He gently squeezed her hand. “So this is where we are now, Abi. If this is not a life you want—and I fully understand why it wouldn’t be—you have the option to walk away. I don’t. As much as I don’t know if I’m prepared for this role, or if I can even lead Santina, my father made this decision with full confidence and to abdicate would be to dishonor him. I won’t do it.”
Abi smiled sadly. She loved the determination in his voice, and she knew he could lead Santina, even if he didn’t—but there were other things to consider. “Asher, even if I wanted to, there are so many concerns with me being Queen: my past, for one, not to mention a possible fallout with Lamberi. I don’t want to bring you more harm. I am the worst person to consider for the role,” Abi said as tears stung her eyes. She looked away. She’d considered these things from the moment she’d heard he was King, but only now did the realization set in. She would need to let him go.
“Those are all the reasons to not, but what about the reasons to?” Asher asked. “Abi, look at me. You’re brave, far braver than anyone I know. You’re compassionate, you’re caring, and—equally important for the role—you can handle pressure. All those reasons are far more important than the others. A falling out with Lamberi is possible, if not likely, regardless of our relationship,” Asher paused. “I won’t back down to Adani, Abi. They don’t get away with murdering Noah and my father, attempting to murder my mother, and kidnapping you. Not while I’m King.”
She didn’t respond, she couldn’t find the right words. She wanted him, too—she had since the moment they’d met—but she didn’t know how to be Queen. She didn’t know what would happen to IFRT, either, but that was a separate issue, because with her identity exposed in Adani, there were serious concerns and issues with her remaining as the leader anyway.
“If you want to help people—to serve—the role of queen will help you reach more than you’ll ever be able to help through IFRT. I need someone strong, Abi. And I want you,” he said.
Abi met his tortured eyes. It wasn’t a plea, but she knew he meant every word. Asher could do it alone, but he didn’t want to.
“Where do we even start?” she asked, suddenly feeling faint.
Asher gave her an odd look. “I have no fucking idea,” he said with a strained laugh.
Abi didn’t know if it was the wine going to her head or pure exhaustion, but she laughed heartily.
“One day at a time,” he said with a beautiful smile. “Or so that’s what everyone keeps telling me. I’m not asking for a forever commitment right now. I’m just asking you to give us a chance. Hell, we might not work out. You might get a few months into this and decide it isn’t what you want. And that’s fine—but please give us a chance. The first proper chance we’ve had.”
Asher’s eyes were like deep wells, pulling her in, and she was drowning in them.
Asher
His heart refused to beat as he waited patiently for her response. Abi nodded and a smile spread across her lips. “Let’s give us a chance,” she said.
Asher leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He’d never needed her more. Her lips parted and his tongue swept over hers. She tasted like wine—his favorite wine. His body burned for her, but he didn’t know how to hold her without hurting her. His lips trailed down her neck, but she pulled back when he reached her collarbone.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.
“Nothing,” she said, then scrunched up her nose. “I’d just rather have a shower before you kiss me any more. There’s only so much face wipes can do,” she said, shaking her head and looking away.
“Hey,” he said, turning her face back to him. “I’ll help you with the shower. Or I can get someone to do that,” he added quickly.
Abi waved her hand dismissively. “Just help me into the bathroom and give me ten minutes and I’ll be good. I’d rather not have anyone with me.”
He kissed her forehead. “Okay.” He grabbed the crutches that had been left standing against the living room wall and then helped her up. He would’ve carried her, but he wasn’t sure he could lift her without hurting her back.
Asher walked beside her as she hobbled into the bathroom. He dragged a chair in and positioned it next to the vanity, then found some clean towels and soap. “What else do you need?”
“A razor and something to sleep in,” she said.
“Easily done, give me a second,” he said, making sure she was sitting and comfortable before he left.
He strode toward his living quarters and found a T-shirt and boxers for her to wear, and then he grabbed a new razor from his bathroom. Security was watching him and followed him back to the guest quarters.
He closed the bathroom door behind him, giving them some privacy. “Anything else?” he asked.
She smiled. “No, all good. You can leave now,” she said.
Asher chuckled. “I get the hint. I’ll be right outside; yell out if you need anything,” he said before closing the door.
Asher refilled Abi’s glass and placed it beside the bed. He took his empty glass to the kitchen sink. He turned on the television in the bedroom and looked through the movies, but he muted the sound—he wanted to be able to hear Abi if she needed something.
He checked his watch and settled on the end of the bed, catching the end of a movie he’d seen many times, but he was barely watching it at all. His mind wandered, trying to visualize everything she had been through—and when his blood began to boil, he checked his phone. There was nothing from Jesse, and that was good news, he supposed.
Eventually, the bathroom door opened and Abi appeared, dressed in his T-shirt and boxers. Asher went to her, but she was handling the crutches like a pro.
“I’m actually pretty good at these things,” she said with a wry smile. “I sprained my ankle in high school and I was on crutches for a month, I think.”
And true to her word, she sped right past him.
“Are you tired?” Asher asked.
