Chapter 114
Lila
The palace garden on the upper balcony was quiet–just the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the occasional buzz of a bee drifting lazily past the wildflowers.
I sat on the low stone wall edging the walkway, arms braced behind me, the sun warming my shoulders. My skin still ached faintly from training the day
before.
My wolf–still frustratingly quiet–remained curled somewhere deep, like she was listening but unwilling to speak.
I didn’t blame her.
A few steps behind me, the guards kept their distance. Not too far from being negligent, but far enough to pretend I had privacy.
The illusion helped. Some days I felt like a decorative vase–watched, examined, never quite trusted not to tip.
I didn’t hear Asher approach, but I smelled him before I saw him.
“I thought I’d find you up here,” he said, voice mild.
I didn’t turn. “Looking for me, or hiding from your game responsibilities?”
A chuckle. Low, careful. “Can’t I do both?”
I glanced over my shoulder. He looked… different today. Not dramatically, not in his clothes or his hair–those were still precise, tailored, charming. But his posture was looser, less performative.
He held something in his hands, wrapped in dark linen.
I raised a brow. “Did you bring me a present?”
ト
“Hardly,” he said, stepping closer. “Just something from the archives. Dried stormroot. You mentioned once you used it for your mother’s joints. This batch is aged–stronger. Thought you might want it.”
That stopped me.
I turned fully, reaching for the bundle as he extended it. Our fingers brushed, briefly. The cloth was soft, and inside it, the faint scent of the herb lit up memories–bitter, earthy, grounding, and warm in equal measure.
“…Thank you,” I said slowly. “That’s… thoughtful.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual smirk. “I’m capable of that sometimes.”
I tucked the bundle into my lap and gave him a look. “Why are you really here?”
He leaned one hip against the low wall beside me, gaze turned toward the view rather than me. “I wanted to ask if you’d join me on a short diplomatic trip. Just an hour or two. There’s a historical site outside Black Hollow–where two of the oldest Packs signed their first unity accord.”
I blinked. That wasn’t what I’d expected.
“You want me to visit ruins with you.”
“I want you to see something outside these walls.” He turned toward me. “You’ve been surrounded by busybodies and judgement for weeks. You’re constantly performing. Out there… there’s space. History. Perspective.”
“And you?” I asked.
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Chapter 114
“I’ll be your guide. Not your distraction.” He hesitated, then added, “Unless you want that of course.”
I didn’t answer. Not immediately. I watched the wind stir the hare at his nape.
I thought about Damon. About distance. About how long it had been since I made a choice just for myself.
“You think it’ll help?” I asked. “Seeing this place?”
“I think you deserve to see the world you might one day help lead.” He meant it. Or at least, he thought he did. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I stood, brushing the folds of my dress back into place. “Fine. I’ll go. But this isn’t a date.”
His smile returned–small, unreadable. “Of course not. Unless you’d rather it be.”
I rolled my eyes and turned away before he could see the twitch at the corner of my mouth. Behind me, his footsteps retreated down the path, light and
even.
I sat back down slowly, heart still uncertain. He was dangerous when he was charming. But he was worse like this–quiet, careful, sincere.
Because this version of Asher made me wonder if I’d underestimated him. And that… I couldn’t afford.
The palace stables smelled like cedar shavings, leather oil, and morning dew. A few horses stamped softly in their stalls, their breath curling into the air in little white puffs.
Grooms bustled in the background, checking harnesses and preparing the modest caravan for departure, but none dared speak to me directly. They bowed as I passed, eyes politely averted.
Emma tightened the final strap on my boots and straightened with a satisfied nod. “You look like someone going to war,” she said, brushing a bit of dust
off my shoulder.
I gave her a dry look. “It’s a field trip, not a battle.”
She arched a brow. “You’re going off–grounds with Asher, unsupervised. It might as well be both.”
A laugh tried to rise in my throat but didn’t quite make it. “He’s being… different.”
Emma’s hands stilled. “Different how?”
“Less teeth. More earnest.” I paused. “It’s unsettling.”
She gave a quiet hum of agreement, then reached for the clasp on my cloak and fastened it with a click. “You’ll be fine. But if you’re not back by dawn tomorrow, I’m sending Ronan.”
“Good,” I said. “He’s the only one Asher might actually fear.”
Emma gave me a sly grin and pressed a small charm into my hand–a flat stone etched with a protective rune. “Pocket,” she said. “Just in case.”
I tucked it away without argument.
Outside the stables, the afternoon sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the gravel courtyard.
Asher waited by the lead carriage, dressed in dark riding clothes that lacked his usual flourishes. No velvet. No polished buttons. Just understated linen, sturdy boots, and a dark gray cloak tossed carelessly over one shoulder.
It almost made him look honest. Almost.
He offered a two–fingered salute when he saw me, then walked around to open the carriage door himself. Not a footman. Not a guard. Just him.
The gesture was too smooth to be unpracticed.
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Chapter 114
“Your chariot awaits, my lady,” he said, lightly mocking but not unkind.
I raised a brow. “If you start reciting poetry, I’m turning around.”
“No poetry,” he promised. “Just ruins and possible ruination.”
lignored the suggestion and stepped up into the carriage, the interior comfortable but not too much–plush navy cushions, a small satchel of provisions tucked in the corner, and heavy curtains ready to be drawn for privacy or rest.
Asher followed a moment later, settling across from me with a quiet grace that felt… rehearsed. He was a noble, after all.
I glanced out the small window just in time to see a rider appear on the distant ridge–motionless, watching. Dressed in black. Damon’s elite.
So, he was letting me go. But not unprotected.
The thought stirred something in my chest. Not relief. Not exactly disappointment. Just… tightness.
Asher followed my gaze but said nothing. He must have seen the guard too. I didn’t know if he recognized the silent escort or if he just understood the
game.
“You nervous?” he asked after a long moment.
I didn’t look away from the window. “Not of the place.”
He nodded slowly, accepting the answer.
The carriage jolted slightly as it began to move, wheels crunching over gravel and onto the road beyond the palace gates. The motion was gentle, swaying. Rhythmic.
Asher rested his hands palm–up on his knees. Open. Empty. Not reaching. Not pressing.
It was a new kind of tension.
I studied him for a long moment in the quiet, the way his lashes caught the fading light, the faint line between his brows like he was thinking too hard about what not to say.
It was the kind of silence that should have felt awkward. But it didn’t. It felt like a question waiting for an answer I hadn’t decided to giv
I leaned my head back against the cushion and closed my eyes.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to understand him better. Or if I was afraid I already did.
