Page 21 of Finn (Vampire Vows #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY

GAEL/ ASHER

GAEL

Gael gritted his teeth as Bram hauled him up the stone steps to Beric’s estate.

The heavy oak doors loomed ahead, and with every step closer, his dread deepened.

His chest still ached where the silver bullets had punched through him, a phantom burn that lingered despite his rapid healing.

The humiliation stung worse than the wounds, though. Gael hated himself for it, for playing dead.

He’d fallen to the ground like a coward, clutching at the pain, while that smug hunter probably smiled in smug satisfaction.

The memory of it churned in his gut, his fists clenching as Bram shoved the doors open.

“Move,” Bram growled, his tone impatient.

Gael stumbled inside, dragging himself upright as much as his battered body allowed.

Beric’s office was at the end of the long, silent corridor.

The estate was eerily quiet tonight, the usual murmur of voices and footsteps absent.

It felt like the walls themselves were holding their breath.

He dreaded this moment more than he’d ever admit. Facing Beric after a failure was always dangerous, but this… This was worse.

When Bram pushed the office door open, Gael was immediately greeted by the oppressive weight of Beric’s presence.

His sire sat behind his massive desk, bathed in the golden glow of the lamp.

His hands were steepled in front of him, his expression unreadable.

Gael hesitated at the threshold, his stomach twisting.

“Enter,” Beric said, his voice like ice.

Gael stepped inside, swallowing hard.

He felt Bram’s presence lingering in the doorway, and silently seethed. Bram was probably soaking this all up. His failure.

Beric didn’t look up, his cold gaze fixed on a sheet of paper on his desk.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Gael shifted his weight, willing himself not to fidget.

Finally, Beric’s eyes lifted, pinning Gael in place. “Report.”

Gael straightened, biting back the wince that threatened to betray him.

He couldn’t hide anything from Beric. So he told him everything.

“I had them but a new player turned up. A Guild hunter named Asher intervened,” he began, his voice steady despite the humiliation clawing at him. “He shot me with silver. Twice.”

Beric raised a brow, the faintest flicker of disappointment crossing his face.

“I... I played dead,” Gael admitted, the words sour on his tongue. “It was the only way to avoid death.”

Beric’s expression didn’t change, but the weight of his scrutiny bore down on Gael like a physical force.

“They escaped,” Gael continued, forcing the words out. “Gabriel and his lover. Together.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Beric leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping once against the desk.

Gael hated that sound, hated the cold calculation in Beric’s eyes.

“You played dead,” Beric repeated, his tone devoid of emotion.

Gael’s jaw tightened. “It was the only way.”

“The only way,” Beric echoed softly, his gaze sharpening.

For a moment, Gael’s emotions threatened to betray him.

He thought of Gabriel, of the way he’d stood by that human, defiant even as the odds stacked against them.

There was a part of Gael, a small, hidden part, that couldn’t help but admire it.

But then there was Asher. The memory of the hunter’s smug face, the way he’d humiliated Gael, made his blood boil.

He hated him with every fiber of his being. That human had no right to walk away victorious.

“I failed,” Gael admitted, his voice low.

Beric’s eyes narrowed, his fingers steepling once more. “Yes. You did.”

The finality of those words hit Gael like a physical blow. His hands clenched at his sides, his mind racing.

“I can fix this,” he said quickly, desperation leaking into his tone. “Give me another chance.”

Beric said nothing, his cold gaze piercing through Gael.

“Please,” Gael added, his pride crumbling under the weight of Beric’s silence.

Finally, Beric leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was sharp as a blade.

“You’ve humiliated yourself and me with this failure. Tell me, Gael, why should I give you another chance?” Beric asked.

Gael’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to meet Beric’s gaze.

“Because I won’t let them win. Not Gabriel. Not that hunter. I’ll bring both their heads to you,” Gael said.

Beric’s lips curved into a faint, cruel smile. “And how do you plan to do that, when you’ve already proven yourself incapable?”

Gael’s pride flared, his desperation giving way to anger.

“Because I’ll learn from this. I won’t underestimate them again. Gabriel and that hunter humiliated me, but I’ll turn that humiliation into strength. I swear it,” Gael promised.

Beric leaned back, his expression thoughtful. The silence stretched, suffocating and endless, before he finally spoke.

“Very well,” he said. “One more chance, Gael. Do not waste it.”

Relief flooded Gael’s chest, but it was quickly tempered by the weight of Beric’s warning. He nodded, his jaw tight.

“I won’t,” Gael said.

Beric’s cold smile returned. “See that you don’t.”

Gael turned to leave, his body tense and his mind racing.

As he stepped into the corridor, Bram gave him a questioning look, but Gael ignored it.

The memory of Asher’s face burned in his mind, fueling the fire in his chest. He wouldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

ASHER

The training grounds were quieter than usual.

