Chapter Three

Clara's POV

The journey to Asher’s pack had felt endless. Four days on the road, always looking over my shoulder, waiting for Aleron’s men to catch up. But they never did. Asher made sure of that. He stayed close, being protective and comforting. At night, while I tried to sleep by the fire, I’d hear him pacing. Once could almost say he and Aleron had a past.

Now, though, I was safe—or as safe as I could be. Asher’s pack was different from Aleron’s. Quiet. Organized. People didn’t flinch when he spoke or look away in fear. They listened. They respected him, and it wasn’t forced. It was strange to see. Comforting, even.

My first few days here were a blur. Resting, eating more than I had in weeks, trying to make myself invisible. Asher didn’t push me, but he didn’t let me withdraw completely, either. He’d knock on the door of the guest room and ask if I’d join him for meals or walks. At first, I made excuses. Too tired. Not hungry. But eventually, I gave in.

Tonight, he showed up after dinner. “Come with me,” he said, his hand outstretched.

I hesitated, but then I took it. His hand was warm, his grip solid but gentle.

We walked in silence at first, the cool night air brushing against my skin. The forest paths were well-worn, the ground soft under my boots. The trees towered above us, their branches filtering the moonlight into faint silver patterns.

“This path has been here for generations,” Asher said, his voice low, like he didn’t want to disturb the quiet. “Wolves have run it for centuries. My father showed it to me when I was a boy.”

I glanced at him, his face relaxed but focused ahead. “You talk about your father like you respected him.”

“I did,” he said simply. “He wasn’t perfect, but he taught me what it means to lead. What it means to protect.”

The word hung in the air between us. Protect. I wasn’t sure I believed in that anymore, not after Aleron.

The path curved, and suddenly the trees opened up, revealing a small, steaming pool of water. The air was thick with the scent of minerals, the steam curling into the night like ghostly tendrils.

“This is the hot spring,” Asher said, stepping aside so I could take it in. “It’s where we come to heal—physically, emotionally. It’s private. Sacred, in a way.”

I swallowed, overwhelmed by the simple beauty of it. “It’s... incredible.”

He smiled, a rare, soft thing that made my chest ache. “Come closer.”

I did, stepping carefully to the edge of the pool. The steam rose around us, blurring the lines of the world.

Asher crouched down beside me, his movements easy, unhurried. “There’s a tradition,” he said, glancing up at me. “A way we greet each other in the pack. It’s not just words—it’s a connection. Here, let me show you.”

I tensed, instinctively pulling back. “I’m not sure—”

“It’s just a gesture,” he said, his voice steady, patient. “Nothing more unless you want it to be.”

I nodded, uncertain but trusting him more than I probably should.

He took my hands, his fingers warm against mine. “Start with this,” he said, guiding my hands to rest against his chest. “It’s about grounding. Feeling the heartbeat of the person in front of you. Knowing they’re real.”

His heartbeat was steady, a deep, reassuring rhythm under my palms. I felt my breath hitch, my throat tightening.

“Then you speak,” he continued, his voice low. “Something simple. Like, ‘I’m here.’”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat.

“Try it,” he urged gently.

“I’m here,” I whispered.

His smile returned, soft and genuine. “Good. Now this part’s optional, but... it’s important to me.”

“What is it?”

He leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing mine. “You let yourself trust. Just for a moment.”

The air between us felt electric. His breath was warm against my skin, his closeness overwhelming but not unwelcome.

“You’re sweet,” I said before I could stop myself.

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, wrapping around me like a blanket. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He tilted his head, his eyes locking onto mine. “Clara,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I swear, I’ll protect you. Always.”

My chest tightened, his words settling over me. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. Instead, I leaned in, my lips brushing his.

The kiss was tentative at first, almost hesitant. But then his hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer, and the heat between us ignited.

I pressed against him, my fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. His lips were firm but gentle, his touch careful, like he was afraid I’d shatter.

But I wasn’t fragile—not anymore.

“Asher,” I murmured against his mouth, my voice barely audible.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

And then there was no hesitation. His hands moved with purpose, sliding up my back, down my sides. The steam from the hot spring curled around us, the heat matching the fire building between us.

He laid me down gently, the ground beneath me soft from years of fallen leaves. His lips found mine again, and I let myself forget everything—Aleron, the fear, the pain.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe. And with Asher, I felt alive.