21. Gael
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
GAEL
SIX MONTHS LATER
The cool mountain air carried a faint scent of pine and rain as I stepped out onto the cabin’s wooden porch.
The town below was quiet this time of night, the glow of lanterns flickering against the shadows of the valley.
It was peaceful in a way I hadn’t known in years, but my thoughts weren’t quiet.
They never were, not with Asher inside, his presence both a comfort and a reminder of everything that had changed between us.
The door creaked open behind me, and I stilled.
I didn’t need to turn around to know it was him; his presence was a hum in my chest, a tether I couldn’t sever even if I wanted to.
“What are you doing out here?” Asher’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was still figuring out how to talk to me without letting his emotions take over.
“Just thinking,” I said, turning to face him.
His dark hair was still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the edges.
He wore one of the plain t-shirts we’d picked up in town, and it clung to his frame in a way that made my chest tighten.
“Dangerous habit,” he muttered, stepping out onto the porch. He leaned against the railing, keeping a careful distance between us.
I gave a small laugh. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a lot to think about these days.”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might retreat back inside. Instead, he surprised me.
“I feel restless,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
I tilted my head, studying him. “Still adjusting?”
“Something like that.” His gaze shifted to the town below. “It’s quieter here. Feels... different. Like I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”
“It’s different because we’re not constantly looking over our shoulders,” I said softly. “No hunters. No Bram. Just us.”
His eyes flicked to mine, searching. “Is that what you want? Just... this?”
After we ended Bram, we moved quickly, ensuring we covered our tracks with precision. We couldn’t afford to leave anything behind that might lead Beric or the Guild to us.
Every detail of our escape was carefully plotted. Every step of our next move, meticulously planned.
Asher made a decision that I knew cost him more than he’d ever admit. He gave up on looking for Finn. He’d also severed all ties with Donovan.
I didn’t push him to talk about it; I could see how much it hurt him. Donovan was the last link to his old life, a piece of himself he’d chosen to leave behind for the sake of survival.
It was a mutual understanding. We needed a clean break, a fresh start, unburdened by the ghosts of what we’d lost.
For my part, I sought help in a way I never thought I would. Trusting a witch was risky under normal circumstances, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
The woman I found wasn’t the friendliest and her price steep, but she was effective. She helped me construct a mental barrier strong enough to keep Beric out of my head.
The process wasn’t easy, hours of focus and rituals that left me drained, but in the end, it worked. At least for now.
I could feel the barrier in my mind, like a wall of iron and smoke, keeping Beric’s influence at bay.
It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t permanent, but it gave me the breathing room I so desperately needed.
Beric, and the rest of the nest, wouldn’t know where I was.
The relief was fleeting. Beric wasn’t the kind of vampire who forgot betrayals, and I knew he’d be relentless in hunting me down.
But for the first time in what felt like years, I had a sliver of hope. A chance to start over, to build something new with Asher.
Whether he’d ever fully forgive me, I didn’t know. But we were here, together, and that was enough for now.
Asher didn’t talk much during those first few weeks after we fled. I caught him staring off into the distance sometimes, his jaw tight, his eyes shadowed.
I didn’t push. He’d lost more than I had. His humanity, his ties to the Guild, his sense of self. All I could do was give him space and time to process it all.
“Gael?” Asher prodded and I remembered he asked me a question.
I hesitated, not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I wasn’t sure how much of it he wanted to hear.
“What I want is for you to feel like yourself again. Or, at least, close to it.”
He huffed a bitter laugh. “Not sure that’s possible, Gael. You turned me into something I never wanted to be. I’m not me anymore. Not really.”
His words stung, but I nodded. “I know. And I’ll never stop being sorry for it. But I couldn’t lose you, Asher. Not like that.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. The silence stretched between us, heavy but not unbearable.
Finally, he turned fully to face me, his expression unreadable. “Do you regret it?”
I swallowed hard. “No. Not for a second. But I regret what it cost you.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and I could see the war raging behind his eyes.
“I hate that I understand why you did it,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “I want to be furious with you. I am furious with you. But there’s this part of me that... gets it. And I hate that part even more.”
“Asher—” I reached out instinctively, but he stepped back, shaking his head.
“Don’t,” he said, though his tone wasn’t harsh. “Not yet.”
I dropped my hand, my chest tightening.
“Okay,” I said quietly. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “I’m not saying I’ll ever forgive you, Gael. But... I don’t hate you. Not anymore.”
Relief washed over me, tentative but real. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “I’ll take that,” I said with a faint smile.
His lips quirked, just barely, and he shook his head. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “But I’m still here. And so are you.”
We decided to head into town, mostly because the cabin felt too small with the weight of everything unsaid between us.
The trail was quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze. Asher walked a step ahead, his shoulders tense, his gaze fixed on the path.
“You don’t have to keep your distance, you know,” I said, breaking the silence.
He glanced back at me, his expression guarded. “I’m not.”
“You are,” I said gently. “And it’s okay. I just... I miss you. The real you.”
He stopped walking, turning to face me. His eyes, sharp and bright even in the dim light, pinned me in place. “The real me is gone, Gael. You killed him when you turned me.”
The words were a knife to my chest, but I nodded. “Maybe. But I like to think he’s still in there somewhere. That’s the part of you I’m fighting for.”
His jaw worked, and for a moment, I thought he might say something cutting, but then he sighed. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not on you,” I said without hesitation.
Something flickered in his expression, an emotion I couldn’t quite place, but he didn’t respond.
Instead, he started walking again, and I followed, giving him the space he needed.
The town square was quieter than usual, the faint sound of a guitar drifting from a nearby cantina.
We found an outdoor café lit by strings of soft yellow lights, and Asher surprised me by sitting across from me at one of the small tables.
“You’re actually staying,” I teased lightly, trying to ease the tension.
“Don’t push your luck,” he muttered, but there was no bite to his words.
We ordered drinks, more for appearances than anything else, and I watched as he toyed with the glass in front of him, his fingers tracing the rim absently.
“Do you ever think about what life would’ve been like if none of this had happened?” he asked suddenly, his voice low.
“All the time,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t change where we are now.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze distant. “I think... I think I could’ve been happy. If things had been different.”
“You still can be,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the walls he kept so carefully constructed seemed to crack. “I don’t know how,” he said honestly.
“I’ll help you figure it out,” I promised.
He didn’t respond, but he didn’t look away either. And in that silence, I saw the smallest glimmer of hope.
By the time we made it back to the cabin, the moon was high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the trees.
Asher lingered on the porch, his hand resting on the railing as he looked out over the valley.
“Gael?” he said after a long pause.
“Yeah?” I stepped up beside him, careful not to crowd him.
He turned to face me, his expression open in a way I hadn’t seen in weeks.
“I’m still angry. I don’t know when, or if that’ll change. But... I’m glad you’re here,” Asher said.
The knot in my chest loosened, and I nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. A real, genuine smile. It was small, but it was there, and it felt like the first step toward something better.
“Good,” he said simply, turning back to the view.
I stayed beside him, the silence between us no longer heavy but comforting.
It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but for the first time, it felt like we were moving forward. Together.