CHAPTER 005: A NEW RULE

AUTHOR;

“You called,” Ashley answered, pushing the door to the study open, her fist tightening hard against the thick frame of the door, steadying herself with it.

Ryder sat still, eyes hooded, a pen flickering in his palm. The look in his eyes was fierce, not entirely new, but Ashley knew there was more to this stern look.

Just last night, she had disobeyed him. Mason had offered a half-filled bottle of amber drink to her, and she lifted the bottle at intervals, gulping down the contents till she no longer felt her head.

Ryder had found her where Mason was almost pressing against her, and quite unlike him, he carried her up to her bedroom. Now that she stood before him in the study, trying to act like she knew nothing about what this impromptu meeting between just the two of them was about, she knew it all. The silence lingered, just the cracking sound of a pen hitting his turgid palm.

Ashley moved her eyes around, the last time she sneaked in here, she wasn't lucky enough to take everything in, he had caught her while at it.

The room smelled of aged, expensive leather, polished wood, and the faint metallic tang of power oozing off the man sitting behind the huge desk.

Then he stood, the seat creaking a little. He took slow calculated steps, he stopped in the doorway.

“Sit,” he said finally, as if reading her defiance and deciding to allow it.

She walked in fully, and lowered herself onto the edge of the leather chair opposite him, her spine straight, hands folded tightly in her lap.

Her mother was conveniently absent… again. “Work calls,” she’d said with an apologetic smile that morning, airkissing her cheeks before running off.

Ryder watched her for a long moment, those icy blue eyes, then he paced the room slowly, hands tight behind his back like he was restraining himself.

“Since you’re living here now,” he began, voice low and commanding, “there are rules.”

Ashley’s jaw tightened. Of course, there had to be rules around the demon. What other way was her life supposed to get messier? He walked briskly and slumped back into his seat.

“Rule one,” he continued, sliding a single sheet of paper across the desk toward her. His handwriting was bold and precise. “You do not leave the grounds without my permission or an escort. School, and back. That’s it.”

Her fingers itched to crumple the paper. Instead, she left it untouched.

“Rule two: No visitors. No friends. No boys.” His gaze sharpened. “Especially not at this house.”

A quiet, bitter laugh almost escaped her. As if she had friends who would dare come here, knowing whose house it was.

“Rule three: Curfew is ten o’clock. You’re in your room by then. Lights out by eleven.”

Ashley finally met his eyes. “I’m eighteen, not twelve.”

“A little bit of an adult, you mean? You’re my stepdaughter,” Ryder said, the word dropping like a blade between them. Something dark flickered across his expression. “And you’re under my roof. My protection. My rules.”

Protection? The word tasted wrong. She wondered what exactly he thought she needed protecting from. Him, maybe.

He continued listing them, each one more controlling than the last.

‘No wandering the east wing after dark.’

‘No questions about pack business.’

‘No touching anything in the locked rooms on the third floor.’

‘No lurking around with Mason.’

She was to report any strange feelings, dreams, or “incidents” immediately.

And the final one, delivered with a slow, deliberate lean forward:

“You will stay out of my way, Ashley. Speak when spoken to. Keep that pretty little head down like you used to at school.” His voice dropped. “It kept you safe before. It’ll keep you safe here.”

He expected her to argue. She could see it in the slight tilt of his head, the way his fingers drummed once against the desk. He wanted her to push back so he could remind her exactly who held the power now.

Ashley said nothing.

She picked up the paper, scanned it once, then folded it neatly and slipped it into the pocket of her hoodie. Her movements were calm. Deliberate. Obedient on the surface.

But inside, rebellion burned hot and silent, the legs of her chair scraped noisily against the floor as she stood.

“Anything else… Dad?” she asked sweetly, the title dripping with venom.

Ryder’s eyes flashed. For a second, the temperature in the room seemed to rise. He stood slowly, rounding the desk until he towered over her. Ashley forced herself not to shrink back as he braced one hand on the door, leaning in close enough that she caught the scent of him…. Mild, yet dangerously addictive.

“Careful, young lady,” he murmured, voice rough. “I know exactly how much you hate this. How much you hate me. Use that fire wisely. Break my rules, Ashley, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Her lips lifted at the corners. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ryder straightened, clearly unconvinced. He knew her too well. Years of watching her at Stoneridge had taught him she was a quiet rebel, not a loud one. The kind who followed rules just enough to survive… then found cracks to slip through.

“Dinner is at seven,” he said dismissively, already turning back to his desk. “Your mother expects us to play happy family when she’s home. Don’t disappoint her.”

Ashley curled her fingers around the knob, She paused as she pulled the door just once.

“Anything else I should know?” she asked without turning around. “Or are these rules just because you enjoy controlling everything around you?”

Silence stretched.

Then, softly, almost too softly for her to hear, he answered.

“Some rules are for your safety. Others…” He exhaled. “Others are for mine.”

She didn’t ask what that meant. She didn’t want to know. Ashley closed the study door behind her with a soft click that felt louder than it should have. In the hallway, she pulled the folded list from her pocket, glanced at it once more, then deliberately crumpled it into a tight ball.

She wouldn’t throw it away. Not yet.

But as she walked toward the grand staircase, she was already mentally mapping the mansion’s layout. The east wing, the third floor, the locked rooms… Those would be her playground.

“He married my mother without asking, and now he's making rules too.” She scoffed. “Now, we will play it out.”

Ryder thought he could cage her with words on paper. He had no idea how tired and fed up she had become with being invisible… and how satisfying it would feel to make him regret every single rule he’d just laid down, and that Mason, was about to become her best friend.