7
1095 Words
Alpha Asher POV
Her words hit me like a slap I didn’t see coming.
“What do you mean?” Hazel’s voice cracked with fresh anger, raw and trembling. She sat up straighter despite the way her body still shook, clutching my jacket around her like armor. “Now that you’ve taken advantage of me and got what you wanted, you don’t give a f*ck about anything else?”
Her eyes—red-rimmed, glistening with tears she refused to let fall—burned into mine. There was no fear in them now, only fury. Pure, justified fury.
“Or is there another Asher Royal in this entire city?” she spat.
I stared at her. She sounded honest. Too honest. The kind of honesty that didn’t come from someone spinning a story. But the accusation didn’t fit. I had no memory of ordering any arrest, no recollection of signing off on some petty assault charge from a concert. My seal was used for pack threats, border disputes, high-level betrayals—not random civilian drama. If someone had forged it… that was treason. If someone had used my name without permission… that was worse.
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I studied her. Bruises bloomed on her wrists where my fingers had gripped too hard. Her lips were swollen, one corner split from where she’d bitten me in desperation. My blood still stained her chin. She looked small, broken—and yet she sat there glaring at me like she could tear me apart if she had the strength.
Something twisted in my chest. Guilt? Regret? I didn’t know the names for those feelings anymore. I’d buried them long ago.
I pressed the intercom button on the console. “Jaden.”
The door opened almost immediately. Jaden—my most trusted enforcer—stepped halfway in, head bowed in respect. Tall, broad-shouldered, face scarred from years of protecting me. He never questioned an order, never flinched.
“Can I do anything for you, sir?”
I kept my voice low, controlled. “There’s been an accusation. A man named Lucas Hudson was arrested three days ago for assault at a Lunar Howls concert. The claim is that I personally ordered the conviction and detention. No evidence, no trial—just my name attached to it. Find out who issued the order, who used my seal, and how it happened. I want a full report in one hour.”
Jaden’s eyes flicked once to Hazel—quick, assessing—then back to me. He didn’t blink at the blood, the torn clothes, the tension thick enough to choke on. “Yes, sir. I’ll handle it immediately.”
He bowed once more and disappeared, the door closing with a soft click.
Silence settled over the car again, heavier than before.
Hazel hadn’t moved. She stared straight ahead, jaw tight, breathing shallow. The jacket had slipped off one shoulder, exposing the curve of her collarbone and the faint red marks my mouth had left. I looked away.
“We’ll find out what happened in an hour,” I said quietly. “Do you want to stay or leave?”
She didn’t answer right away. Then, without a word, she reached for the door handle. The lock clicked open. Cold air rushed in, carrying the faint smell of rain-soaked concrete and distant exhaust.
I spoke before I could stop myself. “I’ll ask someone to send you home.”
“There’s no need.”
She shrugged off my jacket and held it out to me. Her fingers trembled, but her grip was steady. I took it. The fabric was warm from her body, stained with her scent—something soft and wild, like pine and rain.
“I only want my brother returned safely home as soon as possible,” she said. Her voice was low, almost steady. “That is all.”
She didn’t wait for me to reply. She pushed the door wider and stepped out. Barefoot—her shoes must have come off during the struggle—she walked across the rough concrete without flinching. Her torn hoodie hung off one shoulder, jeans ripped at the knee. She looked fragile, like a strong wind could break her.
But she didn’t break.
She walked with her head high, shoulders squared, even as pain slowed her steps. I watched her silhouette move through the dim parking lot lights—small, determined, disappearing around the pillar toward the exit ramp.
Something unfamiliar clawed at the inside of my ribs.
I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. The car still smelled of her—of sweat, tears, fear, and something sweeter underneath it all. My head throbbed. The drug—or whatever it had been—had mostly worn off, leaving behind a sick, hollow ache.
I had never lost control like that. Never.
And now I had ruined someone who had come to me for help.
My phone buzzed once—Jaden, already moving. I ignored it.
I stared at the bloodstains on the leather. They looked wrong. Violent. I should have had the car cleaned immediately. Burned the seats. But I didn’t move.
Instead, I replayed her words.
Lucas Hudson.
Concert.
False accusation.
My name.
If she was telling the truth—and every instinct I had screamed that she was—then someone had used my authority to punish a boy who’d done nothing more than reject the wrong woman. And they’d done it knowing it would destroy his family.
I thought of her mother—Hazel had mentioned her once, in passing, during the frantic explanation in the dungeon visit she’d described. Working two jobs. Graying fur. Tired eyes. And now her son was in a cell because of a lie stamped with my seal.
I thought of Hazel—crying outside the dungeon, begging guards, running to this hotel in the middle of the night, throwing water in my face because she had nothing left to lose.
And then I thought of what I’d done to her in this car.
My hands clenched into fists.
If Jaden’s report confirmed what she said…
I would find whoever was responsible.
And I would make them pay.
But first, I had to make sure Lucas Hudson walked free.
And somehow—somehow—I had to face the woman whose life I’d just shattered, and try to fix what couldn’t be fixed.
I pressed my forehead against the cool window and let out a long, slow breath.
The parking lot was empty now.
She was gone.
- Writer
