Asher (Wolves of Winter's Edge Book 3)

by T. S. Joyce

  Ashlyn felt slapped by his words. On one hand, they were kind of beautiful, but she hadn’t been trying to fix anyone. She couldn’t even fix herself. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Forget it. I just meant it’s me who’s not good for you.”

  Okay, this had gone too serious, way too fast. “But we both like creamy peanut butter.” She slipped a tiny smile onto her lips to show she was teasing.

  Asher leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, studied her with a calculating look. “I was angry at your drink choice because you’re so different from me.”

  Ashlyn tucked her knees up to her chest and faced him in the chair. “You don’t like us being different?”

  “Not this different. I don’t change. I don’t get better, or lighter, or easier. Amanda mentioned the rules. I’m not supposed to be with you. Not even as friends. And I would fight the rules and say fuck it except for you’re peppermint, white chocolate mocha, and I’m coffee black. And even if you amuse me, and even if I think about you when you’re not around, and even if I want to know more about you, protect you, and touch you, I can see clearly where we’re headed.”

  “And where’s that?”

  Asher swallowed hard. Such honesty pooled in the bright blue of his eyes as he whispered, “Nowhere.”

  Chapter Seven

  Asher had sufficiently confused Ashlyn into a stupor. She couldn’t think straight as she put her clothes away in the chest of drawers in Asher’s room. Yep, she was claiming this room for sentimental reasons. Their early morning fool-around session seemed so long ago now, but it had meant something to her. She hadn’t been touched like that by a man in a while. Not just physically, but he’d done something strange to her heart. To her mind. He’d attached her to him somehow.

  Something was strangely in Rangeley though. Something big. With every minute she stayed, and every encounter she had with the Strikers, with Mila, the people of this town, and even Blaire, her instincts kicked up at the wrongness a little more. And at the top of that mountain of mystery sat one badass, tatted-up, behemoth of a man named Asher.

  Why did she always do this? Bad boys were her Achilles heel. She’d always gone for the ones destined to break her heart. Blaire had always said it was because Ashlyn didn’t want to settle down—not really. The bad boys would break her heart, and she would move on because that was how she thought love was supposed to be—an endless loop of breathtaking excitement and butterflies and then bone-deep, soul-deep, heart-deep pain when they left for something better, somewhere better…someone better.

  Asher had been right. They would go nowhere. She’d been on this roller coaster loop before, and while it was exciting for a moment, it always ended too soon.

  A week was what she’d promised Blaire. She had plenty of time off work saved up, so okay, she would stay and make sure Blaire was all right in her new life, and she would go to the bar opening. But she would avoid the hell out of one sexy, icy-eyed mystery man who had apparently taken lessons on how to make a woman fall into serious lust with one above-average finger-bang.

  That was all this was—lust.

  A soft knock sounded at the door, and she twisted around to see Mila standing timidly in the hallway. “Hey.”

  Ashlyn closed the drawer and forced a smile. “Hey.”

  “Soooo, I wanted to talk to you. Is it okay if I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Mila entered, dark hair twitching with her graceful gait, and she sat on the edge of the unmade bed. “This morning was awkward.”

  “Awkward as fuck,” Ashlyn agreed, resting her back against the dresser.

  “And I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Too much, maybe, about how I would feel in your shoes, and I kind of hate that I’m probably a big part of the problem. I’m not trying to replace you as Blaire’s best friend, Ashlyn. She talks about you all the time. I feel like I already know you just from her stories. So I thought if you maybe knew a little about me, I would be less of a threat?”

  “Crunchy or creamy peanut butter?” Ashlyn asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Crunchy,” Mila said without a second thought.

  Ashlyn hissed and shook her head. “I don’t know if we can bury the hatchet now, Mila. That’s a deal-breaker.”

  Mila giggled. “I would switch my favorite if we could make this easier on Blaire.”

  Hmm. Ashlyn liked that. She began to make the bed, and Mila stood up and helped on the other side.

  “I have been stuck in this town for a long time, and I didn’t really have girlfriends. Not good ones. I was really lonely until Blaire came along. She’s amazing.”

