Page 8 of Scars Run Deep

“You… can’t… stop him,” I croaked out.

“No. But you can,” he said, his deep-blue eyes shining with something so foreign to me.

Hope.

I frowned. “You see… the state… of me.”

“I also see your potential. He’s had you learn with specific trainers to ensure your skills were capped, so you’d never be a threat to him, so he could continue to keep you beneath his boot.”

“No. He doesn’t… want… weakness… in me.”

“He also doesn’t want you stronger than him. He sees that potential too and it scares him like nothing else.”

“Why are you… why… help me?”

“Because, you’re the heir we all need. Sooner rather than later. But to become king, you need to dethrone your father.”

What he was suggesting was an act of treason, through and through.

“I don’t… I don’t… understand. Why… risk this?”

“Great change requires risk and sacrifice.”

“Not… strong enough.”

“That’s Carson’s indoctrination. It’s far from the truth. He recognizes how strong you are, how capable, that your potential actually eclipses his. Do you really believe he thinks you weak when he took things this far today? When he keeps taking things way too far with you? These are acts of fear. He’s using extreme means to force your subjugation.” He stroked my hair. “Enough is enough, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” I rasped, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment against the strange soft and gentle caress that I couldn’t reconcile, that I didn’t understand, something utterly new to me.

Any time somebody made contact, it was to inflict pain. To damage me.

Never to soothe me.

“Then let’s get started.”

3

~Asher~

Present Day

“Asher!”

The ferocious roar blasted through my subconscious.

I jolted awake, sucking in a harsh breath.

Blood.

It was the first thing I smelled.

The first thing I tasted.

Then something else… smoke?

Not the comforting kind of tobacco smoke either.

And… was that gas?

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