Chapter 115
Lila
We rolled to a stop at the edge of a narrow forest path, the crunch of gravel fading into silence as the wheels stilled.
When the door opened, a wave of cool, pine–sweet air swept in, replacing the closeness of velvet cushions and stifled breath with something older. Wilder.
I stepped down, and ahead, tall silver–pine trees formed a natural archway, their trunks pale and straight, their needles whispering even though the wind
had stilled.
“This way,” Asher said softly, gesturing to a barely visible path. “It’s just ahead.”
His voice was different here. Stripped of the arrogance I’d come to know. It made
Still, I followed.
me wary.
The forest felt thick with memory and I felt as though I was being watched. As if it remembered every footstep that had ever pressed against its roots. The air was charged, heavy with scent–wet earth, old bark, a faint trace of crushed petals.
Asher walked ahead with easy familiarity, and he seemed less guarded here.
Carved stones lined the path, worn smooth by time and touch. Faded symbols were etched into their surfaces–runes I didn’t fully recognize. I slowed to read one, trailing my fingertips across the weather–softened grooves.
My skin prickled with heat the moment I touched it. And Ruby stirred more than she had in what felt like weeks. It was just a flicker in my gut, like the first flick of a tail beneath still water.
I froze. Then breathed in.
The magic here wasn’t like the palace; it wasn’t sickly sweet and full
of
expectations. Here,
a
living thing. Root–deep. Untamed.
“Sacred rites used to be held here,” Asher said without turning around. “Back before the council system. Before bloodlines dictated everything.”
“I didn’t think this kind of place still existed,” I murmured.
“They don’t. Not like this.”
We stepped into the clearing moments later, and it took my breath away.
The grove was circular, cradled by old trees and carpeted in moss. At the center stood a dry basin carved into a slab of stone–likely once used for offerings.
Surrounding it were smaller stones set in a deliberate pattern, half–swallowed by vines and moonlilies blooming in wild defiance of the season or time of day.
I felt the magic of the place move through my chest like a second heartbeat.
Asher pulled off his cloak and laid it across one of the larger stones, nodding for me to sit. I hesitated but accepted the invitation. Not because he aske but because the weight in my limbs told me to be still.
This place demanded respect and reverence.
I lowered myself onto the makeshift seat, palms resting on my thighs. The stone was cool beneath me, grounding. My breath evened out slowly, syncing with the rhythm of the trees.
Beneath my ribs, Ruby stirred again. Closer now. Listening.
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15:34, Sun 15 Jün G
Chapter 115
I touched another runed stone near my foot. This time, the pulse of warmth was sharper–like recognition. Not memory exactly, but acknowledgment
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet fill me. It felt… steady. Like the grove had been waiting patiently.
When I opened my eyes, Asher was watching me–l
but not in the way most people did. Not like I was a question or a liability. His expression was careful, Like he didn’t want to interrupt something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to witness.
“I came here once,” he said quietly. “During the summer rites. I was ten. There were songs, lanterns, laughter.”
“I’sense there is a ‘but‘ to this story?”
“My father told me it was a distraction. That power wasn’t in roots or stories. It was in blood and fear. I never came back.”
I looked at him then–really looked. There was no smirk. No mask.
And something in me understood: Asher hadn’t brought me here for some political stunt or history lesson. He’d brought me here to share a piece of himself he rarely showed others.
His posture had changed. He didn’t lean back or lounge with lazy confidence. He sat forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands loose between them.
And a new tension in his shoulders had set in.
For once, he didn’t fill the silence. And for a while, I didn’t either.
“I hated it,” he said eventually, voice low. “Being the cousin. The second son of the wrong brother. I spent half my childhood trying to impress Damon, and the other half trying to beat him at everything I could.”
I turned toward him slightly, holding my breath, afraid to interrupt.
“It never worked, of course.” He smiled without teeth. “He was always stronger. Sharper. The court saw him as inevitable. I was just decoration.”
I studied his face. The slant of his jaw, usually held so confidently, looked tired now. His hair had come loose at the temples and something about it made him look younger. Softer.
“You’re not decoration,” I said. “You’re far clever for your own good.”
He let out a soft laugh. “That’s what people say when they don’t want to call someone expendable.”
I frowned, but he went on before I could reply.
“I think that’s why I like you,” he said. “You don’t care who I’m supposed to be. You don’t play the game–not the way the others do.”
I stiffened slightly. “I don’t want to play at all.”
“I know,” he said, finally turning to meet my gaze. “That’s what scares me.”
His eyes were darker in this light, the gold in them muted to something earthier. For once, he wasn’t watching me to read me—he was just watching, like he was memorizing the moment.
“You make things feel possible,” he murmured. “Like there’s more than just surviving court or chasing a title. When I’m around you, I forget I’m supposed to be someone I hate.”
My heart tugged in a way I didn’t want it to.
“And I hate that,” he added, a whisper. “Because it means I started looking for you. In rooms you weren’t in. In conversations you didn’t start.”
He reached up slowly–one hand lifting, hesitant. And tucked a stay lock of hair behind my ear.
I didn’t flinch. But I didn’t lean in either. This was… not at all what I expected.
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Chapter 115
Asher leaned forward slightly, eyes still on mine. His lips parted just a breath away from closing the distance.
And I turned my head. Just enough that his kiss pressed gently to my cheek.
His hand hovered in the space between us before dropping back to his knee. I didn’t want to read into his expression, but I saw a flash of hurt.
“I don’t want to give you false hope,” I said gently. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I won’t lie to you either.”
Asher’s familiar smirk returned, but it was hollow. “Well. Worth a try. You can go back to pretending I’m a careless bastard and I’ll return to flirting mercilessly until you come to your senses.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t owe him anything more than honesty. And I wasn’t sure I owed him even that.
He stood, brushing imaginary dirt from his pants, the movement practiced. Deflection, the mask of the game returning. It left me feeling a little hollow
now, too.
“I’ll let the driver know we’ll leave soon,” he said. “Moon’s almost up.”
I nodded once. “Okay.”
Asher didn’t look back as he walked toward the edge of the grove. But I saw the way his shoulders tightened. Just a little.
I sat alone for a few more minutes. Let the stone press into my thighs, the moss soften beneath my boots. I closed my eyes and let the magic hum through my ribs.
Ruby was more awake now. Less distant.
Waiting.
The moon broke through the branches in a single silver thread. And I rose into it, steady and alone.
