He didn’t argue. He never did when I was being practical.
We pressed on, our movements cautious and deliberate, staying close to the tree line.
But as we neared the road, my gut twisted. Something wasn’t right.
I froze, catching Asher by the arm to halt him too. He looked at me, confusion in his eyes, but I shook my head.
We peered through the sheets of rain at the road ahead.
A cluster of dark shapes loomed, barely visible. Vehicles. Hunters, no doubt.
They’d set up a roadblock, exactly where we needed to cross. My grip on Asher’s arm tightened.
“Damn it,” he hissed, his voice laced with frustration.
I scanned the area, my mind racing. The forest stretched behind us, dense but not endless. We couldn’t double back forever.
I clenched my teeth, the frustration in me boiling over. We were cornered, trapped like animals.
The rain grew heavier, pounding down in thick sheets.
I squinted through the downpour and spotted a dark silhouette to our left. A structure, barely standing, likely abandoned. Shelter.
“There!” I pointed.
We made a break for it, slipping and sliding through the mud. My muscles screamed with each movement, but I didn’t care.
All that mattered was getting Asher out of the open, away from the hunters.
We stumbled into the shelter. It was barely big enough for the two of us, but it was dry. Or at least, drier than out there.
I closed the metal door behind us. It wouldn’t stop anyone determined to get in, but it was something.
Asher slumped against the back wall, rainwater streaming off him in rivulets.
His hair hung in wet clumps around his face, his eyes shadowed and hollow.
I leaned my forehead against the cold metal of the door, trying to think of our next step.
The storm outside howled, wind rattling the cage. I turned, my eyes landing on Asher.
He was staring at the floor, his shoulders tight.
“You lied to me,” I said, my voice low.
His head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“You heard what I said,” I told him.
He looked away, jaw clenching. That was all the confirmation I needed.
My anger simmered just beneath the surface, but it wasn’t pure rage. It was the same old fear.
Fear that he was slipping away. Fear that despite everything that had happened between us, he would go back to the Guild.
“You talked to Declan,” I accused, my voice trembling with barely controlled frustration.
Asher’s head dropped, his wet hair obscuring his face. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I planned on telling you.”