Asher stood near the edge, leaning against the sturdy railing as he watched the younger recruits sparring below.

The clang of swords and the occasional barked orders from the trainers filled the air, but it all felt distant, like white noise muffled by the weight in his chest.

Finn was gone.

No matter how many missions he took, how many targets he eliminated, that fact lingered like a raw wound.

His brother had made his choice, and in doing so, he’d severed ties not just with the Guild, but with him.

A pang of anger flared up, sharp and bitter.

He’d tried to save Finn, to bring him back to reason, but Gabriel had sunk his claws too deep. Damn that vampire.

A voice interrupted his thoughts. “Asher, I knew I’d find you here.”

Asher turned his head to see Donovan, standing with his arms crossed.

There was a faint edge of frustration in his brother’s voice, but mostly it was curiosity.

“Just thinking,” Asher muttered.

“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.” Donovan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Some of the other senior hunters are starting to wonder if your head’s in the game.”

Asher shot him a sharp look, his jaw tightening. “My head’s fine.”

“Is it? Because our little brother just ran off with a vampire, and now you’re standing here like a ghost.”

Of course, he told Donovan about Finn. Donovan also had a right to know, but he was starting to regret his decision.

Still, Donovan’s words hit harder than they should have, and Asher bit back a retort.

Instead, he pushed off the railing and strode past Donovan.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, though his tone left no room for argument.

He didn’t stop walking until he reached the Guild’s archive room.

The scent of old paper and leather-bound volumes greeted him as he pushed the door open.

The flickering light of a single lamp cast long shadows on the shelves, but Asher didn’t bother turning on more lights.

He liked the dimness. It matched his mood.

He approached the desk where he’d left his research scattered across its surface.

His hands moved automatically, sifting through reports and files, each one meticulously detailing vampires from Beric’s nest.

But it was one name that kept drawing his attention.

Gael.

Asher stared at the grainy photo clipped to one of the reports.

The vampire’s beautiful features and sharp eyes seemed to glare back at him, even in black and white.

Gael the Reaper, they called him. A monster known for leaving bodies behind in his wake. Always clean, precise, and brutal.

And somehow, he’d survived.

Asher clenched his fists at the memory of the woods. He’d gone back, intending to clean up the mess Finn had left behind.

To his disbelief, Gael’s body had been gone, the ground where he’d fallen marked only by faint traces of blood.

He’d checked for tracks, but the rain had washed most of them away. Still, he knew. That bastard’s alive.

The thought sent a chill down his spine, but it also stoked the fire in his gut.

Gael wasn’t just a vampire; he was one of Beric’s top enforcers. He wouldn’t take defeat lying down.

Asher pulled another report closer, scanning the text. Gael was known for his pride and his ruthlessness.

That was the danger.

He’d been humiliated, shot down by a human and left in the dirt.

Asher had made himself a target the moment he pulled that trigger. But that didn’t scare him.

Bring it on, he thought, his lips curling into a grim smile.

The door creaked open behind him, and Asher didn’t look up as Donovan stepped inside.

“You’re still at this?” Donovan asked, his tone skeptical.

“Just tying up loose ends,” Asher replied without looking away from the papers.

Donovan sighed and pulled out a chair, sitting across from him. “You’re obsessing over this Gael too much”

“Because he’s dangerous,” Asher pointed out.

“They’re all dangerous, Asher. That’s the job,” Donovan said.

Asher finally looked up, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t just another job. This one’s personal.”

Donovan studied him for a moment, then leaned back in his chair. “You’re worried about Finn,” Donovan observed.

“I’m not worried,” Asher said sharply, though the lie tasted bitter.

Donovan raised a brow but didn’t push the point.

“Fine. Let’s say Gael is alive. What do you plan to do about it?” Donovan asked.

Asher’s grip tightened on the edge of the table.

“I’ll handle it like I always do,” Asher told him.

“You sure you’re not just looking for a fight?” Donovan asked, sounding amused for some reason.

Asher glared at him. “If I was, you think I’d still be sitting here?”

Donovan’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained firm.

“Just be careful, Asher. This thing with Finn... I know it’s eating at you, but don’t let it blind you. The Guild’s already questioning your loyalty,” Donovan said.

“They can question me all they want,” Asher muttered.

Donovan sighed, standing up.

“You’re a good hunter, brother. Don’t waste that on something reckless,” Donovan reminded him.

Asher didn’t respond as Donovan left, the door clicking shut behind him.

He stared down at the reports again, his mind racing. Donovan didn’t get it.

Finn might have chosen his path, but that didn’t mean Asher would stop protecting him.

Even if it meant taking out every last threat that dared come near him.

And Gael?

Gael wasn’t just a threat. He was a storm waiting to break, and Asher had no intention of being caught off guard.