15. Asher/ Gael #2
His eyes softened. He reached up, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead.
“Because you matter more,” Gael said.
I swallowed hard. The idea that I could leave before things got too complicated, felt like it was crumbling to dust.
GAEL
The rain started as a whisper, a soft pattering against the leaves overhead, barely noticeable as we moved through the dense underbrush.
But the whisper grew louder, building to a relentless drumming that soaked through my clothes and plastered my hair to my forehead.
Mud sucked at our boots, making every step harder.
Asher limped beside me, his jaw clenched tight, refusing to show weakness. His determination, even when he was clearly in pain, made my chest ache.
I wanted to tell him to stop, to rest, but I knew he wouldn’t listen. Not with hunters on our trail.
The wind picked up, whipping the rain sideways. The cold seeped into my bones, a dull ache spreading through me.
I cast a glance at Asher, who was pale and shivering, though he’d never admit it.
His eyes darted around, sharp and wary, but there was exhaustion in every line of his body.
“We need to get out of this storm,” I muttered, barely audible over the roar of the wind.
He didn’t argue. He never did when I was being practical.
We pressed on, our movements cautious and deliberate, staying close to the tree line.
But as we neared the road, my gut twisted. Something wasn’t right.
I froze, catching Asher by the arm to halt him too. He looked at me, confusion in his eyes, but I shook my head.
We peered through the sheets of rain at the road ahead.
A cluster of dark shapes loomed, barely visible. Vehicles. Hunters, no doubt.
They’d set up a roadblock, exactly where we needed to cross. My grip on Asher’s arm tightened.
“Damn it,” he hissed, his voice laced with frustration.
I scanned the area, my mind racing. The forest stretched behind us, dense but not endless. We couldn’t double back forever.
I clenched my teeth, the frustration in me boiling over. We were cornered, trapped like animals.
The rain grew heavier, pounding down in thick sheets.
I squinted through the downpour and spotted a dark silhouette to our left. A structure, barely standing, likely abandoned. Shelter.
“There!” I pointed.
We made a break for it, slipping and sliding through the mud. My muscles screamed with each movement, but I didn’t care.
All that mattered was getting Asher out of the open, away from the hunters.
We stumbled into the shelter. It was barely big enough for the two of us, but it was dry. Or at least, drier than out there.
I closed the metal door behind us. It wouldn’t stop anyone determined to get in, but it was something.
Asher slumped against the back wall, rainwater streaming off him in rivulets.
His hair hung in wet clumps around his face, his eyes shadowed and hollow.
I leaned my forehead against the cold metal of the door, trying to think of our next step.
The storm outside howled, wind rattling the cage. I turned, my eyes landing on Asher.
He was staring at the floor, his shoulders tight.
“You lied to me,” I said, my voice low.
His head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“You heard what I said,” I told him.
He looked away, jaw clenching. That was all the confirmation I needed.
My anger simmered just beneath the surface, but it wasn’t pure rage. It was the same old fear.
Fear that he was slipping away. Fear that despite everything that had happened between us, he would go back to the Guild.
“You talked to Declan,” I accused, my voice trembling with barely controlled frustration.
Asher’s head dropped, his wet hair obscuring his face. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I planned on telling you.”
“When?” I bit out.
He flinched, the movement so slight I almost missed it.
I advanced on him, closing the small distance between us. “What did he say to you?”
He looked up, his eyes dark and haunted.
“He told me staying with you will get me killed. That once the Guild takes down their real target, we’re next,” Asher confessed.
Then he told me about the burner phone Declan had handed him and how he had called Donovan.
Fury swept through me, but the fact remained: Asher hadn’t betrayed me. He stayed.
“And you believed them?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. I mean, yes. I don’t know!”
His voice cracked, the frustration in it mirroring my own.
“I don’t want to believe them, Gael, but—” He broke off, dragging a hand through his wet hair. “It made sense. And for a moment, I nearly… I nearly let their words get to me.”
My heart twisted. The thought of Asher walking away, of leaving me behind, tore at something deep inside me.
I silently counted to ten in my head, trying to steady myself.
“I feel lost as well, Asher,” I told him. “I don’t know where I’m going, what I’m really doing anymore. But you… you’re the one thing that makes sense to me right now.”
His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face before it softened into something else. Something I couldn’t name.
His gaze dropped to the floor, and his shoulders sagged.
“I didn’t want to ruin what was happening between us,” Asher murmured. “I was afraid if I told you, it would all fall apart.”
I reached out, my fingers brushing against his cheek.
He leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. The warmth of his skin against my fingertips sent a shiver through me.
“It’s already falling apart,” I said.
He opened his eyes, and for a long moment, we just stared at each other.
The storm raged around us, the wind howling like a wounded animal, but inside this fragile shelter, there was only us.
I didn’t know who moved first.
Maybe it was him. Maybe it was me. But suddenly, his lips were on mine, hot and desperate, a collision of need and fear.
I tasted rain and salt, the bitterness of our struggles, and the sweetness of him.
I crushed him to me, my hands tangling in his wet hair, pulling him closer.
He responded with equal fervor, his fingers digging into my shoulders as if he was afraid I’d disappear.
The kiss deepened, our mouths clashing, teeth grazing, tongues sliding together.
It was raw, unfiltered emotion pouring out of us, a storm of its own. Then we finally broke apart.
His breath was warm against my lips, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper. Something that made my heart ache.
“I…won’t let anyone’s else opinions influence my own anymore,” he whispered.
I traced the line of his jaw with his fingers. “Good,” I told him.
He pulled me closer, his hands slipping beneath my shirt, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the cold air.
I groaned, loving the way his fingertips set my skin on fire. We lost ourselves in each other, the storm outside forgotten.
Like before, the rest of the world ceased to matter, and I let myself drown.