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.”
