Page 69 of Forbidden Mischief
I step into the pit like death itself.
“Get away from him!” I yell.
“Who the fuck are you?” someone asks.
Another flick of my wrist. Three more drop.
A man storms out of the shadows, holding a gun, his face twisted in rage. He’s big—broad shoulders, thick arms, tall like Asher, but that’s where the resemblance ends. His face is rough and hard, like he’s never smiled in his life. His eyes burn with something dark and mean, and there's a kind of madness in the way he moves, like he's barely hanging on.
I don’t know him, but I know who he is.
He’s got none of Asher’s warmth. No kindness. Just anger. Control. Like hurting people is how he feels powerful.
"You!" he snarls.
“Me.” I smirk.
A crack of light splits the room. The gun flies from Billy’s hand before he can even blink. Dad steps forward, eyes glowing, voice like thunder.
"Don’t ever point a weapon at my child."
Alice is already at Asher’s side, sobbing. Her hands flutter over his battered body. “Billy, you fuckingmonster! What did you do to my son?”
Billy snarls. "He’s mine. I wasfixinghim. You let him get soft. He thinks he’s into men."
“Heis!” she screams. "He always has been!"
Billy shakes his head, frothing at the mouth. “He can’t be. He’s in this pack. No son of mine is a dude fucker.”
Dad steps between Billy and Alice. “Well, he’s mated to my son, and you won’teverspeak of him like that. He’s my son now. Not. Yours," he roars.
Billy shifts. Fur explodes from his skin, bones cracking, body twisting into a massive black wolf. He lunges.
Alice screams.
Magic and muscle collide. My dad meets the wolf mid-air, and it’s like watching a spell go off inside a tornado. They crash with a deafening thud, fur and magic clashing in a blur. Spells crack and whip through the room, lighting up the shadows like lightning flashes. Howls echo off the walls. Snarls and roars and the sharp snap of bone hit my ears like cannon blasts. My hands are sore from casting, my magic flaring wildly as I knock down anyone stupid enough to try getting close to Asher. Alice is crouched low over him, shielding him with her body like a lioness.
And then—CRACK.
Everything stops.
No more howling. No more spells. Just breathing. Heavy and uneven.
Dad stands tall over the huge black wolf crumpled on the ground. His chest rises and falls in harsh gulps, his shirt torn open and smeared with blood and dirt. One of his hands still glows faintly with leftover magic, flickering at the edges like an old flame.
The wolf doesn’t move.
Alice doesn’t take her eyes off Asher. Her hands are still on him, trembling.
I move across the blood-soaked floor, falling to my knees beside him. He looks at me with one swollen eye, the other hidden beneath a bruise that spreads across half his face. His gaze is raw and tired—but still him.
StillmyAsher.
Dad steps over slowly and kneels beside us. He ruffles Asher’s hair gently, and Asher winces, trying to hold in a hiss of pain.
"You're safe, son," Dad says, his voice softer than I've ever heard it.
"Thanks," Asher rasps, voice barely there.
