Even curled up like that, there's nothing docile about her. She radiates defiance wrapped in vulnerability. And, damn, if it doesn't keep stoking the fire in my blood.
Asher, the master of calculated optics, eases the tension in his usual quiet, disciplined way. He steps back, half sits against the liquor cabinet behind him. Casual, but still in control. Just dialed down enough to look less like a threat.
So predictable.
I stay planted where I am, watching her squirm beneath my gaze, feeling her unease. Her heat.
"We got off on the wrong foot," Asher says.
"You don't say," I mutter.
"We'll start over." He ignores me, of course. That's his thing. "I'm Ewan Asher Darrow. You can call me Asher."
He gestures toward me. "This is my brother, Kayden Darrow. I assume you knew at least something about him when you two… met."
Met.
I roll my eyes at that. That night was many things—explosive, twisted, nearly fatal—butmet?
That's generous.
I don't correct him, though. Let him run the good-cop routine. Let her think she'ssafe-ish.
Because when it's my turn again, I'll remind her what kind of game we're really playing.
Asher
"What's your name?" I ask, testing the waters. Seeing if she's softened.
She doesn't sit like a victim. Not curled up in fear, nor folded in on herself with guilt or panic. She's planted sideways on the couch, legs tucked, arms crossed, eyes tracking both of us like she's still working out her next move. Attack or retreat.
"Sage," she says at last.
I nod. A start.
I wish Kayden would step back, give her some air. But he's locked in. Circling. Pushing. Enjoying himself too damn much.
But I know my brother. This isn't just revenge. He's pretending it is, but this is a collision. Old blood and something new—unresolved and dangerous. It's spiraling, and I can feel it slipping out of control. I need to de-escalate before it tips into chaos again.
"Sage," I echo. "All right. I don't know how you ended up in these woods or what exactly happened, but I'll start from our side. Do you know where you are?"
She glances out the rain-drenched window. The storm is still hammering the trees.
"Middle-of-nowhere Maine," she says flatly.
Kayden smirks. "She's got that right."
I ignore him. Keep my voice steady. "You're in a town called Briar Hollow. I live here. So do a number of other supernaturals who've built a life here. It's a refuge."
Her eyes narrow slightly, still skeptical.
"Maybe we can help you," I continue, "since you're clearly running from something."
She tilts her head a fraction. "So what? You're some kind of good vampire?"
"I try to be," I say simply. No sugar. Just truth.
There's doubt in her eyes. Fear, too, though she's doing a decent job burying it under that steady gaze.
