Chapter Four

I woke up in Asher's arms, his fingers tracing lazy circles over my hand.

"You’re beautiful," he said softly, his voice still rough from sleep.

I stayed quiet, my chest tightening.

He shifted slightly, turning to face me more. "Whatever happened with Aleron... it doesn’t matter to me. It never will."

Before I could respond, a knock echoed through the room.

"Enter," Asher called, his tone firm but calm.

His beta stepped in, his face tense. "Alpha, I bring urgent news."

Asher sat up, pulling the blanket higher over me without a second thought. "What is it?"

"The Lycan King of the South has declared war. He demands you return his mate—Clara—or he’ll wipe us out in three days."

Asher chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "Aleron won’t dare challenge me. His forces are nowhere near strong enough to—"

The beta interrupted, his voice grim. "He’s just accepted a new werewolf Alpha under his insignia. His numbers are growing fast, and he’s already preparing for battle."

My heart sank, dread pooling in my stomach.

Asher’s jaw tightened. "Three days?"

The beta nodded. "Three days to surrender Clara, or he attacks."

Tears burned my eyes as memories of Aleron flooded back. His cruelty, the way he laughed when he rejected me, the pain of being cast aside like I was nothing. My voice wavered. "Why does he want me? He had an Alpha’s daughter. He told me I was nothing. Why now?"

Asher turned to me, his eyes softening. He pulled me closer, brushing a tear from my cheek. "Clara, don’t let him do this to you. You’re worth far more than he could ever understand. And he’ll never touch you again. I promise."

"But what if—"

"Enough, darling " he said gently but firmly. "I’ll handle Aleron. You’re safe here. I won’t let him hurt you."

I wanted to believe him. For the first time, I felt the faintest flicker of hope.

Asher held me close, his fingers brushing over my hair as he murmured reassurances I could barely hear over the pounding in my chest.

When I finally pulled away, his eyes softened. “You’ve had a rough day,” he said gently. “Why don’t you go shower? Or take a long soak in the tub. Let yourself relax for a bit.”

I hesitated. “But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, a small, reassuring smile breaking through the tension on his face. “I’ll take care of everything. You need to take care of yourself right now.”

His hand lingered on my cheek for a moment, warm and grounding. I nodded reluctantly and made my way to the guest room he had set up for me.

After my shower, I wrapped myself in one of the soft robes Asher had left for me. The warm water had done little to wash away the unease twisting in my chest. Asher had insisted I rest, but the walls of his home felt too big, too quiet, and my thoughts too loud.

I wandered the halls, letting my feet guide me. The house—or perhaps mansion—was beautiful but intimidating, its scale reminding me of how small I felt here. I eventually stumbled upon the kitchen, where a group of maids bustled about.

“Oh! Miss Clara!” One of them greeted me with a warm smile. Her name was Nora, I’d learned. She had kind eyes and a soothing voice.

“Hi,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, already wiping her hands on her apron.

“A little,” I admitted.

Before I could refuse, they offered me a plate of freshly baked bread and fruit, chatting with me as I ate. Their kindness was unexpected, and for a moment, it felt like a glimpse of normalcy—something I hadn’t had in so long.

But the peace was short-lived.

As I stepped back into the hallway, I nearly collided with a regal-looking woman. Her presence was commanding, her posture perfect, and her expression as cold as steel.

The Queen Luna. Asher’s mother.

“You must be Clara,” she said, her voice sharp enough to cut. She looked me over, her lip curling slightly in distaste.

“Yes,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Taking a stroll, are we?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “While the rest of us prepare for war, you roam around, indulging in bread and fruit like a guest on vacation.”

I froze, unsure how to respond.

She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? How many lives will be lost because of your selfishness?”

“I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what? Didn’t ask to be pursued by the Lycan King? Didn’t think your presence here would bring his wrath upon us?” She laughed, a cold, humorless sound. “Ignorance isn’t innocence, dear girl.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back.

“You think Asher can protect you?” she continued, circling me like a predator. “Do you know what war means, Clara? It means fathers, brothers, sons—thousands of them—will die. All for you. Are you truly worth that much?”

“I didn’t want this,” I whispered.

“And yet, here you are,” she snapped. “Comfortable, safe, while others will bleed and burn for your choices.”

Her words were like knives, each one cutting deeper.

“If you had an ounce of decency, you’d see what must be done,” she said, her voice softening just enough to make her cruelty more piercing. “You would go back to Aleron. End this madness before it starts. Spare Asher, his pack, his people. But no—you’ll stay here, won’t you? Hiding behind Asher’s strength while others pay the price.”

I shook my head, my voice trembling. “He won’t let me go.”

She smiled then, a cold, calculating smile. “That’s because Asher is blinded by his feelings for you. But if you truly cared for him, for his people, you would find a way.”

Her words echoed in my mind as she walked away, her posture still regal, her gaze still cold.

I stood there for what felt like hours, her accusations replaying over and over. Was she right? Could I live with myself if others suffered because of me?

As the night fell, I found myself slipping out of the house, the weight of her words pressing down on me. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was the only way to save them all.