Page 33 of Scars Run Deep

Nothing had followed its usual routine.

Nothing and no one.

Aurora hadn’t come out of her room with a burst of energy at her usual six a.m. and then bounced through the house toward the home gym to carry out her daily workout.

And the oddities this morning hadn’t even ended there.

Asher hadn’t been up and about at the crack of dawn either. Even with him being injured—something he’d only made worse by putting more strain on his arm by insisting on driving us out of that battle zone—it was still unheard of that he wouldn’t be up, that he’d actually slept in. That shit just didn’t happen with him.

When I’d headed downstairs, I hadn’t smelled the appetizing scent of some kind of gourmet breakfast emanating through the house, as was the usual custom. Jonah hadn’t been in the kitchen at all.

I was usually the last one up, dragging my ass onto one of the stools up at the kitchen island for breakfast while the two of them were already nearly done. Well, lately, that had included Aurora too.

Instead of wasting my time texting each one of them, I’d gone to Bryce. After a few words and him trying to skillfully evade the questions that were at the forefront of my mind about last night, he’d pointed me in the direction of Asher’s room.

As I neared it, I frowned at the sight of the door being ajar.

More oddities to add to the already heaping pile.

Ash always locked his door.

I reached it and peered inside.

My breath caught in my throat when it wasn’t him I first laid eyes on.

There, sound asleep in his bed, was none other than Aurora.

Her blonde hair, a striking contrast to his dark sheets, fanned out over the pillow that one of her cheeks was smushed against. The covers were pulled up to her chin. Actually, it looked like Asher had tucked her in. His side was bare, the entire duvet encompassing her, forming somewhat of a cocoon around her. That psychopath had thought to do that? What the—

She’d come here last night. She’d come to him last night.

That wasn’t good.

While I was working on my jealousy issues and I was becoming much more accepting of sharing her with him and Jonah, this was different. This wasn’t possessiveness or anything like that. This wasn’t fucking petty. It was really fucking worrying.

She’d touched darkness in that basement and she’d come to him.

This was fucking dangerous.

Something on his pillow caught my eye.

Before I could stop myself, I let curiosity lead the way, and I moved silently up to the bed.

Aurora was dead asleep, not stirring in the slightest even as I got right up close to the other side of the bed.

I recognized Asher’s handwriting scrawled across the folded manilla paper, her name on it.

I opened it and read a whole slew of surprising words from him.

Sweetheart,

Last night was a lot. Take your time. Absolutely no rush today.

When you’re ready to get up, there are some special salts in my bathroom. Use them. They’ll soothe the soreness—in your aching muscles. And your sweet cunt.

Send a text and Jonah will make you whatever your desire for breakfast.

Thank you for staying. And “fucking my black soul to oblivion” as you so eloquently put it.