Chapter 73

Third Person POV

“I shouldn’t have gone there with you,” Asher muttered, disappointed in himself for letting Mia talk him into going to the Nightwind Alpha house like they had.

“I think it helped,” Mia grinned, her white teeth flashing against the natural pink of her lips. “A lot.”

“That’s because it helped make her upset.” Asher gave her a scowl, his blood starting to boil. He’d hit a moment of weakness, running into Mia on the way to speak to Sienna.

Of course she’d convinced him to let her accompany him to talk to Sienna, and regretted it the moment the Alpha house came into sight.

He’d asked Mia to let him handle the truth on his own, and that, at least, was one thing they’d agreed on. She wanted to tease Sienna with the truth-she-didn’t-know a little anyway, which was cruel, but expected from her.

“I found it cute how little she really knows,” Mia shrugged. “Proud I know far more about you than she does.”

“It’s not cute how much I know about what you’re really doing.” Now was the time for Asher to face her, before they got back to the royal palace. He couldn’t keep quiet about it any longer.

“Are you going on about me being all up in your business?” Mia rolled her eyes all the way back in her head.

“You worked with the rogues.” Asher stopped walking, and so did she. She knew it wasn’t a question.

“I did,” she said with a slow smile, a chill of pure ice — and maybe a little fear, too — moving down Asher’s spine.

“How could you?” He and his wolf flared with anger, his fists clenching so tight he thought his fingers might break from the force.

“To make things worse for Sienna. But then again, it backfired a bit.” Mia seemed not to care a single bit about the lives that had been lost.

“People died, Mia.”

“They were supposed to.” The apathy in her words made him wonder why he ever considered being with her at all, at any point in his lifetime.

“You’ve changed.” Asher watched as she smiled. “For the worse.” Then the smile faded.

“I like to think it’s for the better.” Mia shrugged, turning her full attention on him. “And really, Alaric, sometimes you have to do what you have to do to win.”

“You’re no different than my uncle then, you know that, right?” Asher said with disgust, taking a step away from her.

“It’s what you do for power.”

“And where exactly do you see yourself going, hmm? How powerful are you going to get?” Asher’s brows shot up, surprised and utterly disappointed by the woman in front of him.

“I’d like to be the Queen, actually.”

What did she just say!?

“Are you serious right now?” Asher gaped at her, suddenly starting to feel like one hell of a used tissue.

“I am the most serious.” Mia eyed him, one of her hips jutted out as she stood there strong, holding her place.

“That’s not happening,” Asher laughed, turning to start walking again. It was time he got to the palace and spoke to his uncle.

Mia grabbed his arm so tightly, with such surprising strength, that he froze mid-step. “Don’t make me force it.”

“What the hell could you even do to force it?” Asher ripped his arm from her grasp, proving he was stronger. But he knew the force that was Mia; she would stop at absolutely nothing.

“You don’t want to find out.” She gave him that terrifyingly calm smile, one that screamed chaos.

“I don’t even know you anymore,” Asher murmured, disappointment settling through him. It was time he finally accepted that Mia had become someone he’d never want to associate with.

“That’s what years apart does to a relationship,” she shrugged, picking up her pace to keep up with him.

“Listen, I have to talk to my uncle. There are so many more important things for me to be worrying about right now.” Asher shook his head, having a hard time looking at her.

“I missed you, Alaric,” Mia said, a heat to her words. A heat he refused to let himself fall for, as alluring as she was.

“I can’t do this right now.” His voice shook, and he hated himself for it. Showing any speck of weakness in front of Mia meant trouble.

For once, she respected him, stopping and letting him walk away, his head swirling with a million different thoughts.

When he reached the palace, his head was no clearer than it had been — in fact, it was even worse. He was going to face his uncle, something he’d been imagining for the last ten years.

Asher walked into the palace like he’d always used to, the guards bowing their heads in respect, a few looking at him in awe. He was a ghost come back to life, having been mourned for years by the entire palace.

He traversed the maze of hallways deeper into the palace, reaching his uncles quarters, where two guards were stationed on either side of the huge oak door.

“I’m here to see my uncle,” Asher announced, though the guards surely already knew that, because they opened the door for him, motioning him inside.

His uncle stood with his hands behind his back, gazing out the window at the town below. He didn’t look back or acknowledge Asher’s arrival for a long moment.

“You’re back,” he stated, making no move to turn around. Asher stayed closer to the doors, choosing not to move further into the room.

“I am,” he affirmed, staring at the back of his uncles balding head.

“I thought you’d never return. Wasn’t that what we agreed?” The tension in the room was stifling, but Asher had expected that.

“It’s what I was forced into. I never agreed to it.” Asher thought back to the day he had to run away, leaving behind his life’s purpose.

“It was a mistake not to eliminate you that day too.” Malice filled his uncle’s words, taking Asher aback for the briefest of moments. There was still so much hatred burrowed into his uncle’s soul, and he wondered how miserable a life he must lead to wake up every day feeling that dark.

“How unfortunate,” Asher said cooly, holding back a bitter laugh. “Looks like you’ll have to live with that mistake now.”

“What do you want?” His uncle snapped, finally turning to face him. “Is it the throne?”

“Not right away,” Asher said, meaning it. He hadn’t come to rip the throne from his uncle.

No, he’d come to watch his slow demise, to see him crumble and fall exactly the way he deserved to.

“You’re not fit to lead,” the King spat, storming towards Asher, his stale breath making him wince.

This close, Asher could see the way his uncle’s eye twitched, the stress of the great Alaric’s return weighing him down to the bottom of the ocean.

“I believe that’s up for discussion. Personally, I don’t believe a murderer should hold the throne, but you probably think the opposite.” Asher couldn’t help the sly smile that spread across his face.

“Sit down,” his uncle hissed, stomping to his side of the desk like an angry child. “We have quite a few things to discuss, don’t we?”

Asher lowered himself into the plush seat across from him, his heart pounding just a little faster in his chest.

“Oh, we certainly do.”