CHAPTER TWENTY #3
My muscles ached and my head still throbbed, but it was the look in Asher’s eyes that froze the breath in my lungs.
He didn't sit beside me. He didn't offer a comforting hand.
He stood before me, a silhouette of sheer power. Arms crossed. Jaw locked. His silver eyes weren't just glowing; they were blazing with a lethal, focused intent.
"Why were you lying to me?"
His voice was low and sharp, edged with enough danger to make my pulse skip.
I swallowed hard, the dryness in my throat making it difficult to find the words. "I—um… You don't understand, I was trying to—"
Before I could finish, shadows surged from the floorboards.
They weren’t cruel or cold. They slid over my skin like heated silk, curling around my throat in a phantom caress before pressing against my lips to steal the rest of my excuse.
Gods. I couldn’t help the low, broken moan that escaped against his shadows.
Asher's eyes narrowed, his pupils blown wide. “Oh, I understand perfectly,” he seethed, stepping into the space between my feet.
"I found Jules sneaking through the back corridors of House Ignis. She wouldn't stop rambling about you two playing detective—hunting down some miracle cure for Ryven."
My heart stuttered. "The antidote!" I shouted through the bond, since the physical world was currently muffled by his shadows. "Jules found it—it had to be tonight!"
I sent a silent prayer to the gods that Jules had kept the rest to herself. If he knew about the hidden chamber—if he knew we had found Veyari text and that Jax was writing in the language of the Shadow-dwellers—he wouldn't just be angry.
He'd lock me in this tower and swallow the key.
He rolled his neck slowly, like he was physically restraining himself from tearing something apart.
"Ezra already handled it," he muttered, his gaze dropping to my mouth. "I sent him to follow Jules' trail while I tracked yours. Ember went with him. They retrieved the flowering bud."
My eyes widened in the dim light. "Ryven?"
"He's stable," Asher confirmed, though his tone remained iron-cold. "They got the antidote to him in time. The corruption is... leaving him. It's over."
Relief crashed through me, so intense it left me light-headed, but it was short-lived.
The shadows around my mouth retreated just enough for me to breathe, but they didn't disappear.
“Now,” he said, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped farther between my knees. “Back to you. Defying me.”
I panted, my entire body thrumming with tension.
"Asher…"
"You told me you were studying," he growled, the vibration of his voice rattling my ribs. "You pushed me out of your head. And then you went sneaking off to a gods-damned unsanctioned vault. Alone. With no backup."
His fingers trailed along my jaw before settling beneath my chin, his grip tightening just enough to force me to look at him.
"You nearly died, Ava. If I hadn't felt that blood-spike..."
The bond flared between us, a chaotic mix of desire, fear, and raw territorial possession.
"You're mine, darling," he murmured, and the shadows in the corners of the room seemed to whisper the words back to me. "And next time you think about running into a death trap without me…"
He leaned down, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "I'll tie you to my bed until you learn how to behave."
My thighs clenched instinctively, a treacherous heat pooling at my center. Gods. He had me ruined, and the smug, dark look in his eyes told me he knew exactly how much power he held.
Then he stood up. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the shadows in the room surged.
I gasped as my wrists were suddenly hauled high above my head, pinned by their silken weight.
My ankles were pulled tight against the edges of the lounge, my thighs forced open and bared to his predatory gaze.
He didn't move at first. He just watched me, his eyes traveling over every inch of my flushed skin. Then he moved behind the head of the lounge.
I couldn't see him anymore, but I felt him.
Every hair on my body stood up as his presence loomed over me from the darkness, the scent of rain and spice thick enough to drown in.
His breath ghosted across my neck. His magic rolled over my skin, making me tremble before he even touched me.
I trembled, heat already slicking between my legs before he even laid a finger on me.
“Hmm, you wicked little thing.” Asher’s voice was deep and lazy behind me, vibrating through the back of the lounge.
"You like this, don't you? Being held. Being seen."
A shadow slithered over my stomach, curling higher until it reached the underside of my sports bra. I gasped as it flicked upward—and suddenly, the fabric lifted. My bra peeled up over my breasts, exposing me to the cool air of the chamber.
To him.
