Asher Nightshade's Arc

Chapter 3 of 7

The dragon's warmth faded when dawn came. The woman slept against its side, her breath slow. Asher watched her throat move. His fangs ached. The hunger had grown all night, worse each time she leaned close. He had to move away before he did something he could not take back. He carried her inside and set her on the fuzzy orange chair by the tall bookcase. She curled into the soft cushions and did not wake. Asher stepped back. His hands shook. The smell of her blood filled the room. He gripped a shelf of the great bookcase to hold himself still. He could not master this alone. There was one person who knew his nature. The one who had walked away. Asher ran to the wolf hut at the forest edge. Smoke rose from its stone chimney. He pounded on the round wooden door. Rowan opened it, blue eyes cold, wolf ears flat. His tail did not wag. "You came here," Rowan said. "I told you what you'd do to her." "I know," Asher said. "That's why I'm here. Teach me to stop it. Please." Rowan's jaw tightened. He had warned Asher and been ignored. Now he stared at his old friend on the step, begging. "You can't stop it. It's what you are." "Then tell me how you kept me from killing before," Asher said. "Two hundred years. You taught me once. Do it again." Rowan was silent. Something in his face broke. He stepped outside. "Hunger feeds on nearness," he said. "You've been letting it build. You have to feed the ache before it owns you. Not on her." He led Asher to a snare in the brush. A rabbit hung there, still warm. "Take this first. Every day, before you go near her. Empty the craving on something that isn't human." Asher drank. The blood was thin and wrong, but the fire under his ribs sank low. His hands went still. For the first time since she arrived, he felt in control. "It won't hold forever," Rowan said. "But it buys you time. Feed before her, never after." Asher looked up. "Why help me?" Rowan's ears twitched. "Because if I don't, you'll kill her. And I'd rather teach you than bury her." He turned back toward his hut. "This doesn't fix us, Asher." Asher returned to the manor. The woman still slept in the orange chair. He knelt beside her, close now, and felt only quiet where the hunger had raged. He did not crave her blood. He watched her wake and smile at him. But Rowan's words stayed with him. The rabbit bought time, not a cure. And now Rowan knew the woman lived under his roof. Asher had traded one danger for another. His secret was no longer his alone.