Chapter 163 Chapter 163

Chapter 163 Chapter 163
ASHER's POV

My lungs burned with each stumbling step I took forward until I came to a halt beneath the thick canopy of oaks, hands braced against my knees as I gasped for air that felt too thin, too hot, and like every breath was like rapids being pulled straight through a narrow ravine.

Sweat slicked my skin, and beneath it, every bone, every muscle, every vein felt like it was being slowly pried apart and stitched back together too quickly as fire raced through my blood—hotter, brighter, and hungrier than it had ever been before.
"Arrrggah--AH!" The cries tore through my throat as I fell back against a nearby tree. My back pressed against the rough bark of the tree and slid down until I hit the mossy earth beneath me, and god did I wish it stopped there. But no, it only got worse.

I curled in on myself, teeth gritted so hard my jaw ached. My transformation was only half-done, but scales erupted across my chest and arms; unders were still trying to break through the skin on sensitive parts of my body as the bones shifted and lengthened.

"F...fuck!" I couldn't transform here. Not now. Not while Crystal could see.

And I knew exactly how it had started.

I had been awake the whole time.
From the very second she climbed into bed beside me, I felt it.

I felt the warmth of her skin even when she hadn't touched me, the way her breath finally evened out when she eventually fell asleep. It was soft and steady, barely an arm’s length away…meanwhile I...I had not slept a wink as I committed all those small details to heart as I stared into the dark, counting every beat of my own heart, and fighting against every instinct I possessed.
Because having her there-- so close--did things to my control that nothing else ever had.
I told myself to breathe. I told myself to behave. I told myself I could endure one night, and keep to my side of the bed, keep my hands to myself, keep the beast chained down where it belonged.
But then the dream came.
It was not the nightmare I had carried for twenty years—the one with fire and screaming and my mother’s face in the flames.
It was him.
My dragon.
He did not roar. He did not rage. He rose up through my blood like smoke through dry grass, heavy and imposing, and he spoke directly into the hollows of my mind.
She is ours.
He said in a rumbling tone.

I knew she was ours, but I couldn't do what he was asking me to do. So, like a fool, I tried to push him back. But the harder I fought, the stronger he pushed, wrapping around my thoughts like iron chains, dragging me toward a single, terrible purpose.
Mark her. Bind her. Make her yours. Protect her so nothing and no one can ever take her away.
I struggled against those instincts with everything I had. But this was not just a dream. This was my own bloodline rising up, centuries of power and instinct.
And that was when I felt her hand against my skin.
Light. Soft. And everything snapped.
The last chain of my resolve broke. In that one instant, there was no Asher, no restraint, no rational thought—only fire, and an all-consuming hunger to claim what was mine.
I woke already moving. I pinned her before I even opened my eyes. I tasted her scent before I was fully conscious. And when I saw her—wide-eyed, frightened, but not pulling away—I felt the beast within me rear up and roar.

Begging me to take her. But I held back.
I felt my teeth lengthen and my vision shift, turning everything gold and sharp-edged. I was inches from her throat, fighting a war I was losing by the second, and I knew with absolute, terrifying certainty that if I stayed one moment longer, I would do exactly what my dragon demanded.
So I ran.
I tore myself away from her with every shred of will I still possessed, and ran away from the woman who made my heart beat too fast, and turned me into a nervous mess too afraid to tell her how I felt. Because Nayara was right.

I wasn't afraid of the rejection. I was afraid she'd say yes. And then what do I tell her? That I was...

No. I wasn't a coward for running away. I wasn't.

I stumbled out of that room and ran as fast and as far as I could. I ran until my legs screamed and my lungs bled, putting as much distance between us as I possibly could, because if I could not control myself, then I did not deserve to be near her.

I curled tighter around myself now, back in the present, shaking so hard the ground seemed to tremble with me. The pain was worse now—searing, white-hot, rolling in waves that left me gasping, but I'd reached a point where even my voice was swallowed up.