His Human Mate

Lost in the Night

Rayla’s breath caught, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. His proximity was intoxicating, and the memory of her dream flashed before her eyes, making her cheeks burn even hotter.

“I—I wasn’t hiding,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… didn’t want to interrupt.”

Asher raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Interrupt what, exactly? Stacy’s pathetic attempt at seduction?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Or were you just enjoying the show?”

Rayla’s eyes widened, and she shook her head quickly. “N-no! I wasn’t—I didn’t—”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling, and pulled back slightly to look at her. “Relax, kitten. I’m just messing with you.” His gaze softened, and for a moment, the teasing glint in his eyes was replaced by something warmer, something that made her stomach flutter.

But before she could process it, he stepped back, giving her space. “Next time, though, maybe don’t hide in the bathroom. It’s a little creepy.”

Rayla blinked, her mind struggling to catch up. “I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—”

He cut her off with a grin, grabbing a towel and slinging it over his shoulder. “See you around, Rayla.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart still racing and her thoughts a jumbled mess. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing, but the heat in her cheeks and the lingering warmth of his presence made it impossible to think clearly.

Rayla stood there for a long moment, her mind spinning as she tried to process what had just happened. The way Asher had spoken to her—soft, almost gentle—was so unlike the sharp, venomous tone she was used to. And his eyes… they hadn’t been cold or filled with hatred like they usually were. Instead, they’d held a warmth she hadn’t seen before, a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite name. It unsettled her, stirring up emotions she didn’t want to acknowledge.

She shook her head violently, as if she could physically dislodge the thoughts. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way—this strange, fuzzy warmth that spread through her chest whenever she thought about the way he’d looked at her. She had a boyfriend. Zack. Sweet, caring Zack, who had been nothing but good to her. And Asher? He hated her. Or at least, he always acted like he did. So why had he been so… different just now?

The guilt hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her and leaving her breathless. Zack’s face flashed in her mind—his kind smile, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to do to make her feel better. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to ground herself. How could she even think about Asher like that? How could she let herself feel anything but disgust for him?

Desperate to clear her head, she turned on the shower and let the cold water fall on her. The icy shock made her shiver, but it didn’t do much to wash away the turmoil inside her. She stared at the wall, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide with confusion. “Get it together, Rayla,” she muttered under her breath. “This is not okay.”

But no matter how much she tried to rationalize it, the memory of Asher’s voice, his warmth, his teasing smirk, lingered in her mind like a stubborn shadow. And worse, the guilt only seemed to grow stronger, seeping under her skin and settling deep in her chest. She felt like she was betraying Zack just by thinking about Asher, and that thought made her stomach churn.

She turned off the water and grabbed a towel, drying her face and body with more force than necessary. “It was nothing,” she told herself firmly. “Just a weird moment. He was messing with you. That’s all.”

But even as she said the words, she couldn’t quite convince herself. Because deep down, she knew something had shifted—something she wasn’t ready to face. And as she left the bathroom, her heart still racing and her thoughts a tangled mess, she couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

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The next few days were a living hell for Rayla. The same strange dream kept replaying in her mind, night after night, leaving her with a racing heart, a knot in her stomach, and a blush that crept up her neck and ears, spreading to her cheeks like wildfire. Each time she woke up, she felt more disoriented, more conflicted, and more guilty. It was as if her subconscious had declared war on her, forcing her to confront feelings she wasn’t ready to face.

Her interactions with Zack became strained. She could barely look him in the eye, afraid he’d see the turmoil written all over her face. Every time he smiled at her or told her he loved her, she felt a pang of guilt so sharp it took her breath away. She was spacing out during their conversations, her mind drifting to thoughts she had no business entertaining. It felt like she was cheating on him, even though nothing had actually happened. But in her mind? In her dreams? It felt all too real.

On the other hand, she couldn’t face Asher either. Every time they crossed paths at the university, she turned on her heel and bolted in the opposite direction. If she saw him walking toward her, she’d duck into the nearest classroom or pretend to be engrossed in her phone. Even when he came over with Nick to hang out with Scarlet, Rayla would bury herself under her blankets, pretending to be asleep. She couldn’t risk being in the same room as him, not when her thoughts were spiraling out of control.

But avoiding him didn’t stop the dreams. If anything, they became more vivid, more intense. She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her neck, the way his lips had traced her tattoo in her dream. She wanted—no, needed—to feel it again, even if it was just in her imagination. The more she tried to push the thoughts away, the stronger they became, consuming her until she could barely think straight.

And then there was the memory of him in the bathroom, half-naked and dripping wet, his body like something out of a fantasy. It was burned into her mind, playing on a loop whenever she let her guard down. She hated how much it affected her, how her heart raced and her stomach fluttered every time she thought about it. She hated how much she wanted it—wanted him—even though she knew it was wrong.