“Yeah,” she said, then looked pained. “I don’t know if I’ll sleep, though.”
Asher gave a sad smile. “That makes two of us. Let’s watch a movie.”
He helped her into bed, fighting to keep his anger under control as she winced before settling on her side, facing the middle of the bed. Asher stripped down to his boxers and slid in next to her. He wasn’t leaving her—not tonight. He needed to know she was safe.
“Come closer,” she whispered with heated eyes.
He moved into the center and she laid her cheek on his chest, rolling into him. Her leg slipped between his.
He took her hand, threading their fingers together.
“Comfortable?” he asked, kissing the crown of her head.
“Yes,” she said lazily. She placed a kiss on his bare chest.
She was home.
In his arms.
And he was never letting her go.
Asher awoke to the sound of Abi’s voice. She shifted restlessly beside him.
“Don’t touch me,” she said angrily, and Asher’s eyes snapped open.
He abruptly leaned away before he realized she was dreaming. Her words were mumbled, and through the light cast from the television, he could see her eyelids fluttering violently.
“Don’t touch me,” she repeated with more venom in her voice. Her knee slammed into his and Asher winced.
He didn’t know whether to wake her or let the dream pass—but he didn’t get the chance to make the decision.
Her fist flew at him as she screamed, “Don’t touch me!”
Her fist connected with the base of his throat, her knuckles crunching against his collarbone.
The air was knocked from Asher’s lungs, and he scrambled out of bed just as Jesse burst through the door with his weapon raised.
“What’s going on?” Jesse demanded, looking between them with wide eyes.
Asher was wheezing in a breath, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air. His hand went to his throat.
Abi’s e
yes opened and were filled with panic. She looked from Jesse to Asher, back to Jesse.
“Ash?” Jesse ran to his side. “Breathe,” he said, before shouting, “Get the doctor!”
Jesse looked to Abi. “What happened?” he growled.
Asher held up a hand, trying to slow down the situation but he was too out of breath to speak. Air seemed to be leaking from his throat but nothing was going back in.
“Give me . . . a . . . second,” Asher wheezed.
Asher massaged his neck, an instinctive move as he tried to relax his muscles. The walls shifted and he must’ve swayed because Jesse grabbed his arm, sitting him on the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong with him?” Abi asked hurriedly. She was clearly awake now, but Asher didn’t have the breath to explain it to anyone. She crawled across the bed but Jesse put his hand up, stopping her.
Slowly, air began to fill his lungs and he no longer felt like he was suffocating. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, sucking in deep breaths. The doctor rushed in, but Asher shot Jesse a pleading look, shaking his head.
“It’s okay, I can breathe,” Asher said.
Jesse’s eyebrows wove together. He looked between Asher and Abi again.
“Give me a minute,” Asher said, drawing a long breath, settling the adrenaline racing through his veins. He cleared his throat and drank a little water. It went down his throat, so he assumed no major damage had been done.
“Ash,” Jesse said, his voice a warning.
“A minute,” Asher repeated firmly.
“One minute,” Jesse said with narrowed eyes before leaving.
When the door closed, Asher turned to an alarmed Abi.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
Asher wanted to tread carefully, but he couldn’t explain what had happened without telling her the truth.
“You were dreaming,” he said.
The corner of her eyes creased and then her cheeks flushed. Was she embarrassed?
“Was I talking?” she asked tentatively.
“You said, ‘Don’t touch me.’”
Her eyes widened and then narrowed, like she was searching through her memories.
She shook her head. “I keep waking up feeling like I’ve been dreaming, but I can’t remember the dream. It started in the cells,” she said. She paused, and he saw the realization hit her. “Did you try and wake me?”
“No. I was contemplating whether I should do that, and then . . .” He didn’t want to tell her the truth, didn’t want to cause her any more pain.
“Did I strangle . . .?” Her voice trailed off.
Asher mustered a small smile. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “But you throw a nice punch.”
Her jaw fell open. “I punched you?” she asked, bending over like he’d just done the same to her. “In the throat?” She made a noise that sounded like a cry. “I could’ve killed you! I can’t be here, I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered in a rush, then moved, clearly forgetting about her ankle in the chaos of what had just happened.
She stood, hissing as she grabbed the bedside table. Asher rushed toward her.
“Stop, please. I’m okay,” he said with a rough voice, even though the air had returned to his lungs.
But Abi wouldn’t hear it. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Let me go,” she said, but Asher refused to release his grip.
“Don’t go. Please don’t,” Asher begged. “I haven’t slept properly since Noah died. I’ve heard nothing but your screaming echoing through the hallways since you were taken. Tonight was the first slice of peace I’ve had in weeks. Don’t leave me tonight. I’ll move to the edge of the bed, far away from your hands—but please don’t go.” He was begging and he meant every word. He knew she was right—if her fist had landed an inch higher she could’ve killed him—but he still didn’t want her to go.
Her eyes looked pained, tormented. “What was I saying?”
“Don’t touch me,” he repeated hoarsely.