  “That she is,” Ashlyn agreed, straightening the sheet.

  “I was thinking maybe we should do some fun stuff together. I mean, I’m totally cool with letting you have Blaire all to yourself as much as you want, but if you…you know…want to hang out with me, too, I would like that. I think you’re funny, and I keep laughing at the memory of you crawling under the table at Jack’s. Everyone was staring, but you didn’t care at all, and I liked it. I want to be more like that.” Mila was blushing hard, her cheeks the color of cherries, and she wouldn’t meet Ashlyn’s eyes. Mila was a shy girl. Blaire had gone shy when her ex-husband had wrecked her with that divorce, and something about Mila’s discomfort pulled at Ashlyn’s protective instincts. Dammit.

  “Anyway,” Mila rushed out. “I have ideas if you want to do fun stuff. I’m gonna let you get back to unpacking.”

  She rushed toward the door, but Ashlyn called, “Waaaait.”

  Mila turned, wringing her hands in front of her lap. “Yeah?”

  Ashlyn sighed in irritation that she was really going to reach out and take this olive branch. She’d wanted to hang onto her jealousy for a while longer. Grudges weren’t fun if they ended too quickly. “What did you have in mind?”

  Mila’s soft chocolate-colored eyes flickered up to hers, then down to the ground again as a smile stretched her lips. “I was going to teach Blaire bartending tricks today. I know a lot of of them, like spinning bottles, and doing lines of shots all at once. I can even blow fire. Soooo…I was wondering if you wanted to learn with her? We can do it when the boys are out so they won’t be pissed if we break bottles behind the bar.”

  “That actually sounds kind of awesome because I’m in desperate need of new party tricks. Tying cherry stems with my tongue isn’t getting me laid anymore.”

  Mila’s eyes went round, and she huffed a surprised-sounding laugh. “I can teach you stuff to get you laid,” she teased so quietly it was almost a whisper.

  “My vagina thanks you,” Ashlyn murmured.

  Mila laughed and pressed her hands on her cheeks as if trying to cool them. “When do you want to do it?”

  “I’m free now. Plus, I know Blaire is trying to work on some manuscripts, and I like to corrupt her and make her a terrible employee, so let’s go bully her into playing.”

  “Okay,” Mila said with a shy smile.

  Blaire wasn’t even that hard to convince away from her work, which told Ashlyn something important. She was happier here, living life more. Back home, she’d been obsessed with work just to escape the unhappiness of her divorce. But New Blaire wasn’t necessarily bad. She was different, sure, but maybe she’d needed that.

  As a trio, they stepped out onto the porch of Blaire’s cabin she shared with Gentry, and then they made their way down the stairs to the icy parking lot. Blaire led them to a worn trail in the woods and explained, “This is the back way to Winter’s Edge.”

  “And that’s the bar Asher’s dad ran before he passed away?”

  Blaire shot her a strange look.

  “What?” Ashlyn asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Spill, Red,” she demanded, using the nickname she called Blaire when she was being ridiculous.

  “I just find it interesting that you said Asher’s dad, instead of Gentry or Roman’s dad.”

  “It’s not interest
ing. He’s the one I’ve talked to the most.”

  “Yeah, talked to,” Blaire said, poking a finger through a hole she made with her other hand.

  “That’s enough, you perv. It was a beautiful experience, and you’re just jealous.”

  “Of fooling around with Asher? You’re lucky you’re still alive.” There was a hard edge to Blaire’s voice.

  “He’s not that scary, just so you know.”

  Blaire called her out. “You say that about every terrifying person you date.”

  “Maybe I’m just tougher than the average broad and can manage the monsters better.”

  “Not this monster,” Mila murmured so quietly Ashlyn almost missed it.

  She parted her lips to make fun of them both for being pussies, but both Mila and Blaire jerked their gazes to the exact same spot in the woods at once. They stood there frozen like garden statues in the middle of the winter forest.

