Asher's
The stench of blood never really leaves a place. It seeps into the boards, clings to the brick, and lingers in the air long after the body is gone. That's why Adrian chose this warehouse to leave his stench on people.
The Serpents had once run guns here, years ago, when Rose still held her court like a queen with fire in her veins. Those days were long gone. Now the hall was gutted rusted beams, rotting wood, a concrete floor pocked with water stains. It wasn't a throne room. It was a carcass. It was past glory.
But Adrian needed the illusion of power. And illusion was the only crown he had left.
I stood at his side, silent and still, watching as he paced before the ragged semicircle of men who had gathered. Old Serpent lieutenants, betrayers, scraps of what had once been a family, now little more than scavengers clinging to whatever carcass of power they could find.
Adrian's voice carried, sharp and commanding, though desperation curled around every word.
"We are not finished," he barked, his fist striking the table in the center of the room. "You think betrayal broke us? You think Rose crushed us?"
The name hung heavy in the room. A few men shifted uneasily. Even now, her shadow loomed larger than his.
"She took what was mine," Adrian spat. "But I am still here. We are still here. And we will take it all back. with Nightmare with us we can win"
A ripple of muttering stirred through the men. Some nodded. Some sneered. One a broad-shouldered lieutenant named Calder, who had once kissed Rose's hand like she was a goddess leaned forward.
"With what army?" he asked flatly.
The room stilled.
Adrian froze, then turned his head with the slow precision of a snake sighting prey.
"With the army I give you," he said. His smile was sharp, but thin. "With the strength you forgot you had. Or…"
The pause stretched. Then, sudden as a striking viper, Adrian drew the knife at his hip and slashed it across Calder's throat.
The man jerked, gargled, then slumped forward, crimson spilling across the table.
A collective breath hissed through the room. Fear thickened the air, choking it.
Adrian wiped the blade clean on Calder's coat and smiled again.
"Anyone else forget who I am?" he asked.
Silence.
Good. Fear was something. Not loyalty, but something. And something was enough to keep them still.
I didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't so much as breathe differently. I'd seen worse. Done worse. Adrian's theatrics were nothing new.
What mattered wasn't Calder's death. It was the room's reaction. The way fear straightened spines and sealed lips. That was Adrian's power now a knife and the willingness to use it recklessly.
But fear is fragile. Fear turns fast.
I kept my eyes forward, expression unreadable, the perfect shadow. To them, I was Adrian's ally, his right hand. That illusion mattered. Without me standing here, Adrian's bluff might fold too soon.
What they didn't see. What Rose would never see was the truth.
I was not here for Adrian. I was not here for them.
I was here for her.
Only her.
Adrian dismissed the men after another half hour of speeches. Promises dripped from his tongue like venom promises of territory reclaimed, of riches, of revenge. Empty words, but they lapped them up. Fear makes men eager to believe.
When the last of them filed out, Adrian turned to me, grinning like a child who thought he'd won a game he barely understood.
"You see how they listen?" he said, sheathing his knife. "They remember. They know I am not finished."
I studied him. The manic glint in his eyes. The way his hands twitched even when still. He was a man cracking at the edges, barely held together by arrogance and rage.
"They listened because you killed one of them," I said. My voice was calm, even. "That is not loyalty. That is survival."
He waved a dismissive hand. "Fear is loyal enough."
I said nothing.
Because here was the truth and what Adrian believed in. He believed fear was a foundation and that violence was enough to hold power. He believed I stood here because I saw the same truth.
But he was wrong.
I didn't stand at his side out of loyalty, or fear, or ambition. I stood here because I wanted him close. Because a snake is easiest to cut when it coils within arm's reach.
Adrian thought he could use me. The fool didn't realize I was already using him.
Shadowhand had his leash wrapped tight around Adrian's throat. That much was obvious. Every time he boasted of their "support," his voice trembled with the memory of what would happen if he lost it. He was no king. He was a hound, yapping because his master gave him a chain long enough to reach scraps.
Let him yap because that is all he can do.
Let him gather the remnants. Let him paint his bloody little throne in whatever abandoned ruin would have him.
Because the more noise he made, the more attention he drew.
And while he drew it, I would work unseen.
Rose didn't know. She couldn't. She would never understand why I chose to stand here, why I let Adrian breathe a day longer when I could end him in an instant.
She thought me obsessed. Possessive. Dangerous. She wasn't wrong.
But obsession isn't blind. It's sharp. Focused. Relentless.
And my focus was her.
Adrian wanted to break her. He thought betrayal had already cracked her throne. He thought she was weak, scattered, vulnerable.
But I had seen her. I had stood close enough to feel the fire in her veins. She was not breakable. She was inevitable. And she was mine.
The others didn't see it. Adrian certainly didn't. But I did.
And I would protect that inevitability with blood, with shadows, with whatever mask I had to wear.
Even if she hated me for it.
Later, as we left the warehouse, Adrian walked with a swagger that made my fists itch. He truly believed he'd regained control. "Shadowhand will call a council meeting and Rose will have to obey"
"They'll fall in line," he said. "With you beside me, they see strength. They see inevitability. Together, Asher, we'll tear her down. Together, we'll take back everything."
I let him talk.
"She won't bow," I said when he finally paused.
Adrian chuckled. "Then she'll break. I will break her"
He didn't see the way my jaw tightened. He didn't hear the silent promise I made in that moment. I promise of eternal pain and torture.
She would not break. Not while I breathed.
Adrian thought me his ally. But I was already counting the ways he would fall.
The timing. The method. The moment I'd cut his throat like he'd cut Calder's.
Not yet. Not here.
He was still useful.
But when that use ended, when his noise threatened to drown her fire instead of shield it…
I would end him.
Quietly, Efficiently, slowly with pain and Without regret.
And she would never know.
Because my devotion was not something she asked for. It was not something she wanted. It was not even something she would forgive.
But it was mine. And it was absolute.
And if I had to walk with wolves, dine with snakes, and dance with demons to keep her safe, then so be it.
Let Adrian laugh. Let him gloat, let him smile.
He was already a dead man.
He just hadn't realized it yet.