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In their wolf forms, the members of West House prowled the perimeter, their ears pricked and senses on high alert. Hence, at the sight of a lone figure approaching from the darkness, they bared their teeth and braced themselves to attack if need be until they caught the scent.

Recognizing who it belonged to, the wolves immediately relaxed, the growls vanishing into silence. One by one, they lowered their heads in submission, and moments later, a certain alpha appeared, bag slung over his shoulder.

Asher Nightshade had returned.

Asher moved like the king he was, stopping before them, his mere presence tensing the air. The wolves shifted into their human forms, kneeling with their faces full of surprise. They had not expected him tonight. But then, their Alpha Asher has always been known for his surprises.

"Alpha, you’re back," Nigel said, straightening to attention. He was Jeremiah’s gamma and Asher’s third in command.

"Where’s Jeremiah?" Asher asked, surveying the group.

There was a subtle pause, followed by a quick, uneasy glance that passed between Nigel and the others, an action that did not go unnoticed by Asher.

"He’s upstairs," Nigel replied, carefully. "We’re the ones on patrol tonight."

"Alright," Asher said.

He could sense they were withholding something, but said nothing. Whatever it was, he would find out anyway.

Without another word, Asher turned and made his way toward the West House. The front doors opened easily for him, as though the very building had missed him.

Once inside, the house prefect, Benjamin Holden, noticed him immediately. "Welcome back, Alpha Asher," he said respectfully.

Asher acknowledged him with a single nod, not breaking his stride. Although his boots made no sound against the polished floorboards, his domineering presence reverberated through every corner of the hall.

He ascended the stairs, and paused briefly on the floor where his purple flower had once lived. If only she was still around, he would have paid her a visit. Nevertheless, he was not discouraged. It would not be long now; claiming his queen would definitely happen.

Asher moved on, climbing higher, until he reached the top floor. He didn’t even bother knocking, simply shoving the door open, the sound echoing like a thunderclap.

Jeremiah, quick as ever despite his condition, bolted upright, only to flinch and falter, pain flashing across his face as he dropped to his knees.

"You’re back, Alpha," he rasped, lowering his head in submission.

Asher stepped in, closing the door quietly behind him. Then he turned on the light, the glow falling across Jeremiah’s face, and his eyes narrowed at once.

He moved slowly until he crouched down in front of him. Jeremiah kept his head bowed until Asher reached forward and lifted his chin with a single finger, forcing their eyes to meet.

Jeremiah didn’t need to explain, the bruises said it all. Even with a werewolf’s quick healing, it was obvious he’d taken a serious beating.

"I’m sorry I failed you," Jeremiah said, his voice tight with shame.

"Which of them did this?" Asher asked softly, but his tone was underlined with a dangerous current.

There was a beat of silence before Jeremiah answered. "All of them."

Asher nodded in understanding.

"They wanted to know your whereabouts..." Jeremiah’s voice trembled. "I swear, I didn’t tell them anything. But they suspect it’s related to Violet. I would never betray—"

"Shh." Asher hushed him gently, placing a hand on the side of his neck.

Jeremiah practically froze as his Alpha leaned forward, pressing his forehead to his. It was not an act of weakness, but a rare moment of acknowledgment. Of loyalty truly honored.

Asher shut his eyes for a moment, breathing in the smell of blood and anger.

When he did open them again, those slit-pupil eyes held the promise of vengeance.

"Thank you for your sacrifice. You’ll be avenged."

Jeremiah’s throat bobbed, gratitude and pride swelling in him at Asher’s vow.

Then Asher stood, and Jeremiah followed him.

Asher had intentionally left his phone and vanished without a trail, ensuring the other Alphas couldn’t trace him. But now, he wanted news, specifically about his "little human." So it was not surprising his next question was about her.

"I trust my little human is safe and well?" he asked, a trace of anticipation slipping into his tone.

Jeremiah’s face went pale. He gulped audibly. "About that..."

*********

Elsie Lancaster was having the best sleep of her life when something about the air felt wrong. Groggy and half-aware, she pried her eyes open, only to freeze at the sight of a figure looming near her bed. For a second, she thought it was a dream, until she recognized that face.

Asher.

Her eyes went wide, and she barely drew in a gasp before he moved. The bastard grabbed the spare pillow at her side and pressed it down over her face with terrifying force.

The world turned black.

Elsie tried to scream, but it never made it past her lips, instead, she was choked, and crushed beneath the weight of cotton.

Her hands shot up, clawing at Asher in panic. She kicked wildly beneath the covers, her legs thrashing, and her nails digging into his arms, his chest—anything she could reach. But it didn’t matter.

Asher was a powerful Alpha, and she was just an ordinary female wolf. Even when her claws found his flesh and drew blood, he refused to ease up. The pillow stayed firmly over her mouth and nose, and her chest burned with the raw panic of suffocation.

So this is it, her mind raced. This was how she was going to die, strangled by one of her would-be suitors.

This was clearly retribution for messing with Violet. Elsie never thought Asher would actually touch her, not when she was covered by the Alpha King. Yet clearly, she’d underestimated him. Asher was crazier than she realized.

Just when her vision began to blacken and Elsie truly believed this was the end, as if he had been timing the whole process, Asher released her.

Coughing and spluttering, Elsie tossed the pillow aside. She gulped air like a drowning victim suddenly saved from the deep. Elsie clutched at her throat, her chest heaving as oxygen flooded back into her starved lungs.

By the time she finally caught her breath and looked around, Asher was gone. At first, Elsie was tempted to believe it was a nightmare the asshole planted in her mind. Except when she looked down, there was dark blood caked beneath her nails.

No, this was no dream. It was terrifyingly real.

Asher Nightshade just sent her a message.

He was back.