Ashley gasped as she read the ssage, her heart pounding so hard she feared it might burst from her chest.
Without a second thought, she grabbed a jacket to throw over her long robe, though it barely did enough to cover her trembling body.
She rushed out of her room, her bare feet barely making a sound on the floor as adrenaline propelled her forward.
A man was waiting for her in the corridor, standing silently as if he had known she would co.
Without a word, he led her through the winding hallways, guiding her with quiet precision toward Ross’s room.
Ashley’s breath ca in ragged gasps, half-run, half-walk, each step making her robe shift and cling in ways that left little to the imagination.
Her chest heaved noticeably, her heart racing as much from urgency as from desire, and she couldn’t help the way her body betrayed her anxiety.
Finally, they arrived. The door opened, and Ashley stepped inside, eyes wide, trying to steady herself.
Ross was there, waiting, calm, and impossibly composed.
The sight of him made her heart skip again—partly from longing, partly from fear of what was to co.
She felt tears prick her eyes, hope and fear warring within her.
"Ross... is it true? Did you... really have news about my husband, Lyric?" Her voice wavered, heavy with the weight of disbelief and desperate hope.
Ross let out a slow, dramatic breath, as though savoring the mont before speaking.
His gaze softened, yet carried a weight that made Ashley’s pulse hamr in her chest.
He could have acted on the undeniable opportunity in the room, could have taken her right there, letting desire rule over reason. But he didn’t.
He loved her too much as Lyric to hurt her like that. Definitely not in any way that would shatter her.
Instead, he chose patience, a deliberate approach that would leave its mark more subtly, equally painful, yet ultimately more gentle compared to its alternative.
"Sit," he finally said, his voice gentle but commanding, pulling her gaze from his eyes to the firmness of his posture, the quiet strength in his presence.
"We need to talk... but you need to be ready for what I’m about to tell you."
Ashley nodded.
"Tell , Ross... where is my husband?" Ashley asked, her voice trembling yet laced with determination.
Each word ca out sharp, defiant, as if forcing herself to face the impossible.
"Please... sit down first, Ashley," Ross said gently, his tone carrying a calm authority that made her hesitate only for a mont.
She complied and sank into the nearest chair, her fingers clutching the armrest like a lifeline.
Her heart was racing, pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.
The air felt thick, heavy with dread.
Ross picked up a remote control and pressed a button.
The massive flat-screen on the wall flickered to life. At first, the image was blurred, grainy, but then it slowly sharpened, focusing on a man.
Dust and gri coated his face, and a streak of dried blood marred the corner of his lips.
Even through the filth, even through the obvious suffering, Ashley’s breath caught—Lyric was still undeniably handso.
There was a quiet strength in his gaze, a stubborn resilience that shone through his pain.
"Ashley... I’m sorry," Lyric’s voice was hoarse, raw, yet full of emotion. "I... I can’t co ho. I tried... but I was a fool. Trying to be a hero, trying to save everyone... I was unlucky."
He lifted his arm into view.
Deep bite marks raked across it, flesh torn and missing, blackened at the edges as it began to rot.
The wounds had stopped bleeding, but the damage was horrifying, a grotesque reminder of his ordeal.
Ashley’s stomach churned at the sight, a mixture of fear, revulsion, and heartbreak knotting inside her.
"I... I know my boss will send you this ssage. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye..." His voice faltered, breaking into a whisper that made Ashley lean forward instinctively.
"I led a good and aningful life. The happiest monts... were the ones I spent with you. I have no regrets... only that I couldn’t spend more ti with you and Daniel."
Lyric’s eyes, though weary, shone with mories.
"I rember when... the first ti I held you in my arms. The first ti we laughed together without a care in the world. Every small mont we shared—it gave my life aning. I love you, Ashley... always have, always will. I wish... I could have stayed with you, seen Daniel get married soday, walked by your side..."
His voice wavered, cracking as he recounted mories, laughter and tears mixing in the cadence of his words.
He spoke of quiet evenings, of fleeting touches, of unspoken promises.
Ti and again, he professed his love, each repetition heavier than the last, until his throat tightened, his voice failing him.
Then ca a sound that made Ashley shiver uncontrollably—a low, deep growl.
It was primal, inhuman, like a beast that had gone a million years without sustenance.
The phone couldn’t capture the full depth of it, but the vibrations reached her chest, rattling her very soul.
The growl didn’t just speak of hunger—it spoke of sothing ancient, relentless, and terrifying that was hunting him... or sothing he was now part of.
Ashley felt tears slide down her cheeks, burning her skin, as her mind reeled.
The man she loved, the father of her child, had endured horrors she could barely imagine.
He had fought, suffered, and survived—just barely—but now he was out of reach, trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t even begin to penetrate.
Ross watched silently from the side, his face unreadable, but there was a tension in his posture, a controlled patience that spoke of plans Ashley could not yet understand.
He didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to console her. He knew she needed to feel the weight of the truth, to confront it fully, before anything could be done.
As for Ashley, it felt like her heart got broken into pieces.
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