Page 24

NINETEEN

ASHER

A sher adjusted his platinum watch as he leaned against a lamp post, listening to Caleb's report on the wolf shifters they'd encountered last night.

"Border trackers found where they entered our territory," Caleb said, his blue tie fluttering in the evening breeze. "Pack markings suggest they're from the Delta clan."

Asher's jaw tightened. "Reginald Delta always did have an issue with my father's leadership. Seems he's passing that grudge to me."

"Want me to send a diplomatic warning or something less...diplomatic?" A dangerous smile played at the edges of Caleb's mouth.

Before Asher could answer, a wave of disturbance rippled through the festival crowd.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up – an instinctive reaction to brewing trouble.

The sound of The Firebreathers' signature rock song abruptly cut off mid-chorus, replaced by a growing rumble of angry voices.

"Something's wrong." Asher straightened, scanning the crowd. His gaze swept over the area where he'd left Danica, finding nothing but empty space.

The primal part of him roared to life. Where is my mate?

People were converging toward the VIP section, where council members had been enjoying reserved seating. Now they stood clustered together, their faces twisted with shock and fury.

And in the center of it all – Danica.

Her red silk dress made her easy to spot in the growing crowd of agitated townspeople. Even from this distance, her body language spoke of fear. She stood frozen, her eyes wide with panic, like prey surrounded by predators.

Asher moved without conscious thought, cutting through the crowd with the authority of a natural apex predator. Bodies shifted automatically, giving way to their Alpha without question.

"What is happening here?" His voice cut through the chaos like a blade, low and controlled but carrying the undeniable weight of command.

No one answered immediately. Danica's eyes found his, filled with relief and something that looked disturbingly like guilt. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Asher stepped beside her, sliding a protective arm around her waist. The message was clear to everyone watching—she was under his protection. The dragon inside him, still buzzing with energy from the night flight, pushed toward the surface, eager to shield his mate with wings and fire if necessary.

"I asked a question." His words vibrated with barely controlled power. "And I expect an answer. Now."

His eyes swept the circle of council members, their angry faces illuminated by the festival lights.

On the ground lay the crumpled form of Garron, the eldest council member, his lips tinged an unnatural blue.

The unmistakable scent of death hung in the air, mixed with something acrid and familiar that made Asher's nostrils flare.

Dragon's bane.

He pulled Danica closer, feeling tremors running through her body. The watch on his wrist ticked steadily, marking time as his world threatened to implode.

"Someone," he growled, "had better start talking."

The silence grew heavier as accusations thickened the air. Asher felt Danica trembling against him. His dragon clawed close to the surface, desperate to break free and incinerate anyone threatening his mate.

Councilman Thorne, his silver hair blowing in the evening breeze, finally spoke. "Miss Ulrich was seen bringing the drinks to the VIP table alone." His voice quavered with a mixture of grief and outrage. "Serving them herself."

"I wasn't alone," Danica whispered, her voice barely audible. "Joni was helping me. She suggested we restock the table. She's the one who poured the wine into the glasses."

Councilman Davis stepped forward, his broad frame blocking the festival lights and casting a long shadow. "Joni isn't here. No one saw her with you. They only saw you handling the drinks that killed our most respected elder."

The crowd rippled with more angry murmurs. Asher's arm tightened protectively around Danica's waist, and he could feel her rapid breathing. His heart thundered in his chest while his mind raced through possibilities. Where the hell was Joni?

"We can't let this stand!" someone shouted from the back.

"Lock her up now!" called another voice.

"She's an outsider—probably working with the wolves who attacked last night!"

Davis seized the momentum. "We should detain her immediately. She's clearly a threat to every townsperson in Ectorius."

Asher's vision went red. The shift itched beneath his skin, his temperature spiking as the dragon within demanded release. He fought for control, knowing that giving in to rage now would only make things worse.

"She's destroyed our unity," Councilwoman Reed added, her eyes brimming with tears. "We welcomed her, and she?—"

"ENOUGH!" Asher shouted, his voice penetrating through the chaos. The crowd fell instantly silent, years of conditioning to their Alpha's command impossible to ignore.

"You want justice?" His eyes swept across the gathered faces, challenging anyone to meet his gaze. Few could. "Then do this right. Not in chaos. Not in front of the whole damn town."

He released Danica, stepping forward to address the circle of council members directly. The crowd instinctively gave him space, sensing the barely contained power emanating from their leader.

"Garron deserves more than a spectacle." Asher gestured toward the fallen elder, whose body had been respectfully covered with a tablecloth. "And this town deserves leaders who think before they act."

Davis bristled. "What do you propose, Alpha? That we simply let her?—"

"Send her to New Orleans under watch," Asher interrupted. "Not as an admission of guilt, but to preserve our justice system while we honor Garron properly."

The council members exchanged uncertain glances.

"We don't let grief and fear decide our law," Asher continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "Garron deserves better. So does this town."

Though his face betrayed nothing, inside Asher's thoughts raced like wildfire. I know you didn't do this, Danica. Someone set you up, and I will find them.

After several tense moments, Thorne nodded reluctantly. "We'll postpone judgment until after the proper mourning period. A formal hearing will follow."

Relief coursed through Asher's veins, though he kept his expression impassive. He turned back to Danica, whose face had gone ghostly white in the moonlight. Her eyes were wide pools of confusion and fear.