She frowned, and her eyes drifted to the right like she was thinking it through. “I must’ve been dreaming about Lamberi,” she said, her voice sounding far away. “I don’t know why I can’t see—remember—the dreams.”
Asher tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But you need to speak to someone about what happened. Tomorrow. We’ll sort this out then. Right now I just want to sleep.”
He noticed the cut on her lip was bleeding. He grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and dabbed it to her lip. Her face scrunched for a second but she didn’t push him away.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He kissed her forehead, and his lips lingered. “It’s okay, it was a dream. And this might be a good lesson for me to remember when I’m going to do something that will piss you off,” he said, trying to make a joke.
She gave a strained laugh. “This is horrible. I’ll sleep on the couch where I can be close, but at a safe distance.”
“No. That’s too far away,” he told her quietly.
A knock at the door interrupted them.
Abi groaned. “He already thinks I’m a liar, now he’s going to think I’m—”
“He doesn’t think you’re a liar,” Asher said, waving a hand. “Jesse was impressed by the way you handled the situation in Adani, and Jesse’s not impressed easily.”
“He’s hard to read,” Abi said.
Another knock on the door.
“Not tonight,” Asher said with a thin smile. “I’ll speak to him and be back in a few minutes.”
Jesse was sitting on the couch with the doctor when Asher entered the living room.
“I’m okay,” he said, closing the bedroom door behind him.
“The doctor will confirm that. Please take a seat,” Jesse said.
Asher sat on the edge of the coffee table, aware he was dressed in nothing but his boxer shorts. The doctor didn’t seem to notice, nor did Jesse.
“She was dreaming and her fist connected with my collarbone, but I think it just caught my throat. I couldn’t breathe for a few moments, but I feel fine now,” Asher said.
The doctor opened his bag and pulled out a stethoscope. He listened to Asher’s breathing and then asked Asher to stick out his tongue so he could look down his throat.
“I want to image it tomorrow, but it seems you were very, very lucky,” the doctor said. “If her fist had connected differently, we might not be having this conversation. I’ll get you an ice pack to put on your throat to help with bruising. I want you to eat and drink something now so that I can make sure you can get it down and keep it down.”
Jesse was up and headed toward the kitchen before the doctor had finished.
He came back with some yogurt and a glass of water. Asher ate and swallowed and felt no pain.
The doctor nodded his approval. “Ice, and then we’ll scan it tomorrow just to make sure there’s no small tear or anything else I need to be aware of.”
“Thank you,” Asher said.
“It’s my honor, Your Majesty,” the doctor said.
Asher had never felt less like a king sitting in his boxer shorts eating yogurt in the middle of the night. It was almost funny—except that he couldn’t think about being king without thinking of his father’s violent death.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” the doctor said.
“This is a concern, Ash,” Jesse said when they were alone. His voice was low and Asher hoped Abi couldn’t hear.
“I know. I should’ve woken her when I heard her talking, but I didn’t expect her fists to start flying,” Asher said.
“It’s post-traumatic stress, which is not surprising at all,” Jesse said. “But it’s not a good idea to be sleeping in the same bed as her right now. I’m doing everything to keep you alive, and she could’ve killed you. And then what?” he asked, shaking his head. “How would she live with that, if she’d woken up and realized what she’d done?”
�
��I’ll sleep on the edge of the bed with my back to her. I know the risks—trust me, they were very clear as I was fighting to breathe—but tonight I actually slept. For the first time in weeks, I slept properly,” Asher said flatly.
Jesse rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, but I’m putting a recording device in that room, and if she seems unsettled I’m coming in there and pulling you out of bed.”
“Okay,” Asher said without pause. “Speaking of recording devices, how is the install going?”
Jesse nodded. “They’re on schedule and Alistair is still asleep,” Jesse said as he texted someone on his phone.
The doctor returned a few minutes later with two ice packs. “One for you, and a fresh one for Abi’s ankle,” he said.
“Thank you again,” Asher said with a nod. Another security guard entered and passed Jesse a small box.
He pulled out the device, which looked like a pen. He passed it to Asher. “Put it on the bedside table closest to Abi.”
Asher took the pen and ice packs and returned the bedroom. Abi’s eyes landed on him when he entered and he gave her a smile. “This one is for you,” he said, passing her an ice pack. He put the pen on the bedside table. “And that’s our safety net. If you start dreaming again, Jesse will come in and wake us before anything can happen.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
Asher climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his waist. He put the ice pack on his throat and turned to Abi. “Look at us,” he said with a lopsided grin.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t even promise you it won’t happen again.”
Asher took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. He noticed several small cuts on them, and that the thick bandages around her wrist were still clean—he was glad she wasn’t bleeding through them again.
“It was an accident. And I just want to sleep,” Asher said softly, his voice sounding more tired by the second.
Abi didn’t respond.
“What’s wrong?” Asher asked.
“I’m scared to sleep,” she whispered, looking away.
He rolled in to face her and brought her mouth to his. He kissed her, wanting to take her pain away—or at least make her forget it for a moment.
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