My Fated Alpha's Cruel Game (Elena and Marcus) novel Chapter 236

Chapter 236: Chapter 236 Desperate Contact

Briar’s POV

I cut Asher off before he can finish making his offer.

"No," I tell him, already reaching for my leather jacket draped over the chair. "I’m doing this solo."

Asher’s expression hardens instantly. He pushes back from the kitchen counter, crossing his arms in that slow, deliberate way that means he’s trying not to lose his temper. Years of working with me taught him that bulldozing through my decisions only makes me dig in deeper.

"You have no idea who sent that message," he points out, his voice carefully controlled. "No pack signature. No traceable location. That’s not being careful, Briar. That’s asking for trouble."

"I know exactly what this is," I shoot back, pulling my boots on with sharp, efficient movements. The familiar pressure of the laces grounds me, makes everything feel more solid. "It’s a challenge."

"What kind of challenge?" His brow furrows, that crease appearing between his eyebrows that shows up whenever he’s trying to work through my logic.

"The kind that tests whether I can still get results without throwing my weight around."

"That doesn’t make sense," Asher says, voice flat and unconvinced.

"It’s the only thing that does make sense."

He lets out a breath, slow and measured, the way he does when he knows I’m winning this argument but he’s not ready to give up yet. "Fine. Let me stay in the area at least. Same county. Same timeframe. Close enough to respond if things go sideways."

"Absolutely not," I say, and this time my tone softens just a fraction. Not because I’m being kind, but because I need him to understand. "If he catches wind of backup, he’ll bolt before I can get a word out of him. He didn’t call for Briar the pack enforcer. He called for just Briar."

"And that’s what scares the hell out of me."

I stop what I’m doing and look him straight in the eye. "That’s exactly why it has to be this way."

Asher stares back at me for several heartbeats. I can see all the things he wants to say written across his face. Risk assessments. Backup plans. The quiet worry he never speaks out loud because he knows I’ll brush it off automatically. Finally, he gives me one sharp, reluctant nod.

"You call me the second you leave that meeting," he says. "And again when you’re finished."

"Done."

He doesn’t look satisfied with that arrangement, but he moves out of my way.

That’s what trust looks like. Not the same thing as approval. Both of us understand the difference.

The town screams human from every angle.

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