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Naya pov
Last Updated:
2025-04-15 06:16:01
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HIS Little One Asher pov
The air changed the second I crossed the border.It wasn’t just colder. It was cleaner, sharper, like walking into a place too ancient to belong to the rest of the world. The sky overhead was silver instead of blue, and the trees hummed with power I didn’t trust and didn't like eitherI didn’t care.Let the magic bristle around me. Let the guards follow me with wide eyes and tense hands. They knew who I was. The name alone bought me silence.Asher Sanchez.There was weight in it. Power. History. The kind that made even the Fae step back.But names didn’t matter right now. Not really. Not when she was still gone. Not when I could still feel that bond like a thread wrapped tight around my chest, pulling, always pulling toward her. Ever since the day I met herAnd she was here. I knew it in my bones.The palace rose in the distance like it had grown out of the cliffs themselves, beautiful in a way that didn’t comfort, only warned.Two guards approached, pale armor gleaming.“I need an au
HIS Little One Asher pov
The air changed the second I crossed the border.It wasn’t just colder. It was cleaner, sharper, like walking into a place too ancient to belong to the rest of the world. The sky overhead was silver instead of blue, and the trees hummed with power I didn’t trust and didn't like eitherI didn’t care.Let the magic bristle around me. Let the guards follow me with wide eyes and tense hands. They knew who I was. The name alone bought me silence.Asher Sanchez.There was weight in it. Power. History. The kind that made even the Fae step back.But names didn’t matter right now. Not really. Not when she was still gone. Not when I could still feel that bond like a thread wrapped tight around my chest, pulling, always pulling toward her. Ever since the day I met herAnd she was here. I knew it in my bones.The palace rose in the distance like it had grown out of the cliffs themselves, beautiful in a way that didn’t comfort, only warned.Two guards approached, pale armor gleaming.“I need an au
HIS Little One Asher pov
The air changed the second I crossed the border.It wasn’t just colder. It was cleaner, sharper, like walking into a place too ancient to belong to the rest of the world. The sky overhead was silver instead of blue, and the trees hummed with power I didn’t trust and didn't like eitherI didn’t care.Let the magic bristle around me. Let the guards follow me with wide eyes and tense hands. They knew who I was. The name alone bought me silence.Asher Sanchez.There was weight in it. Power. History. The kind that made even the Fae step back.But names didn’t matter right now. Not really. Not when she was still gone. Not when I could still feel that bond like a thread wrapped tight around my chest, pulling, always pulling toward her. Ever since the day I met herAnd she was here. I knew it in my bones.The palace rose in the distance like it had grown out of the cliffs themselves, beautiful in a way that didn’t comfort, only warned.Two guards approached, pale armor gleaming.“I need an au
HIS Little One Asher's pov
Something was wrong.I didn’t have proof. No phone call. No message.Just this… pull in my chest. This itch under my skin like the bond between us was fraying, slipping further out of reach.She should’ve come back by now.She always ran when she was overwhelmed. I got that. But she didn’t stay gone. Not like this. Not this long.I leaned back in my chair, jaw tight, fingers tapping the edge of my desk. My office was quiet except for the sound of my beta pacing near Ethan. Loyal to the bone. Deadly in a fight. He’d known me since we were kids, and he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut when I got like this.“Ethan,” I said finally, my voice low, steady. Dangerous. “Find her.”He didn’t even blink. “How far out?”“Wherever she went after the woods. She ran. She was upset. She didn’t come back.” My hands curled into fists. “She should’ve come back. At least to the restaurant”He nodded once, already moving. “I’ll check the security cams along the border. Maybe she headed toward town
HIS Little One Nayas pov
