Home > Asher (Wolves of Winter's Edge #3)(6)

Asher (Wolves of Winter's Edge #3)(6)
Author: T.S. Joyce

“I saw the lights go out.”

She was looking up in his general direction, but couldn’t see in the dark like him. God, she was pretty, her face all upturned like that, her hair cascading around her shoulders, lips pursed in confusion, delicate eyebrows arched. The others were talking low around them, but Asher couldn’t make out a single word as he stood here, trapped under her soft hands. He pushed her hair back off her shoulder just because he could, just because he wanted to feel its softness.

Could he kiss her? Would she let him experiment? Would she let him touch his lips to hers if she knew how dangerous it was? He shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop staring at her full bottom lip. He wanted to suck the lip gloss off it.

Slowly, he cupped her cheek and leaned forward, only to have a squealing Blaire rip Ashlyn out of his arms.

They were hugging now, but Ashlyn’s searching gaze was still in his direction. She wore the cutest little frown he’d ever seen, as though she was as baffled as he felt right now.

What had possessed him to almost kiss her?

And what had possessed her to let him touch her cheek and not flinch away?

The lights came on, and the moment was ruined with him wincing. Probably best. His eyes would be light silver right now, and even though Ashlyn was talking to Blaire, her gaze was still on him.

Utterly confused by how urgently his wolf wanted to scrabble toward the strange beauty, he swallowed a growl and made his way out the back door as fast as he could. And only when he reached the woods, the cabin far behind him, did he turn around. The ghosts were gathering again, watching him stare after Ashlyn.

Little mystery all dolled up in pink and blue.

Pink and blue. Dark Asher, and she was a colorful siren that begged him to test his boundaries.

Dangerous creature.

Ignoring the ghosts around him, Asher pulled off his T-shirt and shucked his pants. He needed to do something with the energy that hummed through his body. His fingers tingled where he’d cupped her cheek. So warm and soft, and she’d trusted him to touch her in the dark.

His body wanted her. His head knew better.

The Dark Wolf exploded from his body and hit the snow on all fours.

Ashlyn was a delicate flower, brightly colored to attract, and he was the storm that would rip her to shreds.

He—Asher Striker, The Taker—was better off far away from such fragile beauty.

Chapter Three

Asher had almost kissed her.

Right?

Ashlyn was trying to focus on her reunion with Blaire, but she was having trouble keeping her attention off the back door where Asher had disappeared.

“Ashlyn! Have you heard a word I’ve said?” Blaire asked.

Ashlyn blinked hard and dragged her gaze back to her best friend…who somehow looked completely different and exactly the same. Her hair was still the same copper-red, and she wore it in long beach waves, but her cheeks were rosier, and her eyes looked a couple shades lighter than she remembered. There were other things, too, differences, but for the life of her, Ashlyn couldn’t put her finger on what.

“You seem…” Ashlyn narrowed her eyes, searching for the right word.

Blaire’s eyes flashed with worry. Just an instant of concern before she was smiling again. It was a plastered smile, though. “I seem happy?”

Ashlyn parted her lips to say “no,” but yelped instead as Blaire dragged her over to a tall man with spiked-up dirty-blond hair and bright green eyes.

“Gentry, this is Ashlyn, my best friend. Ashlyn, this is…my Gentry.”

My Gentry.

Blaire and Gentry were looking at each other so openly, so lovingly, Ashlyn clung a little more desperately to her hatred of him. Whatever was happening to Blaire here, it was bad. Gentry had stolen her friend away, kept her at this commune of giant—albeit sexy—brothers, and had made Blaire forget her entire life, including her best friend.

Maybe she was on drugs.

Ashlyn pulled Blaire’s face toward her and spread her eyelids wider with her fingers, checking for pupil dilation.

Blaire swatted her hand and laughed. “Stop it, Ash.”

“Remember that one time you ate that pot cookie, and then you went paranoid crazy for a day, and nobody could find you?” Ashlyn asked.

“I’m not on pot cookies!”

Ashlyn sniffed her for weed just in case, but she just smelled like vanilla, like always.

“Uuuh, nice to meet you,” Gentry said, offering her his hand.

Ashlyn glared at it and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know what you’ve promised her, but this is all ridiculous.” She waved her hand around the cabin. “Blaire has a good job—”

“Which I’m still working, just from here.”

“—and a good life—”

“I was divorced with zero dates coming my way and an urge to buy, like, seventeen cats.”

“—and the best friend ever, and she just packed up and moved. No! You didn’t even pack up. You made me do it! You couldn’t even come back to say goodbye and get your stuff? I had to pack up your big-ass house, and I had to talk to your stupid-face ex about his stupid record collection, and I’ve been falling apart at home, and you aren’t there.” Ashlyn hadn’t meant for the last part to happen, the part where her words turned to a sob and her shoulders hunched. “And I miss you,” she whispered through tightening vocal cords. “So, whatever is happening here, I want it to stop. People don’t do this. Especially not safe, careful people like you, Blaire. They don’t just go on vacation and never come back to their real life! They don’t just leave their friends behind.” God, she sounded pathetic, but there it was. All on the table so Blaire could see the error of her ways.

   
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