Shadow Bite || WATTYS 2017

Chapter Thirty-Two

A scream leaves me as my stomach jolts and Asher soars through the air, running in inhuman speed. Thuds and rustles on the ground with his every calculated step, wind whipping my face, the smell of a burning fire somewhere beyond. Everything becomes too much and a headache forms in my head. I feel a wave of nausea rise in me and I bury my face into Asher's chest as he keeps on running, and running, and running...

Suddenly, we're at a stand still. I carefully turn my head and a gasp leaves me. We are in the middle of the beautiful field, standing in front of a tent and a magnificent bonfire. Asher gently puts me down onto my feet, and I hear his retreating footsteps. I'm too engrossed into the fire, and I take multiple steps towards its orangey glow. The smoke rises in twirls into the night sky, and bits of ashes fly around me, landing on my hands and onto the grass. The nightlife is active around us, with the sounds of buzzing insects and owls from the surrounding trees.

"Do you like it?"

I spin around to view Asher's body coming towards me, fully clothed. I'm surprised when I notice the sheepish look on his face, almost as if he's... nervous. What happened to that cocky confidence he had just moments before.

"If this is a trick, I'm going to throw up on you." I warn. He chuckles and tilts his head, coming closer.

"It's not, I promise. But do you like it?"

I nod, still a bit suspicious, and he brings my hands into his, looking down at me with a swirl wind of emotions reflecting in his ocean eyes. I feel myself drowning in them, but I don't want to escape. He gently tugs me down by the fireplace and I feel the soft grass beneath me. Without wasting a second, I'm pulled into his hard chest, and I tense involuntarily. His fingers lightly trace my arms, and I feel myself relaxing against him between his legs, bringing all of my weight against him. He settles himself comfortably against the smooth surface of a rock, and brings his arms around me. I lie my head back against his chest and will myself to close my eyes. We sit there in a comfortable silence, listening and looking at the crackling of the fire, the daunting shadows dancing around it like a ritual.

"My mother." He begins, and I open my eyes at the crack of his voice. I tilt my head upwards and he meets my questioning gaze, "She used to call me Ash all the time. It was only her, only her."

I close my eyes with embarrassment. "I'm sorry Ash- Asher, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"When she was killed, I became someone reserved, someone stone-cold, someone unforgiving. I still keep up that facade to my pack to fend off rivalry, but sometimes - it's..."

I squeeze his hand to signal that I understand, and offer him a small smile. "I won't call you that again, but don't think of your mother as someone who was... killed. Think of her as the lovely woman who brought you up and cherished you with love and affection. Think of her as your guardian angel."

He sighs and rests his head against the rock. "That's what I tried to do, Camilla. But then I met you..." He looks at me again, and I'm stunned by the sudden determination in his eyes. "No one ever called me that ever again, and I got used to it as being a punishment, like a curse word. But when you..." He runs a hand through his hair with frustration, searching for words. Meanwhile, I'm frozen, staring at him, completely paralysed. "...when you called me by that name, it didn't sound like a curse. It sounded, beautiful. You make me feel like I deserve to remember my mother, Camilla. And you're the first one who's ever made me feel that way."

I'm too stunned to say anything, too surprised to think straight. "Ash, I-"

Shit.

Poop.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

-No." He cuts me off, gently tracing a finger down my cheek. "Call me whatever you want, it sounds perfect coming from you."