Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Champagne and rugby after this!” I snap at Jord, unlocking my phone for a photo of the view. Beyond the thick white snow at our feet, the lights of Veilarath glitter in the dark. Far too pretty to miss.
I open Instagram and pause over a new post from Asher.
I’ve watched him from a distance while buying the house in Chicago and settling back into my foundation life. Publishing is a dog-eat-dog world, but there’s some satisfaction in helping people chase their dreams. Especially when you've spent so much time running from nightmares.
My heart drops into a slow, heavy beat at his smile. God, he’s fucking beautiful. Bastard. His face is harder, like all he’s done is protein and weights, which doesn’t surprise me.
The reporter asks him about his new prodigy and how the training has been going. It’s the first I’ve heard of it, but I take it it has something to do with him retiring his board.
I need to stop staring and exit this app.
Mountain air fills my lungs in an inhale of ice and pine.
I read the caption three times before the letters stop swimming.
“Stop cheating, Khloe!” Jord shouts, jerking my head up.
Luce laughs behind him. “She’s been taking lessons from Asher!”
Khloe’s already halfway down the slope, her board spraying snow in a tail behind her. She’d counted down from three but launched at two, classic Khloe.
My thighs burn on the push off. The slope drops beneath me, leaving my stomach weightless for a second. Fresh powder peels away under my edge until all I hear is my heartbeat.
This is what I wanted for my birthday. My friends, the cold, and a sky throwing a color show above us.
My board cuts a clean line, and I’m smiling. Actually smiling. Wind roars in my ears as I lean harder into the slope, chasing speed. For once, he disappears from my head.
A hand clamps around my arm and the force spins me in a controlled circle. Expensive cologne fills my nose as we slide to a stop in a drift, my back hitting a solid wall.
“Happy birthday, Venom," he murmurs, so low only I can hear.
My lungs stop working until I feel dizzy, and I lean into his warmth. “Ah, I should have known Khloe wouldn’t listen to my rules.”
“Rules?” Asher slides around to the front of me, and holy fuck, six months did nothing to cool what he does to my body.
His head tilts. “Now you and I both know I don’t follow any rules.”
I sniff. “True.”
“So I’ve come to this conclusion.” His hand laces with mine.
“Oh, and what is that?”
The corner of his mouth tips up. “That I’m done giving you space.”
My chest aches. I picture him in my bed, his mouth on my skin each morning until I forget every nightmare that came before him.
I want him more than I want anything.
My smile slips. Cold sinks through my gloves as my fingers loosen around his.
The House needs heirs, and Asher still has no idea what Emeric took from me.
He deserves a choice.
“Asher…” I shake my head, but his grip tightens. “I can’t do this to you.”
“Do what?” His free hand finds the back of my neck, fingers sliding through my hair. Drawing me forward, his forehead touches mine.
My throat closes.
“You have a family line to continue. La Maison needs—and I…”
Have survived bullets, blades, captivity, and Emeric’s bullshit. Yet this… this I can't even say.
I can’t have children.
“I know, Venom.”
I still.
“I know what he fucking did to you, and I wish I could bring him back alive so I could kill him all over again.”
He caresses the frantic pulse in my neck. “Maybe this time I’d leave his body parts in his piano instead of sending them to Parker and Aléia.”
For a moment, he goes distant, fingers flexing against my neck. Maybe he’s back in that room with Emeric, reliving each butchering moment.
“But I can’t.” His breath warms my frozen lips. “He’s dead, yet he still has you thinking you owe people shit.”
“Asher, your family…”
“Atlas and Punk can spit out some kids once they’re done pretending they hate each other.”
A broken laugh escapes me.
He cups my neck harder, keeping me against him.
“I need you.” His voice cracks, grip tensing. “I swear to fucking God, Ivy, I need you. I love you. I don’t care about heirs, bloodlines, the codex, or any of that shit. They can carve my name off every wall on this island. They can burn La Maison to the fucking ground.”
My eyes sting until hot tears spill over my cheeks. “Asher…”
“I choose you.”
“I’m—I’d never ask you to!” I fist both hands in his jacket.
Fuck it. I kiss him.
He steps us back as his tongue slips between my lips.
Home. He’s home.
His hands land on my ass, dragging me over the thick line of his cock and suddenly he’s not close enough. Not fucking inside me.