Chapter 189

Something wasn’t right.

Asher sat beside Clover, her naked body tangled in the sheets from her bed. She had a binder in front of her, ad she was flipping mindlessly through the pages.

“What do you think about a burgundy?” she was asking. Asher had no idea what she was even referring to—curtains or table cloths, so be it. He didn’t care. This marriage was a business proposition and that was all it was.

But something was burning in the back of his head. All the drinking, all the mindless sex with Clover, all the wedding planning and the time spent together, and he still couldn’t get that fucking Omega out of his head. It didn’t make sense. Who was she to him?

“Hello?” asked Clover. “Are you even listening?”

He couldn’t deny that when he looked at her, he expected lush brown hair, hazel eyes, a lovely rosy complexion. Instead, Clover was dark. She was fierce and mysterious and…not Cecilia.

Why? Why was it bothering him so much?

And just to piss him off more, she’d texted him at some point in the night. “Are you doing okay?” it said—that was it. The sight of it made him want to crush his phone in his hand.

He couldn’t let himself be destroyed by a pathetic Omega.

“Why even bother with a wedding?” he asked. “Why not just get hitched?”

“Hitched?” asked Clover. “But we want to make a show of it, don’t we?”

“I don’t care about a show,” said Asher, focusing on her gaze. Maybe if he held stern enough, she’d think it was a romantic gesture, and not just an attempt to get the Omega out of his mind.

“So…what?” asked Clover with a scoff. He could tell she was disappointed by the way she was suddenly covering her chest with the blankets. “You want to just…fly to Vegas and get hitched or something?”

“Something like this,” Asher admitted.

In all honesty, he didn’t care to hear Clover’s opinion on it. The wedding was taking to long—even rushed as it was. They could leave at any given moment and fly to Vegas. They didn’t need to wait—didn’t need to pace around while time passed. The sooner he could get that Omega out of his head, the better.

But Clover didn’t seem to like his idea. She narrowed her eyes at him and looked him over suspiciously. “I’ll consider it,” she muttered.

Suddenly, Asher didn’t find her as attractive as she had been just a moment ago. She was a good fuck, but he wasn’t a fan of her dominant attitude. They were too alike, the two of them—powerful, controlling, sex-hungry. He used to love women like that—women who took control of situations. Now he wasn’t so sure.

He pined for something…different all of a sudden.

“I’ll stay at my apartment tonight,” he muttered.

Clover opened her mouth and hesitated. “Ah—wait. Why? Where are you going?” She’d started to reach for him, but Asher was already up, already sliding his pants on and gathering his keys from her nightstand.

“I have work to go over,” he lied. “Don’t want to keep you up.”

Clover scoffed. “Since when have you ever cared about keeping me up?”

Asher glanced back at her only momentarily. Then he started toward the door. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

Clover didn’t say a word as he left, but he could feel the tense uncertainty he left behind. This behavior wasn’t like him—not with Clover. She’d always been the one person he’d do anything for. What the hell was going on with him?

By the time he arrived at his apartment, it was nearly one in the morning, but he could tell someone was inside because the lamp in the living room had been turned on. He approached the door cautiously, twisting his key through the lock so as not to make a sound. Then he opened it with but the slightest creek and stepped inside.

She was sitting there, sprawled on the ground, papers and files spread around on the floor in front of her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She leapt at the sight of him and immediately began to gather the belongings back up. “I—I’m sorry,” Cecilia sputtered.

“You broke into my apartment again?” asked Asher. “How do you keep doing it?”

“You gave me a key a long time ago,” Cecilia explained. “I stayed here for some time with you…”

He had shared his apartment with her? He tried to recall, but a dull pain shot through the back of his head as he drew focus to the lack of memory. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and tossed his things aside. “What the hell makes you think I shouldn’t call the police right now?”

“Right now?” asked Cecilia. “I—I was just.”

Asher approached her, taking a squat in front of her. He peered into her eyes, seeing the panic on her face. The fearful swallow in her throat. “You were what?”

“I was looking for answers,” Cecilia admitted. She delicately placed all the files back into their correct folders and gathered them into a pile. “I thought if I could learn more about your past, I could find a way to trigger your memories.”

She had started to place the files back on his bookshelf when Asher slapped them from her hands. They went spilling onto the floor. He was furious—and not even because she’d broken into his house—but because his body reared at the slightest scent of her. Because that frightened look on her face was…cute. Because it made him pine. Made him want to rip off her clothes and throw her on the leather sofa.

Fuck. He had more self-control than this. He wasn’t one to fuck an Alpha. He had higher standards than that. He shoved past her and into the bathroom, praying a shower would bring him back to focus—would take the thought of railing her out of his head. He’d just had sex with Clover—he didn’t need another go. So why had he found himself so hard beneath the shower water.

He was trying to divert the blood to a different direction when Cecilia came knocking softly on the bathroom door. Despite his silence, she stepped inside and shut it behind her, lingering out of view.

“I’m sorry,” she began. “I know it was wrong to come here, but I’m losing hope. And I know you don’t remember anything, but…we really liked each other. And it feels like someone very important to me has just…vanished. I want him back, that’s all.” Silence. Asher couldn’t bring himself to respond. He didn’t know how. He wanted to feel rage, disgust—but that quiver in her voice had found its way under his skin. “I know I should probably just let you move on,” Cecilia said. With every word, she seemed to be growing more and more sad. “I didn’t think you’d forget me so easily. I didn’t think…” Again, she trailed off into silence. Then there was the sound of a door opening. “Anyway, I’m sorry. Goodnight.”

Then, at that very moment, the lights shut off.

Cecilia let out a frightened little yelp. Asher wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower to find the light switch no longer worked. In face, nothing was working. Stepped out of the bathroom to the pitch black of his apartment. Cecilia was somewhere nearby—just a lump of black in the darkness.

“Asher?” she was calling. “Where are you?”

He didn’t respond—to caught up in the view from the kitchen window. A storm was raging outside, throwing spittle at the glass, blasting rain sideways against the apartment complex. There was suddenly a flash of light as Cecilia brought her phone to her face and frowned. Asher couldn’t help the magnetic feeling that pulled at him when he saw her face haloed in the light.

“Cell phone towers are down,” she muttered. “The storm must be bad. Oh—I can’t call for a cab then.”

Asher felt his fingers turn to fists at his side. Why did he care so much? Why couldn’t he just bring himself to hate her the way he hated all Omegas?

“Walk then,” he ordered her. Cecilia looked to him in the darkness, taking in his expression. Clearly wondering if he was serious.

He held it. He was.

Eventually, she nodded her head and started to gather her things up. She didn’t have much—just a thin jacket and a flat pair of shoes. Obviously, she wouldn’t make it home like that. The mansion was a dozen-or-so miles away. But she’d given up anyway and started for the door. When she reached for the handle, he felt it snap in him like a cord.

“Stop,” he grunted. He turned away from her, feeling a strange heat clawing through his chest. “I don’t want the drama with Ryan if you die because of me,” he muttered. “Just sleep on the couch.”

Then he turned and stormed off into his room, locking the door behind him.