Asher's eyes opened very slowly, still heavy with fatigue.  It was hard to focus with the pounding headache, and he felt as if a stone were nestled firmly between his shoulders.  He squint.  It was dark.  There wasn't much light in this room, if any, but he didn't need light to know where he was.  He could feel them- everywhere.  He must be in the nest they were searching for.  So… he found it, he supposed, but not in the way he'd intended to.<br/><br/>He lifted his head only slightly, trying to observe the state he was in.  Thankfully he was still clothed.  Both of his wrists however were shackled tightly in what he guessed was iron.  His weapons were nowhere to be found.  To his chagrin, he'd finally made the connection- he was tied into a bed.  If he wasn't already flushed by the fever, he was now.<br/><br/>He let his head fall back again.  What had happened in the forest came back to him in bits and pieces, mostly just the emotions attached, but little of actual memory.  The last thing he remembered was clocking one of his ambushers, and then the Alpha was upon him.  He remembered her cold hands, and a little pain.  His head seemed to throb forcefully in response.  He was thankful for his anti-venom blood, but just the idea that she might have had a taste of him made him uneasy.<br/><br/>He hoped that wasn't the reason he was still alive.<br/><br/>Unfortunately, Asher's chances seemed quite low.  He didn't know what her intentions were with him, but it seemed no matter what they were he was helpless to resist it.  He was too weak, and had nothing to defend himself with.  Furthermore he was deep in her domain now, and even if by some miracle he escaped, there were countless monsters out there perfectly capable of hunting him back down.<br/><br/>He let out a tired, defeated sigh.<br/><br/>So why<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>he here?  Was he a hostage?  Were the vampires negotiating a ransom for him right now?  He doubted that, even if it was an optimistic thought.  The Clan took care of their own, but would never negotiate with the enemy.  If they really wanted him back, they would be raiding the nest by now.  Nobody was coming after him.  Not Zaine, not Rory, not anyone.  Thus, he was alone inside a bowl of bloodthirsty piranhas, and his clock was ticking.<br/><br/>His jaw tightened as he pulled up his torso by the chains.  At least from this position, he had a better view of his surroundings.  His eyes adjusted to the dark, and he could now make out some more shapes.  It was simply a bedroom.  He wasn't expecting it to be so… normal.  Usually when he hunted vampires in a domicile, there were numerous sketchy items strewn about, such as severed heads and bone dry goat carcasses.  The only thing odd about this room was the sex dungeon vibe he got from it.  The thought made him shudder.<br/><br/>“You know, I wouldn't mind a tot of whiskey before you kill me.  Takes away the pain.  Makes it easier for you to drink me dry.  We both win.”  He would say when she returned.