8. Asher
CHAPTER EIGHT
ASHER
Gael slammed the door shut behind us, wedging a broken piece of wood against it to serve as a makeshift brace.
My breath came in short, shallow bursts, each one dragging against my ribs.
The adrenaline from our narrow escape was wearing off, leaving behind a wave of exhaustion and the relentless throb in my injured leg.
Gael’s silhouette was a blur in the dim light filtering through the broken boards of the windows. He didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Just stood there, his back to me, as if the tension coiled in his body might snap and tear the world apart if he so much as twitched.
The silence stretched, heavy and fragile, like a glass ready to shatter. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Well, that was fun,” I muttered, my voice raw and strained.
Gael’s shoulders twitched, a barely perceptible reaction that told me he’d heard me loud and clear.
He turned, his movements deliberate. His eyes as cold as ever, unreadable in a way that frustrated me more than I cared to admit.
“Fun isn’t the word I’d use,” he said dryly, his gaze dropping to my injured leg.
Before I could respond, Gael crouched in front of me, his movements quick and precise.
His fingers brushed against my calf, and I flinched at the contact, a sharp wince escaping before I could bite it back.
“Easy,” he murmured.
His touch was cold, like I expected, but there was a gentleness to it that completely threw me off balance.
How someone who could tear through a group of hunters without breaking a sweat could be so careful now was beyond me.
“Let me see it,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off, to pull away and put some distance between us.
Instead, I hesitated, my pride battling against the logic that screamed I needed help.
Finally, I relented, shifting awkwardly to give him a better view.
“It’s not that bad,” I muttered, though the sharp stab of pain that followed betrayed me.
Gael raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, his focus entirely on my leg as he rolled up the torn fabric of my pants.
The makeshift bandage he’d slapped on earlier was soaked through, the edges crusted with dried blood. His jaw tightened.
“This isn’t ‘not that bad,’ Asher,” he said, his voice low, clipped.
I shrugged, trying to brush it off. “Been through worse.”
“That’s not the point,” he shot back, his dark eyes snapping up to meet mine.
For a moment, the air between us felt charged, heavier than it had any right to be.
Then, just as quickly, he looked away, his hands moving to carefully peel back the bandage.
I sucked in a sharp breath as the fabric tugged at the wound, and his gaze darted back to me, a flicker of concern crossing his face.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
The apology caught me off guard. “Didn’t think vampires did sorry,” I quipped, trying to lighten the mood.
Gael’s lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite know how. “We don’t. Consider yourself special.”
For a second, the tension eased, replaced by something... different. Not quite comfortable, but not entirely unpleasant either.
Gael worked in silence after that, his hands steady as he cleaned and inspected the wound.
“You should’ve left me back there,” I said, the bitterness in my voice surprising even me. “I was dead weight.”
Gael’s laugh was short and humorless.
“You think I’d let you get caught just because you’re slower than usual?” Gael asked.
I opened my eyes and found him staring at me, his expression unreadable. For once, there wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in his voice.
No mockery. Just a flat honesty that made my chest feel tight.
“Why?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
His gaze flicked away, his jaw clenching. He busied himself with retying the bandage, his fingers deft, movements controlled.
“Because… maybe I didn’t want to see you die at all,” Gael admitted.
My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard.
“I don’t even know why I’m still here,” I whispered.
I continued, “Finn made it clear he wants nothing to do with me or with our family. I keep holding on, clinging to something that’s already shattered. Maybe it’s always been broken. And every time I try to fix it, I just end up making a bigger mess.”
The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, a confession I hadn’t even been willing to admit to myself.
Gael’s eyes flickered, his expression carefully guarded.
“The things we do for family, huh?” he said softly.
There was something hollow in his tone, a bitterness that went beyond the surface.
When he said family, I wondered if he was talking about his nest. Silence settled between us, thick and unrelenting.
The walls felt like they were closing in, trapping us in this moment, in the wreckage of our choices.
I glanced at Gael, studying the hard lines of his face, the shadows that clung to the edges of his eyes.
What had changed for him? What had blurred the lines in his world, made everything feel uncertain and distorted?
“What happened to you?” I found myself asking, the words escaping before I could stop them. “I mean… with Beric.”
Gael’s jaw tightened, the muscles twitching as if he was fighting to keep the words locked inside.
For a moment, I thought he’d ignore the question, brush it off with one of his usual snide remarks.
But then his shoulders slumped, just a fraction, and the fight seemed to drain out of him.
“There was a time I thought Beric saved me,” Gael said quietly. “Gave me purpose, a reason to exist. I was his favorite, his right hand. Everything he wanted, I delivered. But loyalty to someone like Beric doesn’t go both ways.”
His jaw tightened, and a flash of something painful crossed his face. “When Gabriel showed up, everything changed. I went from trusted to expendable in the blink of an eye.”
I didn’t know what to say. The bitterness in his voice mirrored something deep inside me, a hollow ache I knew too well.
Betrayal. Disillusionment. The realization that everything you believed in was a lie.
“And now?” I asked gently. “What do you believe in now?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure that out. But every time I think I’m close, everything shifts again. It’s like standing on quicksand.”
I nodded, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah. I know that feeling.”
Our eyes met, and something unspoken passed between us. A thread of understanding, fragile but real.
We were both lost in our own ways, both trying to hold onto something solid while the ground kept crumbling beneath our feet.
Without thinking, I reached out, my fingers brushing against his hand.
His skin was cool, a stark contrast to the warmth seeping from my own. He didn’t pull away.
Instead, his fingers curled around mine, hesitant at first, then stronger.
The contact sent a jolt through me, a spark of connection that felt dangerously real.
