CHAPTER 5: AM I GAY?
ASHER'S POV
I know there are something is wrong.
Not wrong in the "someone's dying" kind of way. Wrong in the "my wolf won't shut the hell up and I can't breathe right" kind of way.
I've barely returned from the Blade's tower, just a quick detour to deliver a delayed encrypted message to the Northern border captain, but the second I cross the line back into the Silver Moon territory proper, my entire body feels... off.
The selection trials are wrapping up, and I should be focused on assessing the candidates. On rooting out weakness. Instead, my thoughts are a goddamn mess, completely tangled up in a single fight from earlier today.
Hunter.
That wiry little guy with the strange energy and the sharper-than-expected reflexes.
Where did he learn to fight like that?
He looked too young to be that experienced…
And let's not get me started on his scent.
His scent was faint then, off, almost like it didn't belong but the thing that shook me wasn't the fight. It was my wolf's reaction.
He stirred.
No, more than stirred. He lunged. Growled. Like… like the way people say their wolves behave when they find their mates.
Which is ridiculous. Insane, really. I might not be interested in the mate business but I am definitely sure that I like women.
So what is this fucking reaction?
He is a guy. A dude. Compact, lean, kind of pretty for a male, but still.
And yet…
There was something about the way he moved, the way his eyes locked with mine, that sent something shooting straight through my chest like a flash fire. And now, even hours later, my wolf won't settle. I feel like I am crawling out of my own skin.
It is infuriating
I tell myself I am just overthinking it. That the fight just left me on edge. He reminds me of someone I knew once. Someone from before I took the Blade's oath. But I know I am lying.
I reach the barracks, brushing past a few of the newer recruits with a nod I don't really mean. All I want is a cold drink, a quiet minute, and my damn bed.
I don't expect the scent.
It hits the moment I step into the room.
Warm. Bright. Fierce.
Not one I recognize and definitely not something someone is trying to mask or dull. This is something alive. It curls in the air like smoke, earthy and electric, with something under it that makes my whole body go rigid.
My wolf practically slams into my ribcage, trying to get out.
I stop dead in the doorway.
The room is dim, curtains drawn, light low. My duffel is still where I left it, under the bed and my bed itself is untouched.
But it's the scent that hijacks my brain. It smells like… like wildflowers in the rain. Lightning caught in a bottle.
I had forgotten I had been assigned a roommate. Apparently, this year's recruits are pushing the usual space capacity.
Still, this scent is driving me crazy and it's coming from his side of the room.
No.
That doesn't make sense.
I shut the door behind me and locked it out of habit. My fingers twitch against the knob. My jaw tightens.
"Calm down," I mutter to myself. "Get a grip."
I take a slow step inside. My boots creak softly against the old wood. I scan the room. Nothing seems out of place. His cloak is missing. So are his boots. There's steam curling under the bathroom door, soft and dense.
Shower's running.
I blink.
That scent, his scent is strongest near the bathroom.
My stomach lurches.
My body reacts before I even know what it's doing. Heat rushes under my skin, pooling low in my gut. I try to shake it off. I try, but—
Why the hell am I getting turned on?
By a guy?
I clench my fists. "No, no, no," I whisper.
I am not-
I've never even-
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
I back away from the bathroom door like it's cursed. Like if I stand there too long, I'll do something stupid. Something I can't take back.
The scent clings to me now. Like it's under my skin. Like it's in my head. My wolf is pacing hard, teeth bared, eyes gleaming.
Mate.
"Shut up," I hiss at him.
But I'm not even sure if I'm talking to him or myself anymore.
My heartbeat's hammering, blood pounding in my ears.
I hear the water shut off. Silence falls.
I panic.
Without thinking, I cross the room in three fast steps and toss myself onto my bed. I yank my cloak off and drape it over my face.
Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Go to-
I'm hard.
I feel everything, and that scent is still hanging in the air, teasing, testing, wrapping around my senses like a damn noose.
"I need air," I growl and leap up, almost knocking over the chair.
I don't even look at the bathroom door. I can't. I won't.
Because if I do, if I see him walk out with damp hair and flushed skin, smelling like that...
I don't know what I'll do.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
I grab my boots and fling open the door.
The cold night air slaps me hard across the face the second I'm outside, but it's still not enough. I keep walking. Past the barracks. Past the field. Deep into the trees until I can't smell him anymore.
I lean against a pine tree, panting like I just ran a hundred miles.
"Am I—?"
I stop.
No. I don't want to say it. I won't even think it.
But the image won't leave my mind.
Him. In the ring. Moving like wind and fire. Hunter. In the shower. It is the same scent.
Just who is this boy?!
Fuck.
What the hell is happening to me?