He pulled her close one last time, bending to whisper against her ear. "I will fix this. You are my mate, and nothing will ever change that. I will protect you with everything I have." His lips grazed her earlobe. "Trust me."

He stepped back, a public show of separation that tore at his insides. His dragon roared in protest, demanding he sweep her into his arms and fly far from here. But centuries of dragon tradition demanded he stay with his people in their time of crisis.

A male clutch member named Hunter, who would maintain careful watch over Danica in New Orleans, materialized at his side. "I'll make sure she's safe, brother," he promised quietly.

Asher gave a nearly imperceptible nod as Danica turned to walk away from the festival.

Her shoulders were hunched, and the festival lights caught the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes.

His every instinct screamed to follow her, but he remained rooted in place, a statue of authority while his heart trailed after her retreating form.

The festival grounds emptied in somber silence, townspeople leaving in small groups, their whispers carried away by the night breeze. What should have been a night of celebration had become a night of mourning.

As the last lights dimmed, Asher stood alone in the empty square, staring at the spot where Garron had fallen. His fists clenched at his sides as he made a silent vow.

Whoever did this will burn.

The front door of the Ectorius mansion exploded inward, wood splintering as Asher's fist connected with it. He didn't bother with the lights. Darkness suited his mood perfectly.

"Goddamn it!" The roar echoed through the empty halls, a sound more dragon than human.

Heat pulsed beneath his skin, the shift threatening to overtake him. He welcomed it. Fire would be simpler than this agony gnawing at his chest.

Asher seized a crystal decanter from the entry table and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the stone fireplace, sending shards glittering across the hardwood floor like fallen stars.

"Three hundred years of dragon tradition and they can't recognize innocence when it's standing right in front of them?" His fist crashed into the mahogany-paneled wall, leaving a splintered crater.

Blood smeared the wood where his knuckles had split open, but Asher barely noticed. Physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache spreading through him.

He stalked into the living room, where just hours ago he'd held Danica after their moment of passion. Her scent still lingered there, now tainted with the metallic edge of his blood.

The memory of her face as she'd been escorted away, pale and stricken, flashed before him. He'd promised to protect her, and he'd failed spectacularly.

"She planned a fucking children's party for someone who couldn't even remember her name," he snarled to the empty room, sweeping an arm across the coffee table. Books and decorative items crashed to the floor. "And they think she's a murderer?"

His dragon clawed at him, demanding release. Demanding retribution.

Asher grabbed a framed photograph of the town council, Garron in the center, stern and dignified. The glass cracked under his grip.

"She has more compassion in her little finger than half this town put together."

He hurled the frame against the wall, glass exploding outward.

"She fixed my disaster of a festival." His voice dropped low, ragged with emotion. "Fixed me."

The shift rippled across his back – scales pushing against skin, seeking freedom. Asher breathed deeply, forcing the dragon back inside. Burning his own house down wouldn't solve anything.

His feet carried him to the bedroom without conscious thought. The space where they'd shared passion and whispered confessions now felt cavernous and cold.

Asher yanked open the cabinet of his bedside bar, pulling out a bottle of bourbon worth more than most cars. He didn't bother with a glass.

As he sank onto the bed, something crinkled beneath him. A note rested on his pillow, folded neatly, in Danica's precise handwriting.

His heart stuttered as he unfolded it, her familiar scent rising from the paper.

Asher, I didn't want to ever leave you. But I know you did the right thing by sending me to New Orleans while you grieve your beloved council member Garron.

I never wanted to make things harder for you, only better, because you deserve everything. I know you don’t believe I could hurt anyone—and I’m grateful for that.

But right now, your town doesn’t want me as your mate. They see me as a mistake and a threat to your perfect community. And I won’t be the reason your leadership is questioned, or the reason your town fractures.

With each line, his grip tightened on the paper until his knuckles whitened. The words blurred as something hot and unfamiliar pricked behind his eyes.

I came here to help you, and now someone is dead. Whether I’m found guilty or not, I’ve become the center of something I don’t fully understand yet, and that terrifies me.

You’ve always protected your people without question. Now I have to do the same for you—by walking away from us and what we have, no matter how perfect it is. Just know, I care about you more than I can explain. Maybe that’s why I’m doing this. —Danica

"No." The word escaped him as a broken whisper. "No, damn it!"

The bottle slipped from his fingers, bourbon pooling on the hardwood. He barely noticed.

She was leaving him. Not because she was afraid for herself, but to protect him. To protect his position.

His first instinct was to shift, to fly to New Orleans faster than any car could take him, and to find her and bring her home where she belonged.

His fingers were already fumbling for his phone when a colder, more rational voice whispered through his mind. What if she's safer away from him?

Dragon politics were lethal. Someone had killed Garron and framed Danica with practiced precision. That someone wanted him weakened and isolated from his mate. And as long as Danica remained tied to him, she'd be a target.

Asher sank to his knees beside the bed, crushing her note against his chest. The dragon inside him keened with loss.

"What kind of protector am I," he whispered into the darkness, "if I can't even keep her safe in my own town?"

For the first time since his father died, Asher Ectorius, Alpha of the Ectorius dragon clutch, wept uncontrollably.