Chapter 200 Don’t Believe What’s Said in Bed

Chapter 200 Don’t Believe What’s Said in Bed

Ember's POV

Right at the critical moment when I was confronting Zane, a sharp siren suddenly blared from outside.

Then several stone-faced police officers walked in with quick, purposeful strides. They went straight up to Zane, showed their badges, and said, "Zane Sawyer, we've received a report that you're suspected of intentional homicide. Please come with us for questioning."

Zane looked at the officers in front of him and didn't resist. He simply turned and gave me one long, deep look before being taken away — his eyes filled with despair and fierce, burning resentment.

Then he was led away by the police.

The moment Zane's figure completely disappeared, the entire banquet hall erupted into chaos, with guests buzzing with chatter. I stood alone in the middle of the red carpet, watching the back of Zane as the police took him away, my heart a mess of tangled feelings. There was anger at being deceived, disappointment in him — but more than anything, what I felt in that moment was an indescribable sense of regret. I never could have imagined that Zane, who had always seemed so gentle and refined in my eyes, would do something so reckless and extreme behind the scenes.

Asher's face was dark as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the banquet hall, pulling me all the way back to the apartment.

He kicked the front door open with a loud bang, then spun around and slammed it shut behind him.

Once inside, Asher tossed his cane aside without a second thought, his dark eyes locking immediately onto the wedding dress wrapped around my body.

He reached out and roughly grabbed the neckline of my wedding dress, yanking it forward hard.

With a sharp tearing sound, the expensive satin fabric split right down the middle.

"Asher, what are you doing!"

I cried out in shock, but before I could finish my sentence, he had already shoved me down onto the soft sofa.

His kiss came crashing down on me like a storm — full of endless rage and the wild desperation of someone who'd nearly lost something forever. Asher forced my lips apart with his tongue, locking onto mine and sucking so hard that the root of my tongue went numb and aching.

In the suffocating lack of air, all my pent-up grievances exploded out of me, and I raised my hand and slapped him with everything I had.



A sharp crack rang through the living room.

Asher's face snapped to one side. His tall frame went rigid for a moment, and a thin line of red quickly seeped from the corner of his mouth. I had hit him hard — and he could have dodged it, but he didn't.

I lay on the sofa gasping, my chest heaving, my eyes so red they looked ready to bleed. I stared at him and shouted through tears, "What gives you the right to come and go as you please? What gives you the right to care who I take as my mate? What gives you the right to—"

My voice finally choked off completely. Because I suddenly caught a flash of something fragile in Asher's eyes.

Asher slowly turned back to face me. He didn't even bother wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. He just pressed his lips tightly together, reached out, and pulled me hard into his arms. He held me so tight it felt like he was trying to press me into his very bones.

"Let go of me—" I struggled with everything I had.

But Asher just buried his face deep in the curve of my shoulder. A moment later, I felt several drops of something warm fall one by one onto my collarbone. He was crying.

"I really almost didn't make it back." Asher's voice was so hoarse it barely sounded like him. "When I went down from the gunshot, all I could think was — if I died out there in a foreign country, what would happen to you? The bullet hit less than two centimeters from my heart. The doctors all said I was lucky to be alive. In the hospital, I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. I was afraid that if I did, I'd never open them again. The only thing that kept me going was knowing you were back home waiting for me."

As he spoke, his arms tightened around me even more, pressing hard enough that my bones ached.

"Ember, I fought through hell to get back to you — and the moment I walked in the door, I saw you in a wedding dress, marrying someone else."

That last sentence came out barely above a whisper, as faint as a helpless sigh. But every single word drove into my heart like a sharp needle.

At that, my tears finally broke completely. I stopped fighting. I grabbed the back of his shirt with both hands, my nails digging into the fabric, and sobbed against his shoulder until my whole body shook.

"I… I thought you were dead… the news said… said you…" I couldn't get a single complete sentence out. I was drowning in panic and the terror of what had almost been.

Seeing me cry, Asher slowly lifted my face and gently kissed away the tears at the corners of my eyes. They were salty, bitter, and warm.

His kisses traced from the corners of my eyes down to my cheeks, then from my cheeks to the corners of my lips, and then he kissed me deeply again. This time, his kiss was impossibly gentle, impossibly careful.

My heart clenched painfully, and I couldn't hold back anymore. I raised my hands and wrapped them around his neck.

