar chill prickled along my spine, one I knew all too well. I wasn’t awake. Not really.
I was trapped in a dream, but not one of my own making.
The shadows shifted, coalescing into a figure I’d known for centuries.
He emerged from the darkness, ageless and immaculate. Eyes like pools of garnet, glinting with cruel knowledge.
Beric didn’t have to say anything for me to feel the weight of his judgment, pressing down on me like a collar I couldn’t tear off.
I braced for it, for the lash of his voice or the strike of his hand. My failures bloomed like bruises across my mind.
Not once, but twice, I’d let him down.
Gabriel’s face swam in the darkness, a bitter reminder.
But instead of punishment, Beric’s fingers brushed my cheek, a featherlight touch that burned like acid. I froze.
The cool touch of his palm, so deceptively tender, coiled around my guilt and squeezed.
“Gael.” His voice was silk wrapped around a blade. “What’s really going on with you?”
The words pierced me, threading through the cracks I didn’t know were there.
I swallowed hard, the phantom heat of his touch searing into my skin.
“I’m scared,” I whispered, the words scraping raw on the way out. “That I would fail you again.”
The confession sat between us, heavier than the darkness itself.
His thumb traced the edge of my jaw, the gesture almost… affectionate.
My gut twisted. Affection was just another weapon in his arsenal.
“Do you think I want to lose you?” Beric’s voice dipped, softening in a way that made my teeth clench. “We have history, Gael. I don’t want you to stray from me.”
The weight of that history, those centuries of loyalty and servitude, pressed on my chest.
I’d once thought it was a bond unbreakable. Now, it felt like a chain.
“I won’t,” I promised, the lie curling bitter on my tongue. “I’ll return to the nest. With Gabriel. Dead or alive.”
Beric’s eyes flickered, satisfaction simmering beneath the surface. “Good.”
The shadows surged, swallowing his form, but the burn of his touch lingered long after he faded.
I jolted awake, my body snapping upright as if a wire had been cut.
The cold concrete floor beneath me bit through my clothes, grounding me back in reality.
I counted silently to ten in my head, forcing myself to calm down.
Beric was in my head. He saw me. Felt me. Almost unraveled me.
My hands shook as I raked them through my hair. But that wasn’t what terrified me the most. No, what gnawed at my insides was that I’d held something back.
I’d hidden Asher from Beric, deliberately severing the connection I’d once kept open without question.
What the hell was I doing?
My eyes darted around, mind scrambling to catch up. The grimy warehouse walls closed in, graffiti smudged by time and neglect.
Weak light seeped through broken windows, casting everything in sickly gray.
I shouldn’t have slept. Shouldn’t have let my guard down. Not here. Not now. I should be dead.
Why aren’t I dead?
A shadow moved to my left. Narrowing my eyes, I twisted my body, ready to lunge, but it was Asher. He paced near the entrance, the faint light illuminating his silhouette.
His broad shoulders were tense, muscles coiled beneath his jacket.
His fingers brushed absently against the hilt of his knife, the motion almost comforting. Protective.
Was he patrolling? Watching over me while I slept?
No. That couldn’t be right. My mind rebelled against the idea, but there he was, alive and restless, his gaze flicking to me, then away.
I should have been ashes by now. A blade through the heart, a head separated from my neck. Yet I was still here, unscathed.
Why hadn’t he left? Why was I still alive?
I pushed myself up, limbs stiff, a smirk tugging at my lips to hide the storm behind my eyes.
“So, what’s the deal, hunter? Decide I’m not worth the effort to kill?” I teased.
He stopped pacing, turning to face me. The way his jaw tightened, the flare of his nostrils, I could almost taste his frustration.
“Don’t tempt me.” His voice was a low growl.
“Oh, I think I do more than tempt you.” The words slipped out, sharp and smooth, but they hit something raw in the air between us.
His eyes narrowed, the blue burning hotter than before.
I took a step closer. He didn’t move back. The space between us felt charged, a taut wire pulled to its breaking point.
“Why didn’t you finish me off, Asher?” I asked, voice softening, sinking into something more dangerous. “You had your chance.”
His fingers clenched around the knife hilt. “Maybe I didn’t want to kill you in your sleep.”
“A noble excuse,” I murmured. “But I think you’re lying.”
I closed the distance between us, each step slow, deliberate. He was breathing harder now, his chest rising and falling.
His scent, sweat, leather, and something undeniably him, curled into my lungs, intoxicating and infuriating.
I leaned in, my voice a whisper against his ear. “You were watching me, weren’t you?”
His jaw worked, his teeth grinding together. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Too late.”
I pulled back just enough to see his eyes.
The anger was still there, but beneath it, something else smoldered. Something that matched the fire in my own veins.
This is stupid. Dangerous.
But neither of us stepped away.
My gaze dipped to his mouth. Full lips, pulled into a tight, defiant line. The kind of mouth that begged to be kissed, bitten, ruined.
And then his hand shot out, grabbing my shirt, pulling me closer.
The shock of contact sent a jolt through me, white-hot and reckless.
“If I kiss you,” he muttered, breath ragged, “it doesn’t change anything.”
My smile curled, predatory. “Then don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
His mouth crashed into mine, all teeth and heat and fury. I met him head-on, the force of it sparking through every nerve.
His fingers twisted in my shirt, pulling me closer, as if he wanted to consume me.
My hands found his waist, slid up his back, feeling the tension coiled there, ready to snap.
The kiss was brutal, a clash of wills, but under the violence, the heat simmered, threatening to boil over.
His lips softened, just for a second, and a low sound escaped me, betraying more than I wanted it to.
I hated him.
I wanted him.
When we finally pulled apart, Asher was breathing hard, our foreheads still touching.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” he whispered, but his grip on me didn’t loosen.
“Liar,” I told him.
And for once, he didn’t argue.