Asher Pov
The beautiful view from the balcony of my penthouse can impress anyone, but for me, the picturesque tiled roofs of old houses, the almost empty streets, and the beautiful orange sunrise are equally faceless. I see the world in black and white.
After Elizabeth's death, the bright colors disappeared, and the emptiness in my soul has been my constant companion for two centuries. I destroyed all the hunters guilty of the death of my wife and pack. But the pain did not go away, the only feeling that never left me.
Revenge still burns inside, not allowing the pain to finish me off completely. Intuition tells me that the true culprit is still alive. So many years of wandering and searching have practically yielded no results. Only brought clarity to some details.
The anger and rage that consumed my consciousness turned me from an ordinary werewolf into a beast. Cruelty awakened a werewolf, a humanoid wolf. A lonely monster came to replace the calm and balanced alpha. Unfeeling, bloodthirsty, and thirsty for revenge. The real me died along with my wife and unborn child.
Even the girl lying in my bed did not cause a grain of emotion. She is only a way to extinguish primal instincts, to satisfy lust, and nothing more.
I glanced at the pretty face, and again there was silence inside. Neither the heart nor the soul responded.
I leaned on the balcony railing. Early morning, is a time that allows you to breathe a little. I try to throw everything out of my head and just look into the distance, seemingly without boundaries.
At other times, my thoughts are a battlefield, confrontations, eternal struggle, endless suffering, and attempts to figure things out. How I didn't go crazy, I don't understand.
True, the last few days have been insignificant, but still changes. A meeting at a celebration in honor of the name day of my business partner's daughter made adjustments to the eternal emptiness. At that moment, when the girl approached the stairs, I felt something that I had not felt for many years.
Blood rushed madly through my veins, forcing my petrified heart to beat faster in my chest. I don't know why I went to meet her, some unknown force led me. When she fell into my arms and raised her eyes, I was confused, it seemed that Elizabeth was in front of me.
I can't forget those extraordinary gray-green eyes, I was dumbfounded, not believing in the resemblance. Every speck and transitional shade is etched in my memory forever. I can't confuse them, but I couldn't find an explanation for their identity.
In other respects, they are complete opposites. As soon as the girl spoke, her voice reminded me that my wife had been dead for a long time.
I watched the birthday girl against my will. Only sadness and sorrow settled in Gillian's gaze. The forced smile was unable to hide the pain in her soul. Her emotions seemed to be reflected in me. The emptiness receded for the first time in a long time, letting something inexplicable into my soul.
It irritated, angered, and surprised me. I was used to being cold and impenetrable. Only thanks to such developed character traits was I able not to survive but to bear the loss through the years and not to burn in the agony of my self-flagellation and guilt.
Feelings make you weaker, if I had not become who I am now, I would have long ago accepted reality and died. My partial gray hair on my temples is proof of an internal struggle. Still young in appearance, but centuries of pain cannot be hidden.
The sadness in her beautiful eyes slowly sank into my soul. During the long period of my lonely life, I had many beautiful women, but there was something special about this girl. An inexplicable attraction and an obsessive desire to touch her did not give me peace.
When she scratched my back, I flinched as if a small wound could be mortally dangerous. The anxiety angered me, and the touch of her soft skin spread like an electric discharge, spreading from the pads of my fingers throughout my body. My whole being responded with an attraction to the girl.
Sex without obligations became natural and acceptable for me, but the feelings that engulfed me from just a light touch to Gillian cannot be conveyed in words. How is this possible? Wolves after true death cannot have any feelings for the opposite sex, except for physical needs, such is our nature.
Even a pre-selected gift for a girl, as if it was specially created for her. When buying, I somehow knew that the pendant would suit the future owner.
A gray precious tear, worn on a long graceful neck, was intended specifically for her. The shade of the stone was reflected in familiar eyes, making my heart stop in pain.
The blond curls framed a beautiful face, and she had an extraordinary aroma, which, unfortunately, was partially drowned out by expensive perfume. In the notes of the girl's true smell, echoes of the past seemed to be.
I did not want to leave, something kept me near Gillian. In the reflection of the mirror, I saw attractive scarlet lips, focusing attention on themselves.
Almost with grinding teeth, I forced myself to say goodbye and leave. And only beyond the threshold of the mansion did I become the same. The obsession came to naught. And now those emotions seem unreal, just a playful imagination.
My thoughts were distracted by the unwanted embrace of an unloved girl. She kissed my naked back but did not turn away anything hiccupped inside me, the familiar boundless emptiness. Goosebumps ran across my skin, reflecting internal displeasure. I clenched my fists, trying to restrain the urge to push the brunette away. I didn't even remember her name.
I paused and then moved away.
"I'm going to take a shower. When I come back, I hope you won't be here anymore." After all, I know that I can hurt her with such words, but I can't overcome myself.
"We won't see each other again?" a random acquaintance asked hopefully.