Chapter 32: From Roasted Maize to Hidden Hearts
Lucien sat behind the wheel, his hand striking the steering in frustration. "Psycho," he muttered, jaw tight. "If Uncle hadn’t come out, I don’t know how it would’ve ended."
Beside him, Ash exhaled in relief. Luckily, Stepfather interfered in time, saying he wanted to talk with Adrian. I don’t know what choice i could have made.
As they drove on, Ash’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen; Uncle Aster.
It’s rare for Uncle Aster to call me...is there a problem?
He picked up quickly. "Hello."
"How are you?" Aster’s voice came warm.
"I’m good. Is everything alright?" Ash asked.
"Yes," Aster replied.
Ash breathed easier. "How’s Grandma?"
"She’s fine."
Relief flickered across Ash’s face. "Ooh, if everything is fine..."
"I was just calling to confirm if you guys arrived safe," Aster cut in.
Guys? Ash frowned. Then it struck him; he means me and Lucien.
"Oooh, yeah, we arrived safe," Ash said lightly. "Even as we talk, Lucien is here with me."
"Really?"
"Yes, you can say hi to him." Before Aster could protest, Ash was already passing the phone over.
Lucien’s deep voice filled the line. "Hello.’
Silence.
Lucien tried again, firmer. "Hello."
Aster’s soft tone answered at last. "Hello, Alpha Lucien...I just wanted to say hi."
"Cool. Nice to hear you again," Lucien said flatly.
"Mmm...also nice to hear you again."
Another pause stretched.
Then Aster cleared his throat. "Have a nice day, Alpha Lucien."
"You too, Senior Aster," Lucien replied.
The call ended. Lucien handed the phone back to Ash, his expression unreadable.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, maize roasted gently over a wire mash, the scent drifting through the air.
Aster sat beside it, phone still in his hand. Slowly, he placed his other hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing wildly. A quiet smile curved his lips, lingering as if the call had stirred something deep within him.
...
Aster as anenigma, never became interested in any Alpha or Omega. His house stood without a kitchen slot, for in the village’s traditions, it was said a man building a kitchen without being married was taboo.
During the village mentorship program, Lucien had come only to observe. Ash introduced Lucien to him as his stepbrother’s fiancee’s brother and also his friend. That day, Aster had stepped forward to share what his mother had taught him; how to weave bracelets.
He explained the process, showing the villagers how to twist and knot the strands, then asked who among them had understood well enough to try. No one moved.
So Aster pointed.
"You," he said, looking directly at Lucien.
Lucien hesitated. "I didn’t really understand"
"Come," Aster urged. "I’ll help you."
Lucien sat before the gathered villagers, threads slipping clumsily through his fingers. Aster crouched beside him, close enough for their shoulders to nearly touch. He reached forward, guiding Lucien’s hand.
"Like this," he said softly, adjusting the strands. His fingers slid against Lucien’s, skin colliding, warmth pressing into his palm.
Again and Again, their hands met; sometimes brushing, sometimes lingering longer than needed, as Aster demonstrated each motion. Twist, pull, tighten.
The villagers watched simple lesson. But inside Aster, his heartbeat raced beyond control. Each accidental touch sent an ache through his chest, each collision of their hands tightening something wordless inside him.
...
The sharp smell of burnt maize pulled Aster back from his thoughts. With a small start, he bent quickly, turning the cobs and pulling some off the mesh.
From inside, his mother’s voice floated out. "Aster, you’ve taken too long with the roasting."
Ash stepped closer sight of the blackened cobs. He murmured under his breath, eyes widening, "I’m dead."
...
During breaktime, Ash, Naomi, and Martin sat in their usual spot in the dining area. Ash leaned back after finishing his story, his tone still carrying the weight of the morning.
"If it wasn’t for Adrian’s father stepping in," Ash said, "I swear Alpha Lucien and Alpha Adrian could have killed each other."
Naomi’s eyes widened. "Wow...I can foretell your fate, Ash. Think about it; Lucien saved your life once, even before you knew him. Now, you’ve met again, and he’s confessed his love to you. He wants to take care of you. That’s destiny. You’re meant to end up together."
Martin rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "Please. He doesn’t even have feelings for him. Allowing Lucien to court him is just guilt taking. Ash feels like he owes him a debt. That’s not love; it’s hurting them both."
Naomi leaned forward with a grin. "Alright then, let’s bet. Who Ash will end up with."
Martin smirked. "Fine." They both lifted their hands and locked pinky fingers.
"I’m team Alpha Lucien," Naomi declared proudly.
"And I’m team Alpha Adrian," Martin countered with equal confidence.
Ash stared at them, mouth slightly open. "Oi! Instead of helping me escape from these Alphas, you’ve taken sides?"
Both Naomi and Martin just laughed, ignoring his protest.
Ash folded his arms, narrowing his eyes at the two of them. "By the way, when it comes to my love life, you two are always the biggest fans. But you’ve never told me about yours." He looked at them expectantly.
Naomi gave a small shrug, lips pressing into a pout. "For me...I’m still single."
Martin smirked, leaning back. "Maybe because you’re always buried in books. Who’s going to notice a nerd with glasses who spends half her life in the library?"
Naomi let out a dramatic whimper, pretending to cry. "So cruel!"
Ash chuckled, shaking his head. "Hey, don’t listen to him. Beauty isn’t just about what’s on the outside. Naomi, you’ve got a heart that shines brighter than most people’s looks. Anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve you."
Naomi blinked at him, caught off guard by his sincerity, before a shy smile tugged at her lips.
Ash tilted his head toward Martin. "And you? Haven’t you found your Alpha yet?"
Martin smiled faintly.
Naomi leaned in, curious. "Tell us about him. Is he handsome?"
Martin’s gaze drifted, memory pulling him back to the health care program in the village.
He remembered the tall villager who came in for a checkup; broad-shoulders, muscles carved from years of field work, the kind of strength that didn’t come from the gym but from life itself. His presence filled the small room.
When the man unbuttoned his shirt for the examination, Martin had stepped closer, stethoscope in hand. His fingers brushed against the man’s solid chest as he placed it, the warmth of his skin pressing through.
Martin’s heartbeat stumbled, his hands trembling slightly as he listened to the steady thrum in the man’s chest. He tried to keep his composure, but inside, the moment had shaken him.
"Hey, Martin, tell us about him," Naomi’s voice snapped him back. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What’s his name?"
Martin blinked, cheeks heating as he tried to recall. "He told me his name was..."
Ash sighed impatiently, already standing and stretching as if ready to leave.
Naomi leaned closer, listening intently.
Martin murmured at last, "Aster."