“The things we do for family,” I echoed, my voice barely a whisper. “Maybe we’re not really doing it for them. Maybe we’re just trying to prove to ourselves that we’re not as broken as we feel.”
Gael’s lips curled into a ghost of a smile. “Maybe.”
Gael let go of my hand. He reached out, his fingers brushing a lock of hair from my forehead.
The touch was fleeting, hesitant, but it left a trail of fire in its wake.
I swallowed hard, my pulse thudding in my ears. For the first time, I didn’t see Gael as an enemy, a monster, or an obstacle.
I saw him for what he was, broken and lost, just like me.
His fingers lingered near my temple, and I leaned into the touch before I could stop myself.
His eyes darkened, and something shifted in the air between us. The tension coiled tighter, electric and undeniable.
“Gael…” I whispered, but I didn’t know what I was asking for.
His gaze dropped to my lips. My breath hitched. Then, slowly, achingly slowly, he leaned in.
Our lips met, the kiss tentative at first, a question more than a statement.
His mouth was cool, but his touch was anything but. Heat flared, spreading through me, searing away doubt and hesitation.
I reached up, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
He responded with a quiet sound, something almost vulnerable, and the kiss deepened.
His body pressed against mine, the weight of him grounding me.
For a few heartbeats, there was nothing but us. No hunters, no betrayals.
Just the quiet desperation of two people who had nothing left to lose.
When we finally pulled apart, the world around us seemed to snap back into focus, the silence of the room suddenly deafening.
My chest heaved with every breath, and my pulse pounded in my ears like a war drum.
I should really stop kissing him. Or wanting to kiss him.
It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t smart.
Gael was a vampire, for crying out loud. He wasn’t just dangerous. He was the kind of dangerous I’d been trained to eliminate on sight.
The kind I used to swear I’d never trust, let alone let get close.
And yet, here I was, breaking every rule, every vow, with every stolen moment like this.
My gaze dropped to his mouth, and I immediately hated myself for it.
My skin still tingled where his hands had gripped me, and the taste of him lingered on my lips, a dark and addictive pull that made me want more.
That made me forget, however briefly, who I was supposed to be and what I was supposed to stand for.
“This is insane,” I muttered, mostly to myself. My voice came out low and hoarse, like I’d just run a marathon.
Gael’s brow arched, his lips curving into the faintest smirk. “I didn’t hear you complaining a second ago.”
My face flushed, and I scowled at him, though it lacked any real heat. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point, Asher?” His tone wasn’t mocking, but there was an edge to it, like he was challenging me to come up with an answer.
To explain something I didn’t even fully understand myself.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, because honestly? I didn’t have a good answer. The point was that this was wrong.
Or at least, it should have been.
The point was that I shouldn’t be kissing the vampire who turned me into something I still didn’t fully understand.
The point was that this thing between us, whatever it was, felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of knives, and yet I couldn’t seem to stop balancing on the edge.
“I just... we should stop doing this,” I said.
Gael studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he took a small step back, giving me space.
The absence of his warmth made the room feel colder somehow, emptier. “If that’s what you want.”
I hated the way my chest tightened at those words, like he was walking away from more than just a kiss.
Like I’d pushed him away and wasn’t sure if I could pull him back.
“It’s not that simple,” I said, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “You... you make everything so damn complicated.”
His smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re not exactly a walk in the park either.”
Despite myself, a small laugh escaped, shaky and unsteady but real. “Fair enough.”
For a moment, we just looked at each other.
I wanted to tell him everything. How much he infuriated me, confused me, made me question everything I thought I knew about myself.
But I also wanted to tell him that he’d become the one constant in a world that felt like it was falling apart.
That somehow, against all odds, he was the only thing that made any of this bearable.
Instead, I just said, “I don’t hate you, you know. Even when I want to.”
Gael’s gaze softened, and he took a step closer, not closing the distance entirely but enough that I could feel the pull between us again, magnetic and undeniable.
“That’s a start,” he said quietly.
His voice was so steady, so calm, it made my chest ache.
I didn’t know how he managed it. How he could look at me like I wasn’t a complete disaster.
Like I hadn’t spent the past few months hating him for something I was beginning to realize I might never fully understand.
I wanted to say more, to explain myself, but the words caught in my throat and refused to come out.
“We should get some rest,” Gael said.
“Someone has to keep watch,” I replied. “I’ll catch sleep in small bursts.”
Gael settled near the door, his posture relaxed but alert. I couldn’t help but frown. It was a risky spot to rest.
What if someone opened the door and sunlight streamed in?
The thought of him being caught off guard sent a pang of unease through me.
As if he’d read my mind, he murmured, “Don’t worry, hunter. I’ll wake if something happens. If someone bursts through the door.”
His confidence was maddening, but I didn’t argue. Instead, I leaned back and let the weight of the day drag me under.
Somehow, against all odds, sleep claimed us both.
By some miracle, the fragile peace held, and we were left untouched when the sun dipped below the horizon once more.
But the reprieve was short-lived. A distant shout cut through the stillness, sharp and unmistakable.
Hunters. The threat was still out there, relentless and closing in.
Gael jerked awake, his eyes snapping open like a predator sensing danger.
I followed suit, the haze of sleep dissolving as adrenaline flooded my veins. Reality crashed back in, cold and unrelenting.
“Let’s go,” he said.
I nodded, pushing myself to my feet with a grunt of pain.
The wound in my leg throbbed, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it. Survival came first. We exited the shop.
As we slipped back into the shadows, Gael stayed close, his presence a steady anchor against the encroaching fear.
I didn’t know what we were to each other, enemies, allies or something more. For now, it didn’t matter.