Asher From All American Novels & Stories

“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”

“We’ll do it together. You don’t have to prove yourself alone, Elias. We’ll clear your name, and we’ll burn out whoever’s hiding behind theirs.” The Concord Sigil flared bright across my chest, brighter than before, like it had been waiting for this vow. The crowd fell into a stunned hush at the sight, students shifting uncertainly, faculty exchanging worried glances. But not all of them. Professor Shara Baudoin, the Hawthorne healer, stepped forward, eyes steady, voice even. “The boy speaks truth. No one who fights like that bleeds betrayal.” Ashleigh Dana raised her chin, wild and defiant. “If the Interregnum has touched my House, then it is my duty to burn them out. And I will.” Her gaze

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

She finally understood. Everything she had, everything she was, was truly over. And I, a spirit in the moonlight, watched it all unfold. There was no joy, no relief. Only a profound emptiness. Revenge could not fill the void in my heart. A vampire turned to ash can never come back.

I felt nothing, only smooth skin. A shaky breath escaped me. “I died…” The words sounded foreign out loud, but it was true. I know that I died, because how much can one imagine life slipping out of their body? You don’t hallucinate the weight of betrayal like that. But then again, I was back. “I’m back.” The realization settled slowly, like dust after chaos. As much as it didn't make sense, it was coming together and I was accepting it. The weirdest part was seeing a dead man alive and well. Ethan Adams was with me, alive, talking, smiling. He drove me home.

“Then the first lesson starts now. Shoulders back. Stop staring at your shoes. You look like you’re being led to your own execution. It’s not a good look.” “Jax?” I froze. Asher. He was jogging across the street toward us, dressed in gym clothes with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp from a post-match shower, and he looked effortlessly, infuriatingly handsome. He came to a stop in front of us, his focus initially on Jax. “Hey, man. I tried calling you after the match.” “Phone died,” Jax said smoothly, not missing a beat. His posture had shifted instantly, becoming more relaxed, more Jax. It was like watching an actor step into a role.

As she turned from side to side, taking in the full effect, she almost didn’t recognise herself. A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. "Olivia? You ready?" Asher’s voice carried through the room, calm and steady. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Asher stood there, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, looking every bit the powerful Alpha he was. His dark hair was slicked back, and his chiselled jaw was clean-shaven. But it wasn’t his appearance that caught her off guard—it was the way his eyes widened when he saw her. His gaze travelled from the top of her perfectly styled hair to the tips of her golden heels, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words.

I had just finished rinsing and loading the dishwasher when Jack came up behind me. “You do not have to clean you know” He mumbled against my neck. “I don’t mind, it only took a few minutes” I pushed myself backwards causing my butt to grind against him. “Did watching me clean turn you on” I teased. “No watching you bend over in a dress and almost showing your butt got me horny” He chuckled “The poor guys did not know where to look”? “Crap, I am not used to wearing short dresses because of my scars” I quickly smoothed down the back of my dress “Did they see anything?”