17. Gael
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
GAEL
The shelter came into view, its silhouette faint in the moonlight. Relief eased the knot in my chest, but only slightly.
The windows were dark, and no sound came from within. Good. That meant no uninvited visitors.
Still, I picked up my pace, eager to see Asher.
But as I approached, something tugged at the edge of my awareness. A shadow in the back of my mind, a feeling I couldn’t quite place.
I shook it off. I was imagining things. Asher was fine. He had to be.
Wouldn’t he?
And then I heard it. A muffled sound, barely audible through the dampened air, like a struggle. A gasp cut short.
The kind of sound that made my blood turn to ice.
I didn’t think. I just ran. As I neared the shelter, my heart lodged itself in my throat.
The door was hanging open, swinging limply on rusted hinges. Inside, the air was thick with the copper tang of blood.
My vision narrowed to a pinpoint as I took in the scene.
Asher was on the ground, one hand pressed to his side, crimson seeping through his fingers. His face was pale, eyes glazed with pain. His knife lay on the ground.
Standing over him, like a damn specter, was Bram. Rage ignited in my chest, a firestorm that obliterated everything else.
“Bram!” My voice was an almost animalistic snarl.
He straightened, turning to face me with infuriating calm. His eyes, cold and assessing, flicked to Asher, then back to me.
“This is for your own good, Gael,” Bram said.
I didn’t answer. Words were useless now. I launched myself at him, fangs bared. Bram met me head-on, our bodies colliding with bone-jarring force.
His hand shot out, fingers curling around my throat, but I twisted free, slashing at his side. He dodged, my clenched fists punching through empty air.
“My own good?” I hissed out.
“You’ve lost your way,” he sneered, ducking beneath my next strike. “All because of him.”
I roared, fury making my movements reckless.
I swung again, and this time my punch connected with his abdomen, but he barely flinched.
“You think this is love?” he spat, eyes flashing with disdain. “You’re a fool, Gael.”
Love? Not exactly, but I wanted the chance to find out.
Bram drove his fist into my stomach. I stumbled back.
Pain radiated through my torso, but it was nothing compared to the agony of seeing Asher on the floor, his blood pooling around him.
Bram advanced, his expression cold.
“I’m doing this for our nest. You’ll thank me when your head is clear,” he said.
I saw his intent a second too late. He shifted toward Asher, pulling out a knife. Panic surged through me, white-hot and blinding.
“No!”
I lunged, grabbing Bram by the shoulders and yanking him back.
We crashed to the floor, rolling through the grime and splintered wood. I pinned him down, my fingers around his throat.
His eyes met mine, and for a second, something flickered there. Regret, maybe. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by cold resolve.
“You can’t save him, Gael,” he rasped. “You’re only delaying the inevitable.”
“Shut up!” My voice cracked, raw with desperation.
My grip trembled. I wanted to tear him apart, to rip his throat out and bathe in his betrayal. But Bram had been my brother once, my ally.
If I killed him, Beric would only send someone else.
A weak sound drew my attention. Asher.
He was trying to push himself up, his face twisted in pain, blood smeared across his pale skin. His eyes met mine, wide and terrified.
“Gael…” His voice was a whisper, barely there.
The rage drained out of me, leaving a hollow ache in its place. I released Bram, shoving him away. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes narrowing.
“I’ll leave for now,” he said, voice low and hard. “When he dies, you’ll return to your senses and thank me.”
I didn’t watch him leave. My world had narrowed to Asher.
I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands shaking as I cradled his face. His skin was cold, too cold.
“Asher, stay with me,” I begged, my voice breaking. “Please.”
He managed a weak smile, his eyes fluttering. “You’re… so loud.”
A choked laugh escaped me, but it tasted of salt and sorrow. “You have to keep being annoyed with me, okay? I need you to stay here.”
His eyes started to close, his body going limp.
“No, no, no.” Panic clawed at my chest. I pressed my forehead to his, my tears mingling with the blood on his skin. “Don’t you dare leave me.”
I couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not when he’d become the only thing that mattered.
Desperation settled in my bones, cold and undeniable. Every second that passed felt like a countdown to the end of something I couldn’t bear to lose.