  Chills lifted on Ashlyn’s body. She strained her ears and searched the woods, but heard and saw nothing out of the ordinary. What the hell was going on?

  When Blaire ripped her gaze from the woods and looked behind them, her eyes looked strange in the evening light. Ashlyn turned to follow her attention. Asher strode toward them, his eyes on the woods where Mila was still staring.

  A howl rose on the wind, long and loud. Ashlyn’s heartrate jacked up ten notches. “What the hell? There’s a wolf out here?” Or please God, let Blaire reassure her that was a coyote.

  “Go on,” Asher rumbled in a gravelly voice. “It’s fine. He’s probably just curious.”

  Unable to get her legs moving, Ashlyn asked him, “What’s happening?” as Asher approached.

  Mila and Blaire were already moving through the woods, following the trail slowly as Asher caught up. He gripped her arm and got her moving easily enough—by practically dragging her.

  Ashlyn shoved off him and frowned. Asher didn’t seem to mind her balking, though. He just walked beside her, placing himself between her and the forest where the howl had sounded.

  Now she felt guilty for taking his good knife, which was sitting in her purse inside of the cabin. All he had to defend them was her little black knife, which was really no weapon at all.

  He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed, then bent smoothly, picked up a handful of snow, and released it into the wind. It blew east, and he murmured mysteriously, “Clever.”

  “What’s clever?”

  “Staying downwind.”

  Whatever that meant. Through the trees loomed a big log cabin with a sign over the door that read Winter’s Edge. Blaire led them right through the clearing and to a side door, and then she and Mila disappeared inside.

  Asher gripped Ashlyn’s elbow before she followed, easing her to a stop. “Nothing will hurt you. I’ll make sure of it.” His voice had gone deadly serious. She believed him because, clearly, he believed every word he told her. His Adam’s apple dipped low into his muscular neck as he swallowed, and with a passive look in his blazing eyes, he murmured, “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “Oh, you mean about telling me we were headed nowhere, as if I’d asked you to define our relationship, and then ignoring me the entire way back to my car? Forgiven, I guess, Stranger. But even if I was in the mood to put up with your man-shenanigans—”

  Asher leaned down and kissed her into silence. It was a hard kiss, a painful one. One where his teeth grazed her lips before he pushed his tongue past without invitation and stroked unapologetically against her tongue. He gripped the back of her neck too hard. Rough man. She bit his bottom lip to punish his carelessness.

  A sexy sound snarled from him, and he shoved her back against the wall of Winter’s Edge. He’d stunned her again, and her traitor body was so revved up now, she stopped fighting him, stopped her biting him again. Asher gripped the back of her hair and angled her face up, disengaged their kiss, and dragged his lips to her neck where he sucked hard. He ground his body against hers, nearly suffocating her. She was half his size, and apparently he wasn’t in the mood for gentleness like this morning.

  “I can’t fucking stop thinking about you,” he rasped against her neck. “I’m going crazy. I know I am. You’re making me crazy. Fffuck.” He pushed off her and splayed his hands on either side of her face, trapping her against the wall. His eyes were so pretty right now, such a light blue. His chest was heaving as he dragged in breath after frozen breath, eyes locked on hers, gaze intense. She would’ve given her bones to hear what he was thinking right now, but when she asked, he shook his head and answered, “Nothing good. You call to me. It’s a dangerous game for both of us.”

  Riddles, riddles, riddles. Did the man know that telling her she should stay away from him only make her stubborn streak wider? She liked disobedience. So she slid her hands up his strong chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned up on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to the base of his throat. She could be seductive, too, and he deserved it. He’d been wrecking her hormones since she met him. A soft groan rattled his throat, vibrating against her moving lips. She smiled and sucked, then moved up to his jaw and gave it the same affection. Up, up until she reached his lips, and then she kissed him. Gently this time, and she didn’t let him bully her into another hard kiss. She eased back every time he tried and shook her head until he was good and trained and eased forward, cupping the back of her head.