The feelings were overwhelming, suffocating her until she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to talk to someone—anyone—about what she was going through, but the thought of voicing her thoughts out loud terrified her. What if saying it made it real? What if admitting her feelings made them impossible to ignore? She couldn’t risk it. So she buried everything deep inside, hoping that if she ignored it long enough, it would just go away.

But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t. The more she tried to deny it, the more it consumed her. And as the days passed, the line between her dreams and reality began to blur, leaving her more confused and conflicted than ever.

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It was a Friday night, and the campus was quiet, the usual buzz of students replaced by the soft rustling of leaves in the chilly autumn air. Rayla had been wandering aimlessly, her thoughts a tangled mess, until she found herself in the small park nearby. The playground was empty, the swings swaying gently in the breeze as if waiting for someone to breathe life into them. She sat on one of the swings, her feet dragging in the dirt as she pushed herself back and forth in slow, absent-minded motions.

Her mind had been spinning all week, replaying the same questions over and over again. How had her feelings shifted so sharply? It couldn’t be love at first sight—that was ridiculous. She loved Zack. She knew she did. He was kind, dependable, and he’d always been there for her. So why did Asher’s face keep popping into her mind like some kind of warning alarm? Every time she zoned out or closed her eyes, there he was—his smirking lips, his piercing gaze, the way his voice had softened when he called her “kitten.” It was maddening.

She sighed for what felt like the millionth time, pulling her jacket tighter around her body to ward off the cold. The night air was crisp, sending shivers down her spine, but it did little to cool the heat of her thoughts. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering dangerously, unsure whether to step back or let herself fall.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She pulled it out and saw Scarlet’s name flashing on the screen. For a moment, she considered ignoring it—she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone someone as perceptive as Scarlet. But when the calls kept coming, one after another, she finally gave in.

“Where the f**k are you?” Scarlet’s voice exploded through the phone the second Rayla answered. “You almost gave me a heart attack! Are you okay?”

Rayla winced, holding the phone slightly away from her ear. “Jeez, relax,” she said, her voice tired. “I’m at the park. Why are you so worked up?”

“Why am I—? Rayla, it’s almost midnight, and you just disappeared without telling anyone! Do you know how worried I was? I thought something happened to you!”

Rayla glanced at her phone, her eyes widening in shock. Midnight? How had she lost track of time like that? She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized how long she’d been sitting there, swinging back and forth in the cold, empty park. Guilt gnawed at her as she scrambled to her feet, her voice apologetic as she spoke into the phone. “I didn’t realize I was gone for so long. I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.”

But Scarlet’s response was immediate, her tone firm and insistent. “No, no, no. Stay right where you are. We’re coming to get you.” Before Rayla could protest, the line went dead, leaving her standing there in the dim glow of the streetlights.

Rayla frowned, tucking her phone into her pocket. She didn’t understand why Scarlet was so worked up. It wasn’t like she was a stranger to late nights out—Scarlet was the queen of midnight adventures. But Rayla? She rarely stayed out past dark, especially in a city where she still felt like a stranger. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude. Scarlet’s concern was a reminder that she wasn’t alone, even when it felt like the world was closing in around her.

Despite Scarlet’s warning, Rayla didn’t want to stay in the park any longer. The shadows seemed to stretch longer in the silence, and the chill in the air was starting to seep into her bones. She took a few steps toward the path that led back to campus, her breath visible in the cold night air. But before she could get far, a tall figure stepped out of the shadows, blocking her way.

“Well, well, well,” the man drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “What do we have here?”

Rayla froze, her heart skipping a beat as she took in the stranger’s appearance. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his face partially hidden in the darkness, but his smirk was unmistakable. She took a step back, her instincts screaming at her to run, but before she could turn, two more figures emerged from behind her, cutting off her escape.

Her breath hitched, panic rising in her chest as she realized she was surrounded. The park, which had felt so peaceful moments ago, now felt like a trap. The streetlights flickered faintly, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to close in around her.

“I—I was just leaving,” Rayla stammered, her voice trembling as she took another step back. Her mind raced, trying to think of a way out, but the men were closing in, their expressions unreadable in the dim light.

The first man chuckled, a low, unsettling sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Leaving so soon? But the night’s just getting started.”

Rayla’s heart pounded in her ears as she glanced around, searching for an escape route. The park was empty, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the wind. She was completely alone—or so she thought.

Just as the men took another step toward her, a voice cut through the darkness, sharp and commanding. “Back off.”

Rayla’s head snapped toward the sound, her breath catching in her throat. Emerging from the shadows was a familiar figure—tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating an intensity that made the air around him crackle. Asher.

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