I could feel his heartbeat weakening under my hands, each sluggish beat a reminder that time was slipping away.
His skin, so warm before, was growing colder. His breaths were shallow, a faint whisper of life barely hanging on.
I looked down at him, my chest tightening. Blood soaked his clothes, staining my hands, sticky and warm.
His face was too pale, his lips parted as if he were trying to say something, but the words wouldn't come.
I brushed a trembling hand over his hair, my fingers lingering on his temple. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Not when we had barely begun.
There was only one way to save him now.
The realization was a blade to my gut. My hands shook as I tilted his head gently, exposing the smooth column of his neck.
The steady line of his pulse beneath the skin was faint, fluttering like a fragile thing, ready to disappear forever.
My fangs ached, an instinctual pull that made bile rise in my throat. This wasn’t just survival; it was surrender.
Turning him into what I was would steal away his humanity, bind him to a fate that had cost me everything.
I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting against the storm of emotions that threatened to break me apart.
The thought of taking his life, of sinking my teeth into him and forcing the darkness I carried into his veins, made me sick. I didn’t want this for him.
I didn’t want him to know the hunger, the isolation, the eternal twilight that came with this cursed existence.
But letting him die wasn’t an option.
I opened my eyes, staring at the man who had somehow become everything to me.
The man who had made me feel alive when I thought I was beyond redemption.
His lashes fluttered slightly, a flicker of awareness, and his lips moved soundlessly.
I leaned closer, desperate to catch his words, but there was nothing. Just the shallow rise and fall of his chest, growing fainter.
I can’t lose you.
The thought screamed through my mind, louder than the pounding of my heart. I leaned in, my mouth hovering just above his neck.
My fangs scraped against my lower lip, the sharpness cutting through the haze of fear and grief.
The scent of his blood filled my senses, warm and metallic, a reminder that he was still here, still alive, if only barely.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I can’t let you go.”
My jaw clenched as I fought against every instinct that told me this was wrong. But love and desperation outweighed my guilt.
I couldn’t let him slip away into the void. Not when I could pull him back, even if it meant dragging him into the darkness with me.
I pressed my lips to his neck, a trembling kiss before I opened my mouth and sank my fangs in.
His blood rushed over my tongue, hot and potent, carrying with it all his memories, his fears, his strength.
He tasted like life, wild and defiant, and it shattered something inside me.
I drank just enough to weaken the ties to his mortal shell, just enough to bring him to the edge of death’s abyss.
My heart hammered in my chest, terror and hope colliding violently. I pulled back, my lips stained with his blood, and bit into my own wrist.
The pain barely registered as I held my wrist to his mouth.
“Please, Asher,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Take it. Come back to me.”
His lips were cool and still, and for a horrifying moment, I thought I was too late. Panic clawed at me, an animalistic fear I couldn’t contain.
But then, a flicker of movement. A reflex, maybe, or a miracle. His lips parted slightly, and I pressed my wrist to them more firmly.
A few drops of my blood slipped past his lips, and I waited, every muscle in my body taut with dread.
Nothing happened. The world seemed to tilt, the weight of failure crushing me.
But then his throat moved. A faint swallow, so slight I almost missed it.
His body shuddered beneath my hands, and I clutched him tighter, tears blurring my vision.
“That’s it,” I choked out. “Come back to me.”
A ripple of energy passed between us, a tether pulling him from the brink. His eyes snapped open, wide and filled with confusion.
They weren’t the same shade of hazel anymore. There was a hint of something darker, something eternal.
“Asher,” I whispered, my relief so intense it hurt.
He blinked, his gaze finding mine, and for one heart-stopping moment, he was just Asher. My stubborn and beautiful Asher.
Then his eyes fluttered closed again. He was still alive, at least, alive the way I was.
Relief crashed through me, leaving me shaking. I gathered him into my arms, holding him like he was the only real thing left in this world. Because he was.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice raw and trembling.
I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling. I was horrified by what I’d done, yet desperately relieved that Asher was still here, still with me.
“I should’ve let you go, but I couldn’t.”