Blood on the Moon
Chapter 25: Snap

Asher

I sit at the desk in our bedroom, the lamp on and a book in front of me. I avoid being in our bed as much as possible, only there when Genevive insists, which isn’t much these days. I mostly sleep on the couch, which I vastly prefer.

It feels strange to refer to this place as ours because it no longer feels that way. Or, if I’m honest with myself, it was never ours. It’s always been hers.

“Asher,” she greets plainly as she enters the room without much other warning. I jump a little in my seat, startled by her presence and the broiling tone of her voice.

She’s mad about something.

Dare I even ask?

“Where were you today?” She asks.

“Out and about.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me!” She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “And look at me when I talk to you.”

I sigh, turning to face her, her eyes glowing orange. I used to think her wolf’s eyes looked like a sunset.

Now I know better.

“How do you know whether I’m lying or not?” I ask flippantly.

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“Because I had someone follow you.”

I raise my eyebrows, my heart dropping in my stomach.

“Follow me?” I ask in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Does she know about the cabin? Does she know about Rose?

Oh, Goddess, please don’t let her know about Rose.

“Oh, relax,” she scoffs as if I’m being dramatic about this clear violation of privacy. “He was already going the same direction you were, and I asked him if he could just see where you were headed.”

“Oh, so it was a he?” I chuckle. “Guess you rewarded him handsomely for the valuable information that I went to visit my family today.”

“Without my permission,” she seethes. “Don’t make it sound so innocent.”

“Why do you care if I visit my family?” I ask. “It’s been months since I last saw them face to face. I missed them. I only spent a day with them; it’s not as if I disappeared for weeks without warning. Are you worried they will find out something is wrong with our relationship and knock some sense into me?” I spit, standing as Cato takes more control. “Because they couldn’t say anything to me that I don’t already know.”

“You better watch what you’re saying,” she hisses. “And you need to change your attitude quickly, or else you will start regretting your decisions.”

“You mean you want me to return to how I was before?” I ask. “Helplessly in love with you and beholden to your every word?”

“Of course, I want you to be in love with me again!”

I huff, shaking my head as tears threaten to spill from my eyes. “Then why threaten me? Do you think that’s any way to win back someone’s love? No…” I pause. “That’s not love. That’s control.”

Her nose twitches, her eyes a blazing fury swirling in her eyes. I cringe, stepping back almost instinctively.

Shit, what have I done?

I shouldn’t have provoked her like this.

“I want you to sit in this room and think about the things you’ve said and where they’re going to lead you,” she snarls, her voice dripping with rage that fills my body with foreshadowed dread. “Because I feel you’ll change your tune once you get the picture.”

And, with that, she storms out of the room just as quickly as she came.

Seems like that’s how all of our conversations are ending these days.

I sigh, feeling a little better now that she’s gone. I swear, my body tenses up so horribly when she’s in the room that I have to take five minutes to decompress once she leaves. What is wrong with me?

I sit on the edge of the bed, burying my head in my hands. The blankets feel itchy and uncomfortable, but I don’t care. Everything feels awful.

I can feel my connection with her severing, like a guitar string wound tighter and tighter and tighter until eventually it…

It snaps.

My mark stings, and I hiss, putting my hand on it and feeling it burning with a blazing heat.

Is she cheating on me again? Right after she fought with me about where I’ve been going?

But this feels different… It’s a more stinging burn, like pins and needles, not searing hot.

And my heart doesn’t hurt quite as much; it’s as if I don’t feel her presence in my soul again. I feel more complete. When she marked me, she put a piece of her soul inside me, just a sliver. I always thought it was romantic that she wanted to give that to me, to claim me as hers, even if she didn’t want me to do that for her.

In hindsight, I believe it was just another way to control me. To literally have part of her with me at all times to control. To make it so she could hurt me from within.

But now?

I don’t feel it.

It’s as if we’ve rejected each other, but we haven’t. It's like the bond was never made at all.

I wonder if she feels this sensation as I do? Will she think I rejected her?

My heart races as I leap to my feet, rushing out the door to find her.

