Page 3 of The Shadows of the Dawn

“We dated in high school!” Liam blurted out, voice trembling in time with his body’s shakes. Nikola scrutinized him. This spineless creature had once been Asher Black’s mate? “Uh, in secret, that is. Neither of us were out of the closet yet. I mean, there were rumors about Asher... you know, teenagers are ruthless.”

A pause. Liam’s dishonesty was a bitter film laying across his skin, like unwashed sweat. “You’re hiding something,” Nikola snarled.

“Christ, dude!” The Follower’s eyes flashed like the warning lights atop a police car. “We were kids. I didn’t know. I mean, I had to cover my case, or they’d target me, too. So, you know.” He clutched his hair and groaned lowly. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I’m not proud of what I did, but I was a stupid kid with stupid logic and survival instincts.”

“Dude,” Moss breathed.

Nikola recalled from ages ago Asher detailing the event that’d began his descent toward suicide. The first boyfriend who had joined in on the locker room attack that’d resulted in Asher being outed to his bigoted parents.

There was not a Moon Child on this planet, save perhaps the Goddess herself, who could’ve quelled the inferno raging in Nikola’s head. His ears rang, scarlet tinging the lenses of his vision.

He snatched Liam by the throat, causing Trish to scream. Liam spat, spittle flying off his canines as he wildly slashed at Nikola’s face, acting like a spooked alley cat. It took the collective strength of Veronica, Francis, and Katsuki to pry the two apart.

Bruises formed a ring around Liam’s neck, then began to fade. The shallow cuts beading with blood across Nikola’s cheeks were already healing. He did not feel any of them.

“You do not speak to Asher,” Nikola rumbled. “You do not look at Asher. I’ve killed in his name before. I will not hesitate to do so again.”

With that threat lingering in the air, Nikola shoved off his friends and followed Asher out of the window.

CHAPTER TWO

Asher

Asher’s hands were balled in his hair, muttering under his breath as he paced along the roof’s edge. Seeing Liam again, a thousand miles away from where he’d last seen him, a decade later... fuck. Hell, even if Asher had it in him to forgive Liam, the opportunity had been stolen from him.

Sure, Asher felt the murderous rage of the Blood God pounding inside of him whenever he looked at Liam, but he was used to that flavor of rage. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that Asher felt like the same helpless little teenager he had been over a decade prior. He could paint the walls with the insides of the peers who’d once tormented him if he wanted to with the strength of the Blood God, but that hadn’t been the case back then.

As Asher paced, he felt every blow as if it were happening all over again. The initial shove, the cackling taunts and howls, unique to groups of males with a target within sight, the taste of blood pooling in Asher’s mouth well before the taste meant life and sustenance.

And Liam had been there, kicking the hardest, his voice ringing above the rest. The same voice that’d given the basketball team the idea to hurt Asher when they’d accused Liam of being one of them faggots.

Asher let out a feral scream over the side of the Chicago roof. The chaotic patterns of it bouncing off the skyscraper windows, mingling with the sirens of metropolis traffic, were a soothing balm to the decade-old scar weeping fresh from inside his soul.

Movement shuffled behind him. He spun around, ready with his claws out to stop anyone or anything from hurting him ever again.

Nikola caught his wrists before Asher could fillet him like a fish. “My apologies for startling you,” Nikola said evenly. Asher forced himself to take a breath, not realizing how haggardly he had been breathing. “But I must say, we are no longer in Grander. Chicagoans may be alarmed by screams in the night.”

Asher tried to muster a snarky retort about gun violence or some shit, but he didn’t trust his voice. When he met Nikola’s heterochromatic eyes, he instantly hated what he saw in them. Sympathy. Pity. Nikola knows. Somehow the old dog had figured out the embarrassing existence that had been Asher’s high school life.

He shoved away with a half-hearted hiss, turning back to the lively streets, humans weaving about like consumerist ants. Sheesh, night life could get this busy? “The shithead blabbered, didn’t he?” Asher mumbled.

Nikola hesitated for half of a beat. “I might’ve coerced it out of him.” Another beat. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

“Nope,” came Asher’s immediate reply before Nikola had even finished the sentence.

Nikola accepted the dismissive response with a sigh. Asher wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to put it into words, but he genuinely appreciated how quickly Nikola had learned that to push Asher was to push him away.

Instead, Nikola gently laced his arms around Asher’s waist from behind, kissing the back of his neck.

“I love you,” Nikola murmured.

Asher tried and failed to stifle a goofy grin. “Tch. Love you, old man.”

“Hm, good,” Nikola rumbled, trailing heavier kisses beneath the ridge of Asher’s jawline. Asher swore beneath his breath. Nikola pressed Asher tighter against him, his erection slotting along the curve of Asher’s ass. The heat of their bodies felt molten in contrast to the cold Chicago night.

“Dammit,” Asher said, halfway a moan. “Too many bastards in that apartment.”

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