as I get.
When Rhaegar finally regains his wits, he lets out a low whining snarl and stumbles toward me.
One look from Asher and Rhaegar limps in the other direction. I watch him disappear into the locker room. As I return my focus to sparring with Asher, which is really more like swatting a bear and then running in circles, I lock eyes with Valerian.
It’s the first time he’s actually acknowledged my presence since our talk. He wears the layers of armor he’s learned to hide behind, but I manage to break through for a brief, painful second.
The torturous agony I feel in my mate scrapes down my insides like fiery claws, and I look away before the need to comfort him overwhelms me.
Asher recognizes my distress and deftly maneuvers me away until Valerian is out of sight. The volley of strikes are a good distraction, and my pain gives way to survival. Soon sweat drips from every part of my body.
When I finally muster the courage to glance at Valerian, he’s gone. Ignoring the confusing stab of disappointment and relief, I help Asher clean the mats. Eclipsa and I have practice here in fifteen minutes anyway, and I’m too amped to stop moving.
“Who else can I fight?” I box the air and screw my face into what I hope is a fierce look.
“Easy there, Chuck Norris,” Asher growls.
I shadow box around him. “How do you even know who that is?”
“We do have the internet, you know. Chuck is your mortal realm’s highest ranked warrior.”
“Um . . . right.” I do my best not to laugh because I can see that Asher’s being serious. He’s obviously spent a lot of time learning about our world online—including Chuck Norris memes. “Does the Winter King know his son’s best friend is surfing the net?”
“Times are changing, even the king has to see that. Besides, I would like to know everything I can about your world.”
His gaze drifts behind me to a certain smokestack with big blue eyes and an infectious laugh. Mrs. Richter had the mortal shadows stay late to clean, and Mack is chatting with Jace while she helps him stack mitts.
Asher’s neck tendons bulge every time she smiles at poor Jace, and when she touches Jace’s shoulder, I actually worry that the dragon shifter might set something on fire.
“You should go talk to her,” I suggest.
He throws a right cross that I barely duck, but his eyes are still squarely on my bestie. “She looks busy. Who the hell is that tiny little guy?”
“Everyone is tiny compared to you.” I wait until he meets my eyes and then . . . “His name is Jace. Wait, did they just kiss?”
“What?” His head whips in her direction, sparks flickering in his eyes as a snarl gathers in his massive chest.
Laughing hysterically, I catch him with a crescent kick to the shoulder. The impact feels like connecting with concrete, but I hide the pain behind a grin.
“You’re vicious,” he growls, circling. “Now I know how Rhaegar felt.”
“Unless you had the ghosts of your future children flash before your eyes, I doubt it.”
He snorts and throws his arms up. “I think I had better walk away now before that happens. I plan on having an army of baby Ashers.”
It’s my turn to snort. “Have you cleared that with the future Mrs. Asher?”
This time when his gaze slides to my bestie, there’s no trace of humor in his expression. Only bittersweet longing and affliction that comes with loving someone you can never have. Mortals and Fae don’t date, and they certainly don’t marry and have an army of children. “No.”
I recognize that pain in his voice because it matches my own.
“Oberon’s beard. How hard have you fallen, Asher?”
He shrugs. “The sun rises and sets with her.”
Oh, God. He hasn’t just fallen, he’s leapt out of a plane without a parachute and is hurtling toward certain death.
Normally, I would be the last person to lecture on loving someone you can’t have, but the only possible outcome from this is heartbreak, so I say, “This will only end in her heart breaking.”
“She’s stronger than you think.”
“Even so, mortals and Evermore are forbidden from dating. She would be kicked out of school, her dreams of becoming a shadow Guardian shattered.”
“You should have seen her when you were injured,” he continues, ignoring me. “She fought for you like a lioness. She’s every bit a Fae, even if her flesh is mortal.”
I didn’t know that, and I make a mental