Goddess knows what she’ll do if she thinks I rejected her after she left. She’ll wreak havoc.

I feel panic rise in my veins, rushing through me as sweat pours down my forehead. I brace myself against the exterior wall of our house, the cool night air hitting me. It’s a relief, but not one that cures my lightheadedness.

I sink to the grass, my heart racing impossibly fast as my stomach churns.

Oh, Goddess, I feel like I’m dying. I gasp for breath, but my lungs are made of lead and refuse to move. I can’t breathe.

I can’t fucking breathe.

I scratch my neck, feeling hot and itchy all over. I tear my shirt off over my head, feeling trapped by it.

“Asher?”

I look to my right and watch Margaery rush toward me. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head feverishly as I bring my knees to my chest, curling in the fetal position, my mind racing.

I’m dying. This is where it ends.

“It’s okay, just take slow breaths,” Margaery soothes, rubbing my back gently. “Focus on your surroundings.”

“I-I can’t breathe!” I gasp, screwing my eyes shut.

“You’ll be okay, Asher,” she eases. “Focus on my voice. Focus on hearing my voice.”

“O-Okay,” I reply, my lips trembling as she continues speaking the same words over and over, her voice soft and motherly.

Eventually, I relax, lifting my head from between my knees and straightening my legs onto the grass, the blades pricking the backs of my calves. It’s a welcome feeling.

“I’m so sorry, Asher,” she relents. “I saw Gen storming off somewhere and figured you two got in a fight, so I was coming over to check on you.”

“Yeah,” I reply, still a little out of breath. “Someone followed me today and saw me going to my family’s place. I didn’t tell her about it.”

“Oh, Ash,” she sighs, gripping my shoulder. “It’s not good that she’s getting so suspicious of where you’re going.”

“I know,” I mumble. “Doesn’t help that I can’t force myself to play along with her antics anymore. I can’t bite my tongue like I used to.”

“I understand,” she replies, her voice small and quiet. “I’m at the end of my rope, too.”

I nod, leaning my cheek on the top of her head and giving her a quick kiss on the temple. “We’ll be alright, Marg,” I reassure her. “I just need to be more careful and control myself more. Doesn’t help that Cato is done with her bullshit now, too.”

“He is?” She asks, surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well,” she says, gripping my knee reassuringly. “I think the plan of you tailing her to figure out who she’s meeting with isn’t safe. Not when you’re in such a precarious situation with her doing the same to you. I can take that over.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I don’t want you to be in danger.”

“I’ll be careful,” she promises. “Seems like Gen’s been consumed by her anger toward you. She’s forgotten all about how much she hates me.” She chuckles softly, but not a real laugh. More like a laugh of disbelief that we’re even having this conversation in the first place.

We need to be smart. I can keep her occupied with her hatred towards me to keep the heat off you,” I offer. “That way, you’ll be clear to pursue whatever you think is going on.”

“But what about you?” She asks. “Won’t provoking her more put you in danger?”

“Any more than I’m already in?” I ask. “She wouldn’t be stupid enough to do anything that would spill over to the pack. She’s all about keeping her image secure. If the pack officials knew she was as unhinged as she is, they wouldn’t support her as much. And even if it does get bad and spillover, well, then at least I’ve goaded her into showing everyone her true colors.”

“While I dig up the behind-the-scenes dirt,” Margaery affirms. “I don’t hate this plan.”

“It’s the only one we’ve got,” I reply. “The only way to get out from under her thumb is to make her grip a little looser.”

“Understood,” she answers, rising to her feet. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

“Yeah,” I reply, following suit as I put my shirt back on. “I have a feeling she’ll sleep in one of her boy toy’s beds tonight. At least I’ll have some peace and quiet.”

“Alright,” Margaery answers, her voice hoarse and eyes filled with sympathy for me. I want to tell her to stop looking at me like that, with the kind of pity that makes me feel like the weak man Genevive tells me I am, but I don’t. It’s not her fault that she has a bleeding heart. “I love you, Ash.”

“I love you, too,” I reply. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

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