Flood
1118 Words
As I run home, my mind spirals out of control. If I hadn’t drunk so much, I would’ve smelt her. How could I let myself be so blind? I was moments away from f*****g a woman who isn’t Lenora. The thought alone makes my chest tighten with shame, bile rising in my throat. The heat of the night air clings to my skin, amplifying the weight of my guilt.
The masking lotion—of course. It allows someone to look and sound like anyone they desire, but it doesn’t hide their scent. It’s temporary, lasting at most an hour, and she must’ve timed it perfectly. After I went to sleep, she waited. She waited until I was defenseless, deep in my drunken slumber.
Her mouth on me… I want to gag just thinking about it.
Fuck! My stomach churns violently as I stagger to the side of the path, leaning against a tree. The vomit forces its way out, my body rejecting the alcohol with vicious urgency. Everything from last night, every mistake, is being purged—but it doesn’t cleanse me. I hate myself more. The signs were there, clear as day, and I ignored them. The way she spoke, the way her lips moved, the taste of her… none of it was Lenora.
Fuck, Asher! How could you be so careless?
My lycan saved me, though I loathe him for waiting so long to speak up. Why let it go that far? Oh, right—I’ve been keeping him at bay, blocking his presence to drown out the guilt that’s been festering inside me. Now, it’s all coming back.
When I finally reach home, I strip off and jump into the shower, scrubbing every inch of my skin with brutal force. I can’t shake the disgust. Her touch still clings to me like a poison I can’t rid myself of. The steam fills the bathroom, thick and suffocating.
Fuck, I wish I could tear my d**k off, regrow a new one. I slam my head against the shower tiles in frustration, sliding down until I’m sitting on the cold floor. The water cascades over me, and I sit there, unmoving, letting it drown out the reality of what happened. I’m a piece of s**t.
…
“Asher? Asher, are you okay? Wake up!” Carter’s frantic voice cuts through the haze. I blink, feeling the cold as he turns the shower off and throws a towel at me.
“What the f**k, Carter?” I snarl, blinking the water from my eyes. “Why the hell are you in here?” I stand up slowly, stretching, as if my bones themselves carry the weight of my guilt. I wrap the towel around my waist, still glaring at him.
He glares back, unphased by my anger. “I’ve been linking you all morning. Lucky I came to check on you. You’ve flooded your house, Asher. What made you think it was a good idea to take a nap in the damn shower?”
I glance down, noticing the small pool of water creeping across the floor. s**t. I must’ve fallen asleep and blocked the drain. That’s right. Last night. I’m a disgusting pig.
Carter waves a hand in front of my face. “Hellooooo, King Asher? Are you even listening?” His voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “What the f**k happened last night? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I rub my face, trying to find the words. How do I even begin to explain? Walking into my bedroom, I feel the wet carpet squish beneath my feet. I pull on a pair of shorts and a tank top, the cold fabric sticking to my damp skin. In the lounge, the water damage has spread farther than I thought. It’s almost laughable—my life in shambles, and now my house too.
Carter hands me a bottle of water, which I down in one go, before I start explaining everything—every sickening detail. As I speak, the weight of it bears down on me even harder. The more I say out loud, the more it feels like I let it happen. By the end of my story, I feel hollow, like I’m watching myself from a distance.
Carter’s expression shifts from anger to something darker. “That b***h. That explains a lot.” His voice is rough, but controlled. “Caroline—the barmaid—was found dead this morning. Poisoned. I have a feeling Daphne had something to do with that.”
I freeze. “Wait, what? The barmaid was killed?”
Carter runs a hand through his hair, his face hardening. “Yeah. The bar owner found her body. There was a struggle, signs of a fight. And the key to the guest room was still in the door.”
My stomach drops. Caroline. I stumble toward my room, digging through my pockets until my fingers curl around the cold metal of the key. I pull it out, staring at it in disbelief. I knew I locked the door behind me.
Back in the lounge, I toss the key to Carter. “I thought I left it in the door… but it’s been with me this whole time. Caroline… She stopped Daphne from following me. She gave me this key. I remember hearing a commotion when I left the bar, but I was too wasted to turn around. I—” My voice cracks. “This is all my fault.”
Carter grips my shoulder firmly, forcing me to look at him. “No. This is not your fault, Asher. It sounds like Daphne drugged you. Caroline tried to stop her from following you and she paid the price. But this… this is Daphne’s doing, not yours. We’ll find her. I’ll have the guards bring her in. And I’ll talk to Siobhan, see if she can use her magic to uncover what really happened.”
His words don’t quite reach me. I nod numbly, my heart pounding in my chest. I failed. I should’ve protected her.
“Go for a run,” Carter says gently. “Clear your head. Let me handle this.”
I look at him gratefully. Carter—my beta, my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He always knows how to ground me when I’m falling apart.
“Thank you, Carter,” I murmur, my voice hoarse. “For everything.”
He gives me a firm pat on the back. “It’s what I’m here for, Asher. Go. Your wolf is probably going stir-crazy by now.”
I give him a small, genuine smile before heading outside, shifting into my wolf.
- Writer