Still, he didn't touch me with his hands.
I could feel his eyes burning into my skin from behind, a physical weight that made my heart hammer.
Then the sound of his boots echoed across the stone. He stepped into my line of sight; the dried blood on his shirt looked like dark, violent art across the fabric.
His shadows pulsed in rhythm with his breathing, responding to the tension between us.
He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
I couldn't breathe.
Each inch of revealed skin was a sin, all hard muscle, broad shoulders, and blood-slicked abs that flexed with every jagged breath he took.
His silver eyes locked onto mine, and I searched for a hint of mercy.
I found none.
"My little sinner," he murmured.
I whimpered, the sound small and broken in the quiet room.
He walked around the side—slowly, deliberately—dragging out the agony like a predator circling prey.
When he reached the front, he still didn't touch me. Instead, he grabbed a heavy chair, dragged it directly in front of me, and sat.
He sat with his legs spread, elbows on his knees, shadows twining lazily around his forearms like smoke.
"Look at you," he said, his voice a low, gravelly drawl. "Tied up. Needing. And all for me."
He didn't touch me.
He just watched. And gods, that made it so much worse.
It made it better. One tendril of shadow slithered across the inside of my thigh, the phantom heat of it making me jerk against the restraints.
Another curled around my neck, pressing just enough to make my pulse jump under the darkness.
"Asher," his name came out cracked and desperate.
He leaned back slightly, his muscles flexing in the firelight. "Say it again," he commanded.
"Asher."
Another tendril dipped between my legs, grazing my center, and I gasped as a sharp spike of pleasure nearly made me cry out.
"You like being watched, don't you?" His voice was hoarse now, roughened by restraint.
"You like being mine."
"I—I—"
"Shh," he whispered, his eyes never leaving mine. "Don't speak unless I tell you to."
He watched me squirm. Sweat slicked my chest, and my back arched helplessly against the velvet as I fought the invisible hands of his magic. He didn't move from the chair.
"You're not ready for what I will do to you when I finally claim you," he murmured, his eyes roaming over every inch of my bound, trembling body with the ruthless focus of a predator.
"I will make you beg. Scream. Shatter. And then I'll rebuild you… as mine."
He leaned forward, his eyes glowing a haunting, translucent silver. I couldn't breathe; the air in the room had turned to pure electricity.
"Yours," I whispered, the word a vow and a surrender all at once.
He grinned—feral, devastating, and entirely satisfied.
"My sweet sin."
I was trembling so hard I could barely keep still. His shadows danced across my skin like they knew me— knew every desperate want, every dark secret buried in my marrow.
gods, they did.
"Asher..." I gasped, my back arching off the velvet. "Please. Touch me. Use your hands."
He didn't move an inch. He didn't even blink.
He just smiled—that slow, wicked curve of his lips—and leaned back in that chair like the king of shadows he was born to be. His magic obeyed where his hands remained still.
The shadows slid down my waist, curling around my hips like heated silk, tugging at the elastic band of my tights.
I lifted my hips instinctively, a low whimper escaping me as I let them drag the fabric down, past my thighs, past my knees, until I was completely exposed to the firelight. His gaze never left me. Not once.
"That's it," he murmured, his voice as rough as woodsmoke.
"Let them undress you for me, darling."
The moment the air hit my skin, the tendrils trailed inward—slowly—reaching the sensitive heat of my inner thighs. I moaned, a broken, helpless sound.
They knew exactly where to touch, exactly how much pressure to apply. It was electric.
Every stroke sent heat through my veins, making the bond pulse until I was nothing but a live wire.
My heart? Gone. My sanity? Shattered. My soul?
His. Entirely his.
"Yes," he purred, his voice molten and low. "Beg for it. Let me hear how much you want the dark."
"Fuck me," I breathed, my head lolling back as the shadows teased my center. "Asher, please—I can't—"
He growled, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated in my chest.
In one fluid motion, the shadows holding my wrists and ankles vanished.
He stood and undid the clasps of his leathers.
My breath hitched as they fell away.
Gods, he was beautiful. All muscle, shadows, and sin.
He stepped into the space between my legs, his length straining, thick and heavy.