  She ran her hands down his chest, down the defined mounds of his abs to the hem of his shirt. Lifting slightly, she brushed her fingers on his warm skin along his beltline. He shuddered like he was cold, but he couldn’t be. His flesh was on fire, as if he had a fever.

  Ashlyn eased her tongue past his lips and licked him shallowly, and couldn’t help the smile when he groaned a sexy, helpless sound. It was enough for now. Easing back, she disengaged with a soft smack and took her hands out from under his shirt.

  “When you tell me to stay away from you, it only dares me to bring you in closer,” she whispered. Ashlyn held his stunned gaze for a moment more, then ducked under his locked arm and went into Winter’s Edge without a single look back.

  Asher, Asher, the panty basher.

  That man was all hard edges and sex-appeal, and it was becoming apparent he thought about her like she did him. He liked her body. She called to him without even trying.

  She touched her throbbing lips with her fingertips as she followed the sound of the girl’s voices into a big tavern room.

  The howl lifted on the wind again, but for some reason, she wasn’t scared this time. She didn’t know why, but Asher’s presence nearby made her feel safe in a way that made no sense.

  That man had a darkness inside of him she would likely never understand. He kept it too closely guarded. She’d never met anyone like him, who had pulled at her heart so strongly, who had become interesting so quickly. But she knew by some instinct he was perfectly capable of handling whatever curious animal was outside if it decided to come too close.

  Ashlyn was glad of his protective instincts because she was certain she’d hate being on Asher’s bad side.

  Chapter Eight

  Something was wrong.

  Asher narrowed his eyes at the darkening woods and lifted his chin into the air, inhaling deeply. There was another monster in his forest. He got a whiff of fur before it disappeared on the wind. A clever monster, clearly, because he was on the move, staying downwind, and out of sight. He recognized the scent but couldn’t place it. This werewolf wasn’t a Bone-Ripper, but something else. Something bad. A creature with bad intentions.

  The Taker was hungry, but not for Ashlyn as he’d expected. The Taker was hungry for any threat to her.

  Huh.

  He strode for the tree line, but he could feel it now—the retreat of the beast. The darkness was leaving the woods of Winter’s Edge. Asher was tempted to kneel in the snow and give his mind to the sky, use his powers to search for the wolf. To identify it. To devour it. But for some reason, he couldn’t drag his consciousness a
way from the pretty little brunette currently laughing with the girls in Winter’s Edge. All his wolf wanted to do was stay here, check parameters, make sure Ashlyn had fun with Mila and Blaire, make sure she was safe.

  Clearly, Ashlyn had broken him. A snarl rattled his throat as his inner wolf disagreed. She’s not breaking you. She’s shaping you into something different. A different kind of monster. One who can do good and bad.

  He should go talk to Odine. She hadn’t seen Ashlyn in his future. She’d seen nothing but darkness, which didn’t make sense because Ashlyn was as bright as the damn north star in an all-black sky. Surely Odine would’ve been able to see her if she was meant for him. She’d seen Blaire and Mila for his brothers.

  Fury washed through him at the unfairness. Why was his future the only one shrouded in darkness?

  When snowflakes drifted down from the sky, he lifted his face to the clouds. These were his favorite nights—the cold ones with a storm hovering above him, blotting out the stars and the moon. Blotting out the light. He liked the dark, frigid nights best when he went wolf, too. At least Odine had done that right. She’d given him a wolf that matched the rest of him. The rest of her decisions had put a canyon between her and Asher. Between her and anyone on this earth really, but sometimes Asher wondered if she even realized the consequences. Or perhaps she did understand, just preferred to be alone. He understood that desire.

  Haunted souls did best in the confines of their hosts. Relationships with people required giving bits and pieces of them away to them for safekeeping, but Asher had learned long ago that in place of his soul was The Taker. And who, on this wide earth, would ever want to protect that?

  Asher’s wicked soul was his burden, and his burden alone.

  He’d always been okay with that…until now. His boots crunched in the snow as he approached the window. His breath fogged in front of him on every exhale, so he held it in when he saw Ashlyn through the window pane, just so it wouldn’t obstruct his view of her.