Shielding the Beast (discontinued)

Thirty-One | Promise

A/N:
Starts in Asher's POV.

Happy reading :)

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Crickets chirp at the bottom of the tower, singing their annoying songs from the protection of the undergrowth. The same scent that had rushed through the tower lingers in the air. I follow it, my mood souring the stronger it gets.

I walk through a shoulder-high wall of vegetation, pushing the leaves aside as I pass. Droplets of dew soak into my shirt, damp leaves dragging across my face in a gentle caress, leaving a wet trail on my skin. The tall leafy plants give way to a small clearing on the other side. Dim moonlight shines on the ground there, whereas in the forest only shadows lie.

On the other side of the clearing is the epitome of the scent. He sits on a fallen log, his neck and shoulders tensed as he focuses on what's in his hand. He makes forceful movements, jerking his entire body as he scrapes the bark from a stick with his clawed thumb. His brow is creased in concentration and his eyes are virulent. Darkened.

He doesn't notice my presence until leaves rustle underfoot. His head snaps up, a belligerent alertness flashing across his face, there and gone as his eyes land on me. The hostility slowly dies from his irises.

"Can't sleep?" I ask, only for pleasantries. I'm the one who can't sleep. He's the one with a plan he isn't telling. He may have the trust of my mate, but mine is absent in his arsenal.

"Just enjoying the night." His tone is casual. So casual that it teeters on the line between being believably honest or pointing to the signs of a practiced liar. "Back in the old days, when her identity was still a secret, this is the only world we knew. Foresta di Vellos. The shadows were the only blanket you needed."

My body stills. I can feel the anger rooting deep inside, waiting to be provoked further. He doesn't say a name, but a name isn't required. We both know who he's talking about.

"She's not a rogue anymore," I inform, my calmness wagering. "That life is over."

He keeps whittling at his stick, seemingly unfazed by the note of irritation in my voice. Just as if he hadn't heard me at all, he continues talking to supply his own conversation.

"She should have been broken," he says, poised, "The moment that first scream rung out through the forest she should have shattered and never mended. But she didn't. She went on like a damn machine. So let me ask you, Asher," he looks up, meeting my gaze with a startling firmness. "Will you really be the one to break her?"

In an instant a hot rage is shooting through my veins. A pugnacious agitation breaks through, melting the blue of my eyes into a glowing yellow.

"Break her?" I seethe at him through gritting canines, speaking deathly clear so that the meaning is not misinterpreted, "I'm protecting her."

Cole snorts, leaning back. "No. You're not. You're torturing her. You shouldn't have come here. You should've stayed where she left you."

Razor-like claws bite deep into my palms, held within curled fists. Amber protected him when I first laid eyes on him. She vouched for him and I let him live. But she's not here now.

The white hot rage worsens, burning inside my chest and urging me to satisfy it.

"You love her," I growl out. It's maddening. To think of another person holding her in a light only I should.

While my body is trembling to shift, Cole's remains relaxed. Unbothered.

"I do."

A snarl rips from my lips. I take a step forward, but some invisible force holds me back. Beckons me to let him continue.