Dominic pov
I held Ashen tight, feeling the way his body trembled against mine.
Too light. Too tense. Too broken.
His words echoed in my head, laced with too much pain, too much self-hatred.
My uncle reminded me every day that I'm just a thing to be used, to be fucked, to be thrown away.
Rage burned deep in my chest, but I forced it down. This wasn't the time for anger. Not when Ashen was falling apart in my arms.
I tightened my grip, my voice low but firm. "No, Ashen. Your uncle was wrong."
His breath hitched, but he didn't pull away.
"I don't see some weak, helpless omega," I murmured, my fingers pressing gently against his back. "I see a warrior. Someone who has fought his whole life just to survive. Someone strong enough to keep going, even when the world has tried to break him."
His hands clenched against my chest.
"Please," I whispered, tilting my head down, my forehead brushing against his. "Just give me a chance. Let me prove to you that being submissive isn't what you think it is." I exhaled, voice thick with something I wasn't used to desperation. "Give us a chance. At least before you push me away."
Ashen didn't answer.
But he didn't run, either.
I lifted a hand, threading my fingers into his hair, tilting his head just enough to press my lips to his forehead.
His breathing stuttered.
For once, he didn't fight me. Didn't shove me back.
He just stood there, raw and exposed in my arms.
And for now, that was enough.
Ashen didn't move.
His body was stiff, his hands curled into the fabric of my shirt like he wasn't sure whether to push me away or hold on. His breathing was uneven, shallow, like he was trying to hold himself together with nothing but sheer willpower.
I didn't push.
Didn't demand words from him when I knew how hard this was how much trust it took just to stand here without running.
So I just held him.
I let the silence settle, let him feel the weight of my presence. Let him know I wasn't going anywhere.
After what felt like forever, he spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know how to be that," he admitted. "I don't know how to be…what you want."
I exhaled, my grip on him tightening just a little. "I don't want you to be anything but you."
He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "You say that now."
I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. "And I'll keep saying it until you believe me."
Ashen flinched, like he wasn't used to hearing words like that.
Like no one had ever said them to him before.
My jaw tightened, anger simmering low in my chest not at him, but at the people who had done this to him. Who had made him think he was nothing but something to be used.
I wasn't going to be one of them.
I cupped his jaw, forcing him to meet my gaze. "You don't have to trust me yet." My thumb brushed against his cheek, barely there, just enough to feel the way his breath hitched. "But let me prove it to you."
His lips parted, his expression conflicted.
Then, slowly, hesitantly he gave the smallest nod.
Not much.
But it was something.
And for now, that was enough.
Ashen's nod was small,barely there but it was enough to crack something inside me.
I knew he didn't trust me. Not fully. Maybe not at all. But the fact that he was even standing here, listening, meant I was getting through to him.
And I wasn't about to let that slip away.
I loosened my grip, careful not to make him feel trapped. I could feel the tension thrumming beneath his skin, the way his muscles coiled like he was ready to bolt at any second.
He expected me to push. To demand more than he was ready to give.
So I didn't.
Instead, I let my fingers trail down to his wrist, my touch featherlight. Grounding. "Come with me," I murmured.
He frowned, his wariness snapping back into place. "Why?"
I fought back a smirk. "Because you look like you're about to pass out."
His scowl deepened. "I don't—"
Before he could finish, his knees wobbled. Just slightly.
I caught him easily, an arm sliding around his waist. He tensed, but he didn't fight me.
Progress.
I didn't gloat. Didn't say I told you so. Instead, I just guided him toward the bed, ignoring the way his face burned as I pulled back the blankets.
"I can walk," he muttered.
"I know." I nudged him forward. "But humor me."
He shot me a glare that held no real heat, but after a long pause, he caved.
Huffing, he sank onto the mattress, his body betraying just how exhausted he really was. I reached for the blanket, but his hand suddenly shot out, grabbing my wrist.
I stilled.
His fingers trembled against my skin, his expression conflicted. Like he was fighting some internal war I couldn't see.
Then, in the softest voice, barely above a whisper—
"Stay."
The single word was so raw, so unlike him, that it made something tighten in my chest.
I sat beside him without hesitation. "Okay."
He swallowed, looking away. "…Just until I fall asleep."
I didn't argue. Didn't push.
I just nodded, settling in beside him.
Because if this was what he could give me for now if this was all he could give—
Then I would take it.
Ashen didn't say anything else. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, his body tense even as exhaustion tugged at him.
I sat beside him, silent, letting him feel my presence without forcing anything more.
Minutes passed. His breathing slowed, but I could tell he was fighting sleep—fighting me.
"Go to sleep, little wolf," I murmured.
His jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the blanket. "I don't" He hesitated. Then, softer, almost reluctant, "I don't want to wake up and find you gone."
Something in my chest tightened.
I exhaled, shifting so I could stretch out beside him. Not touching just close enough. "I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes flickered to mine, searching for something doubt, maybe. A lie.
But he wouldn't find one.
After a long pause, his body finally gave in. He let his eyes close, his breathing slowing, the tension bleeding from his muscles.
I didn't move.
Didn't speak.
I just watched him, taking in the way his lashes fluttered against his cheek, the way his lips parted slightly as he drifted deeper into sleep.
This was the first time I had seen him like this—unguarded. No fire.