Liam shifts his weight again, his stance lowering. His hands curl slightly like claws as the rogues circle closer, their attention sharp and locked on him. He’s a threat to them, and the one thing standing between them and me.
One of them lunges, then another. There’s too many.
Liam moves to meet them, but there’s a split second where his control slips, where something in his posture fractures just enough that I see it. An unnatural tension. It’s like his body wants to change.
My breath catches, and I hold it, watching, waiting for whatever detrimental shift is about to happen.
But then, a new presence cuts through the chaos. It hits before I see him: sharp, commanding, absolute.
My mind says his name at the same time Liam says it out loud. “Asher,” he breathes, the word filled with r
