Asher From All American Novels & Stories

I squeezed my eyes shut as if that could erase the last ten seconds from my retinas. A tiny, bitter part of me, the part that hadn’t slept properly in weeks, wanted to be pissed. Everyone else is fucking everyone else, it hissed, while I’m out here collecting conspiracy theories and body counts. The front door creaked open a moment later and Ashley stood there, wrapped in a fluffy white robe tied so tight it looked like a straightjacket. Her face was the color of a stop sign. “Allison? Jesus, you gave me a heart attack!” she breathed, one hand clutching her chest.

Arabella’s POV Asher fell to the ground before my very own eyes. He was meant to duck and take cover, just in time for me to hit Alpha Nick with a bolt but Nick was a strong man. He was also a smart man as well. He ducked instead and left the paralyzed Asher to stand there. The lightning scratched off Asher's shirt, penetrated his body and came out from the other side of his shoulder. I screamed. “Asher!!!!!!!!” Time froze and for some minutes I could hear Asher’s breath. He breathed his last and then his body became still.

Asher flash one of his well-practiced soulless business smiles. Jackson Brown is Asher's only friend and business partner, one of the few people he's allowed into his life, the few he can almost be himself with. Jackson is a tall, dark-skinned African-American, with sharp handsome features, and a fun, lively character, the complete opposite of Asher. They met while in college and had stayed friends ever since. "Your morning that bad?" Jackson asked, he'd never seen Asher so bleary-eyed so early in the day.

He confronts Damon, his voice laced with incredulity and contempt. "How dare you, Damon? How the hell could you stoop so low?" Asher's voice trembles with a mix of anger and disbelief. His eyes bore into his brother's, radiating a profound sense of disappointment and disgust. In that moment, Damon is reduced to a reviled creature, akin to a repugnant slug slithering along a rain-soaked footpath.

Most people had already forgotten what she looked like. If Sheila appeared as Yara, no one would have reason to suspect her. Once everything was arranged, the two of them booked flights to Aster City together. On the plane, Cassius looked at Sheila's face. After the subtle changes she had made to her appearance, she looked different enough that few people would recognize her. He let out a quiet sigh. "Sheila..." He smiled faintly. "No. I guess I should start calling you Yara. "You've sacrificed so much just to get revenge. Do you think you'll ever regret it?"

Her strength was startling, fueled by panic and the residual poison of the feral wolf’s corruption. “The wolf— its eyes!” She gasped, her chest heaving. Her gaze darted around the tent, landing on Mira, on Alex, on the familiar hides and herbs, but the terror didn’t leave her eyes. “It’s dead.” I said firmly, holding her gaze, pouring every ounce of my Alpha-born authority into my voice. “You’re safe. You’re in camp.” The fight seemed to drain out of her. She slumped back onto the cot, her breath still ragged. “It wasn’t… natural, Ash. It was like fighting a storm. No mind. Just… hunger and hate.”

Ash’s POV The roar of the clubhouse hit me before I even turned off my engine. Laughter, shouts and the sound of bottles clinking rent the air and for a moment, I wonder how they could easily fall back into their normal lives less than twelve hours after an attack. It was chaos the way I remembered it, but somehow louder and more… non challant. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sweat. A few brothers cheered when they saw me, others nodded, their eyes sharp, reading me like they weren’t sure what version of Ash had come back.

“So today we were tryin’ a new dance routine and during the splits Charlie farted, and it stunk… like, really stunk, but everyone started laughing sooo hard and… huh” The door opened, Melody looked past me to look at the person at the door. I didn't turn back to look like I thought it was Anna, until Melody said. “Oh… it’s the man from the pictures.” I turned around confused to meet the wide eyes of Asher staring intently at Melody like he had just seen a ghost. Oh shit… oh shit… oh shit “Mom? I’m scared”

A faint smile curved her lips, but there was nothing warm in it. Ashleigh Dana sat beside Voss, her hair shifting in soft ripples of color I couldn’t read yet, pale gold at the roots, bleeding into streaks of copper and violet. Her attention was fixed on me, a quiet alertness beneath her otherwise casual posture. Of all of them, she felt the least threatening, though I knew she could be the most unpredictable.

CALIFORNIA A few months had passed, but time had not dulled the edge of Elara’s hunger. If anything, it had sharpened it into something lethal. The scars had healed, erased by a surgeon’s artistry so complete that the mirror no longer reflected a survivor, it reflected someone new. Amara Voss. Her voice was more audible now—still very low like a whisper with a rasp. She made peace with it. Her whole life changed, she lost her son, her voice was the last thing she was heartbroken about. She had practiced the name until it slid from her lips without hesitation, until even in her own head she stopped hearing Elara Monroe. That woman had been broken, scarred, silenced. Amara Voss was flawless, r