The room was too quiet.Too soft.The silken sheets beneath me weren’t chains, but somehow they still felt like a trap.I sat on the edge of the massive bed Arlo had offered—more like insisted—I use. My hands gripped the edge, knuckles white, heart loud in my ears.Safe.That’s what I was supposed to be now.So why did it feel like I was just in another cage?I exhaled slowly and looked around the room. Gold-trimmed walls. A massive window draped in rich green velvet. The faint smell of lavender. It was beautiful. Luxurious.Wrong.I didn’t belong here.My fingers brushed the inside of my wrist, where faint marks still lingered—reminders of iron cuffs, the cold sting of captivity.I shouldn’t be here. Not in the land of the Fae. Not in this bed.Not near Arlo.He hadn’t stopped staring at me since they brought me in. Like I was some ghost he hadn’t expected to see again.I guess I hadn’t expected to see him either.Not after everything.Not after the woods. After he and Asher, argued,
HIS Little One Nayas pov
The silence after I said it stretched too long.He didn’t deny it.Didn’t even flinch.Just sat there on the floor across from me like he wasn’t a prince of the freaking Fae realm. Like he hadn’t just kept a mountain-sized secret from me.I stared at him, blanket clutched tight around me.Arlo didn’t move.“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to be Arlo to you,” he said finally, voice low. “Not the prince. Not the heir. Just… me.”I laughed. It came out wrong—cracked and bitter.“Well, congrats. You got what you wanted.”I stood and paced toward the far wall, needing space. Air. Anything but this tight, tangled feeling in my chest. I was still too sore to move fast, but it didn’t stop the fury curling in my gut.“You don’t get it,” I said, turning back to him. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. What I just ran from. And now I’m stuck here, in another prison I don’t understand, and the one person I thought I might be able to trust turns out to be a damn prince.”His face flickered
HIS Little One Arlo's pov
I couldn’t breathe the moment I saw her.I’d pictured this a thousand times—running into Naya again, hearing her sharp tongue, or watching her eyes roll when I tried to tease her. But not like this.Not with her sitting there like a shadow of herself.I saw the bruises before I saw her eyes. Old ones. Fresh ones. Some still healing. I saw the way she sat—too still like any movement might trigger pain. Her voice when she spoke was hollow, quiet. I didn’t need to be a healer to know something had broken her.And she’d used my name to save herself.She said I was a friend.It shouldn’t have hurt.But it did.I kept my voice even, and calm when I asked where she’d been. But inside, I was unraveling. The last time I saw her, she was sprinting into the trees after telling me and Asher to get over ourselves. She’d made a sassy remark and vanished. I thought she needed space, time—gods, I even thought maybe she’d rejected both of us. I was angry. Bitter. Heartbroken.But I never thought she w
HIS Little One Nayas pov
The forest is quiet. Too quiet.Every time I take a step, the ground crunches under me—dry leaves, broken twigs, damp earth. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking, or what direction I’m even going in anymore. My legs hurt. My ribs hurt. Everything hurts.But I’m free.I keep reminding myself that. I got out.I’m not chained up in Victor’s damm prison anymore. What kind of stepfather did I even end up with, I’m not waiting for someone to come sell me like I’m nothing. I made it out. I survived.So why does it still feel like I’m in danger?The woods around me have changed. At first, it was just trees and dirt. Now the trees are taller. The air is heavier. It feels like something is watching me—something that doesn’t want me here.I pause under a low-hanging branch, trying to catch my breath.That’s when I heard the footsteps.Not from behind. From ahead. Smooth. Steady. I barely have time to turn around before they appear.Three of them.They step out of the shadows like they were ma
HIS Little One Nayas pov
Victor’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater, each word distorted, sluggish, unreal.“Don’t let her bleed too much.”Then darkness—like someone poured ink into my mind. The last thing I saw before it swallowed me was the sunset—orange, soft, beautiful—and so wrong. It was like the world had no idea what was happening to me.And then—nothing.No dreams. No pain. Just the cold silence of unconsciousness.When I woke up, it was to chains.Heavy ones, cuffed around my wrists and ankles, lined with faint runes that burned cold against my skin. I was lying on a thin mat that smelled like mildew and blood. The room—or maybe it was a cell—was stone, damp, lit only by a flickering bulb overhead.I didn’t cry.Not then.Because the part of me that could cry, the part that would’ve panicked or screamed or begged—was still somewhere in that darkness.I don’t know how long I’ve been here.Time blurs in captivity. It doesn’t matter how many times someone drags you to your feet, shoves
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