~Chapter 20~
Asher pov:
After taking a shower, I feel the atmosphere is a bit strange, and Niko seems suspicious.
“Darling, are you okay?” I ask, looking at him.
“Yeah,” he says, smiling.
I don’t entirely believe him, but that woman needs to call me in no more than 15 minutes.
The room is dark. Streetlight breaks into stripes on the floor, and the sun is only now rising fully.
Niko is in bed with me, staring at his phone, arm across me, heavy, warm. His breathing steady.
It’s the kind of true quiet, not empty.
The phone vibrates.
I don’t bother to pick it up slowly. Niko doesn’t notice.
It’s Elara. Video call.
I answer without a second thought.
She appears clearly, elegant, shoulders straight, hair tied back.
No smile. She has no reason to.
“You’ve made the choice,” she says.
She doesn’t ask. She confirms.
“Does it matter?” I ask.
“Maybe yes, maybe no,” Elara says, leaning back.
Simple tone, but not gentle.
Evaluation, not concern.
I lift my chin slightly.
“Sure.”
She closes her eyes for a second. Acceptance.
“Niko belongs to you,” she says. “And you belong to him. The bond is already formed. You don’t need words to confirm it.”
I glance at him.
I cannot contest it. I don’t want to.
Elara continues:
“These bonds aren’t made for fun. They are rare. Serious. An Alpha doesn’t change partners like clothes. You are not the one to leave. You are the one people stay around.”
I almost smile. Not for pride. For truth.
But I feel the shift in the rhythm of the conversation.
She’s preparing to enter the real subject.
“Tell me about Cassian,” I say before she does.
She raises an eyebrow. Small, but surprised.
“You noticed.”
“There’s nothing around me I don’t notice,” I say.
She tilts her head.
“Then I don’t need to explain what’s happening. Just what will come.”
She sits straighter.
This means we’re entering important territory.
“Cassian is broken,” she says. “Not hurt. Broken. And not by his fault. By tradition. By upbringing. By Obsidian.”
That name carries weight.
Obsidian.
A family of fights, blood, and unshakable oaths.
A house where everything is duty.
Everything is control.
I’m not letting him find out.
I do not react visibly.
I know what it means to show no response.
“Cassian grew up with the lesson: ‘love is a path to defeat.’ He was taught to kill his own instinct. His face belongs to him. His heart does not. His mind is confined to the oath.” Her voice becomes precise, surgical.
“You and Niko, I hope you destabilize him, or you’ll make my boy well. ”
I swipe my tongue over the corner of my mouth.
This isn’t tragedy.
This is positioning.
“We don’t apologize for existing,” I say calmly.
Elara: “No. And you don’t have to. But what you’ve triggered will move Obsidian.
They will feel the change. They will see hesitation. And they will try to correct it.”
“Correct” in Obsidian language doesn’t mean discussion.
It means pressure. Forced silence. Ruptures.
“How much time do we have?” I ask.
She looks me directly in the eyes.
Finally.
“No time,” she says. “Depends on how long Cassian can hold without completely breaking. His body gives signs.”
Ah. That.
Something I felt without saying.
“You saw too,” she continues. “The breathing. The fatigue. The wandering gaze. It’s not just guilt. It’s lack of air. He’s suffocating under loyalties.”
I place my fingers on Niko’s collarbone, slowly.
Not as a calming gesture.
As an anchor.
“And you’ve distanced yourself from him,” I say.
She doesn’t blink.
“I had to,” she answers.
“I cannot break the bond for him. It’s his choice to come to you or surrender back.
”
“You three are not a coincidence, Ash,” she continues.
“You’ve sensed each other too long. You recognize each other.
Even when you avoid each other.”
Yes.
I knew that without hearing it.
“Tell me clearly,” I say.
“What do you want from me?”
Finally, a small smile.
Not sweet.
Satisfied. Recognizing strength.
“Stand firm,” she says. “Don’t lower your voice.
Don’t seek him. Don’t ask. Don’t pull. If you approach him, he flees.
If you turn away, he falls.”
I understand.
“And when he falls?” I ask.
“Then you lift him,” she says, with deep calm.
“But only then.”
A pause falls.
The air becomes dense, but not heavy.
“You’ll be a good Alpha's with Niko , Ash,” she says softly.
“Not because you and him dominate. But because you know when you don’t need to And Niko for his conscience”
I look back at the screen.
“I don’t lose people,” I say.
“No,” Elara says, closing the conference. “You make them return.”
Black screen.
Niko breathes into my palm.
And somewhere in another room, another city, another body:
Cassian touches his phone.
But does not press.
---
Niko POV:
When you live with an Alpha Especially if you are Alpha too, you learn to feel their movements before they make them.
It’s like a current under the skin, a vibration that touches your sternum.
Ash is now by the closet, putting on his black shirt, movements clean, calculated, no rush.
Calm.
Too calm.
This is the calm that precedes big decisions.
I sit up, blanket around me.
I moisten my lips.
I don’t want to seem small.
I don’t want to seem hurt.
Even if something inside me tightens.
“So… you talked to her?” I say.
“Yes.”
He taps me lightly, not the way to knock down, but to wake.
Then, I don’t look at the floor.
I don’t lower my voice.
I don’t shrink.
I rise.
Approach him. Grab his shirt at the chest with my fingers.
“What are you going to do, Ash?”
I don’t ask permission.
I demand truth.
His eyes drop to my hand on his shirt.
He doesn’t push it away.
He doesn’t retreat.
“I’ll let him,” he says simply.
My heart beats in my throat.
Not panic.
Recognition.
I knew he would say it.
But I wanted to hear it.
“Let him what?” I ask, short voice.
Ash inhales.
Not hard, not tense. Just… deep.
“To choose. To fall. To find himself. Or to return.”
His gaze catches mine.
Unwavering.
No fiber trembles.
“If I pull him now, he breaks. If I push, he runs. If I hold him by force, I become what hurt him, baby. I do this for his good.”
I swallow.
This isn’t drama.
This is real.
“And if he doesn’t return?
”My voice doesn’t break.
Just asks.
Ash lifts his hand and holds my chin.
Two fingers.
That’s all.
“Niko.”
Just my name.
But said in that way.
The way I know I’m not lost anywhere.
“I don’t lose,” he says. “I wait. And when the time comes, I lift.”
Something in my chest gives, not broken.
Surrendered in trust.
I press my forehead to his collarbone.
Breathe there, a little.
Then raise my eyes to him.
“It will hurt,” I say.
“Yes,” he replies.
“And we will want him,” I say softer.
“Yes,” he replies again.
“And he will come?” I ask.
Ash places his palm on my neck and pulls me to him, forehead to forehead, just like that morning.
Same anchor.
Same bond.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No gamble.
Affirmation.
“Because we are home. His home, his anchor, he will feel it, Niko. I’m sure. ”
And in those words, it’s not a promise.
It’s prophecy.