The moment I responded, Asher's breathing went rough and heavy. He kissed me deeper, his large hand slowly sliding in through the torn neckline of my wedding dress.

Clothes fell to the living room floor one by one. The sofa was too small, so Asher scooped me up and carried me toward the bedroom.

Then I was tossed somewhat roughly into the soft bedding. When Asher's tall frame came over me again, I immediately noticed the white bandages wrapped around his chest — already seeping through with red.

"Your wound…" I said, worried.

"It's fine." Asher lowered his head and pressed his lips to mine, cutting off everything else I might have said.

Then the scorching heat of an Alpha pushed through every last defense I had, reaching deep into the warmth of my body. The intensity of it — so overwhelming it made my scalp tingle — drew a low groan from Asher too. He collapsed weakly into the curve of my neck, let out a long, slow breath of heat, and said in a rough voice, "Being inside you, feeling you hold me this tight — this is the only way I know I'm actually still alive."

Hearing his words, tears leaked from the corners of my eyes again without my permission. I couldn't tell anymore whether it was from pain or heartache.

Asher began to move inside me, slow and deliberate. His pace was unhurried, each thrust deep, as if he was trying to confirm something over and over again. He gripped my waist and pressed close to my ear, demanding in a low voice, "Has Zane ever been here — while I was gone?"

I was too lost in sensation to think straight, and could only answer through tears, "No… no, he hasn't…"

"Say my name."

"…Asher."

"Wrong." Asher frowned and thrust deeper than before, hard enough to pull a muffled cry from me.

"Call me mate." His voice was commanding, leaving no room for argument.

I bit down hard on my lower lip. Thinking of how he had once rejected me, how he had hurt me — stubbornness rose up in me and I refused to say it. Seeing I wasn't cooperating, Asher deliberately shifted his approach, grinding against me in a way designed to wear me down.

"Are you going to say it or not?"

"…mate." My voice came out so small it was barely a whisper.

Hearing that word, the shadow that had been pressing down behind Asher's eyes all day finally lifted a little, and the corners of his handsome lips curved up with a hint of satisfaction.

"Say it again."

"Mate…"

"Promise me. Be my mate. Come back to me." Asher murmured against my ear.

I was so overwhelmed I could barely hold myself together, let alone form a complete sentence. Caught in the tide of it all, I answered him in broken, breathless fragments, "…I promise…"

Hearing my promise, Asher finally seemed satisfied. His movements softened after that, and he kissed my brows, the tip of my nose, and the corners of my lips in a slow, tender stream.

I don't know how long that storm lasted. My body was so exhausted it felt like it was falling apart. I don't even know how it ended — at some point I simply couldn't hold on anymore, and everything went dark as I passed out from sheer exhaustion.

When I opened my eyes again, the bedroom curtains were still drawn tight, the room dim and shadowy, with no way to tell whether it was morning or noon outside.

As if sensing my movement, a large warm hand reached over almost immediately and pulled me naturally into a broad chest.

"Sleep a little longer." Asher nuzzled the top of my head affectionately with his chin.

I opened my eyes, and the memories from the night before slowly came filtering back. Everything that had happened in that bed — what I had said out loud, what I had shamefully agreed to — came rushing back to me all at once.

I turned my head and looked at the handsome face right in front of me, close enough to fill my entire view, and felt a surge of irritation rise up in me, my teeth practically itching with it. "Asher."

"Mm." He answered with his eyes still closed.

"Let go." I said coldly.

"No." Asher replied without a hint of shame.

I took a deep breath, anger flaring up inside me, and kicked him hard in his uninjured leg.

"Hss—" Asher flinched sharply in pain, but even so, the arm locked around my waist didn't loosen even slightly. He opened his eyes and looked at me with an almost wounded expression. "Ember, you're trying to kill your mate."

"You're not my mate." I let out a cold snort and wrenched myself free from his arms. I sat up, pulling the tangled blanket around me, and looked down at him with an icy expression. "At most, you're an ex-husband."

Asher propped himself up and sat up too.

"That's not what you were saying last night. You called me mate yourself, and you promised to get back together with me." He threw it right back at me.

"Never trust what a man says in bed — and I'd strongly suggest you don't trust a single word a woman says under the covers either." I held his gaze and fired back without flinching.