I nod, lips pressed tight. "That's what scares me. That I might not even realize it's happening. That I could become… a ticking bomb to anyone who's near me. Another reason to use that bus ticket."
Kayden growls. "I swear to the fucking moon, I'm gonna find that ticket and rip it to shreds."
Asher ignores him, eyes on mine, voice calm. "All right. If that's the risk, it gives us a clear direction. We can look for ways to shield you. At the very least, weaken the influence. That's something concrete to work with."
He offers a faint smile. "It's a ticking bomb we can defuse. I would know, since I've worked with explosives before."
I crack a smile in return. Damn them both. They're trying. And it feels good to be worth trying for.
"I'm still keeping the ticket," I say, lifting my glass again.
"As you should," Asher replies, as he finally tosses the towel away and mercifully puts on a shirt. "Hold on to it as long as you want, Sage. Thank you for telling us all this. It matters. Not just for you. Darius's actions, his plans, whatever they are, could affect all of our lives, sooner or later."
I sip more of the drink, letting the warmth settle in my chest while my thoughts refuse to do the same. I opened up. Told them the truth, or at least a version of it. But there's still more buried deeper, things I can't hand over. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
A sudden growl from my stomach interrupts the spiral. Right. I haven't eaten anything since that granola bar hours ago.
I reach for my backpack and pull out the sad excuse for dinner—those dollar store instant meal trays. "At least I'm a self-sufficient guest," I announce, holding them up like some kind of badge of independence.
Kayden makes a face like I just unwrapped roadkill. "All right, I don't eat food anymore, but even I know that's an abomination."
Asher frowns in agreement and steps forward, plucking the boxes from my hands with that effortless confidence of his. "You're not eating this. Not under my roof."
I sigh, already defeated. "You two are so damn stubborn. You know that, right?"
They glance at each other with perfectly synchronized smugness.
"Oh, we know," Asher says calmly.
"Not always a bad thing," Kayden adds, propping his arm on the counter like he's posing for a supernatural GQ shoot. "Especially when we agree. And we definitely agree that your dinner belongs in a landfill."
In the kitchen, Asher chucks the boxes straight into the trash with no hesitation. Then he rolls up his sleeves and starts pulling ingredients from the fridge—onions, eggs, herbs—prepping everything with ease and confidence.
Meanwhile, Kayden launches into a dramatic retelling of how he once tried to cook a steak and nearly set a hotel on fire. I half-listen, half-watch Asher move through the kitchen. He probably cooked for his unit back in the day. Or maybe for someone else, long ago.
A homemade dinner in a house full of vampires, where you're not on the menu—not something I thought existed.
But here I am.
What else might I be wrong about?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Asher
After dinner, I grab a set of fresh towels and head toward Sage's room. A few firm knocks go unanswered. The room's empty. Window cracked open. And then… the unmistakable scent of marijuana drifting in from outside.
I set the towels on the bed and follow the trail. She's perched on the rooftop, legs crossed, oversized sweater hugging her form, a small roll burning between her fingers as she gazes up at the stars.
I clear my throat.
She turns fast, caught, then softens into a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I hope this isn't against house policy. I've been tense… and this helps."
"As long as you don't set the roof on fire," I say, stepping up and pulling myself out to join her, "and… share."
She lifts the joint and passes it over. "Didn't peg you for the type."
I take it, inhale once, let the smoke ease into my lungs. "I'm not. But it dulls the edge just enough." After a pause I ask, "You okay?"
