#cassian fic

Am I able to request 5 and 8 for cassian?

prompt 5 is here for cassian + the other bat boys

“Should we like, talk about it?" "aboutwhatnothingweirdhashappenedlatelyhaha"

"Let me see if I can jog your memory."

Cassian x Reader

wc: 1.6k

a/n: woah what she returns maybe

cassian x reader

[ part one ]

warnings: angst to fluff, sexual tension, vague smut, swearing, implied substance abuse, implied suicidal ideation, men being dumb but grovelling, not edited so be nice

summary: a part 2 based off this request

—

Food curdles in your stomach, the pallor of your skin a little green when you return to the dining room. The desire for dessert has passed even when you can smell the appealing notes of a warm cinnamon sugar crust under baked red apples.

There are words being spoken, toasts made with heartfelt speeches about your hard work and irreplaceable position in the inner circle. You do your best to appear engaged, smiling when appropriate and nodding in acknowledgment but you can’t stop thinking about Elain’s words—how only a few syllables has sent the entirety of your nervous system into a fritz.

Thankfully, wine is poured in excess and most of your friends are too tipsy to notice your inability to relax into your seat.

The table is cleared shortly after, the group begins to gather around the fireplace, pulling out deck of cards and tossing gold coins in the middle of a table. Boisterous bets are placed, Fey and Rhys whispering promises of personal prizes if one of them wins big.

You use the opening to break away from the chaos, seeking solace on the balcony where the cool breeze carried away the cold sweat breaking out along your forehead.

You barely get ten breaths in before another presence is detected. Their steps are heavy, unguarded; familiar even and once their scent catches in the breeze you don’t even have to turn to know who’s there.

“Was hoping I’d find you alone.”

You hate the way your heart jumps at the sound of his voice. Despising the way you subconsciously straighten the fit of your top or wiping away mascara residue that maybe transferred when rubbing at your face. Either way, your nerves won’t let you mince words. “You need something?”

Cassian doesn’t seem offended by your blunt tone, taking a few steps closer until you can feel his heat radiating at your side. “Just some answers.”

“About what?”

“Come on, are you really going to play dumb about this? I know you can feel it too. I know that you know—I can smell it on you.” You avoid his stare, swallow thickly when he turns to face you head-on. Goosebumps loiter your flesh when he dares to brush away stray hairs that have blown across your cheeks but you recoil when you consider the fact that he’d done that to some other female recently. The hope in his eyes falters at your flinch, defeat coating his tongue. “Just tell me how long you’ve known.”

You shrug, arms crossing over your chest as you will your voice to remain steady—strong. “What’s the point? The bond is a suggestion, not a requirement.”

“Maybe that’s the truth for you but it means so much more to me.”

“Is what you feel supposed to matter to me now?” Strength returns in the shape of anger or maybe even frustration because all of a sudden you’re consumed by it, cadence overtaken by betrayal. “Because, I’ve always considered you before. I loved you, cherished you, remained loyal even before I’d known about any divine connection declaring us equals. But you? You betrayed me. Y-you humiliated me and made me second guess myself—caused me to doubt my worth because you allowed yourself to be distracted by a pretty face and a little power to back it up.” You barely notice the tears streaming down your face, only realizing they’re there when it tickles down the column of your throat. “All I’ve ever done is think about you and look how that ended up for me.” Palms wipe the wetness off your cheeks, nose sniffling away the emotion clogging your sinuses. You turn away, ashamed of the vulnerability that you can’t seem to rid yourself of. “Where is she anyway? I’d assumed the two of you would be fused at the hip given the opportunity to publicly flaunt your union.”

Cassian is quiet. Quiet enough to hear the way he sucks in a harsh breath through his nose, it whistles sharply, evidence of the numerous breaks it’s endured over the decades. “She moved away.” He confesses, using the time to take you in. Your hairs longer, skin more tan; you’ve lost weight, the bones of your hips more prominent than before. He wonders if you worked too hard in attempts to forget him. “She’s with Eris now.”

You can’t contain the laugh you bark out. Hands brace on the balcony rail, head thrown back as they overtake you, shoulders shaking and tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. “You left me for her,” You can barely catch your breath. “—and she left you for another. Gods, karma’s a bitch.”

“He’s her mate.”

“Well, I hope he cherishes her more than you ever bothered to with me.”

That seems to trigger his temper, a fire burning in his eyes when he forces you to face him. A seriousness you never associate with him lives in the lines of his face, it hardens the line of his cheekbones, the set of his lips, accentuating the way he’s lost sleep over imagining this very moment. He supposes this is the best possible outcome, you spitting jabs his way knowing he’ll take it—he’s certainly earned your ire. But the newfound connection that exists between you two makes the feelings amplify tenfold, settling in his bones as if the emotion belongs to him instead. It’s confusing, consuming, exhilarating and a bit exhausting but it’s everything he’d ever prayed for with a female who’d been standing right in front of him this whole damned time. “Look, I get that I hurt you and you have every right to be upset and want to hurt me back but—“

“Hurt me?” You scoff, pretending that his touch doesn’t send electricity buzzing beneath your flesh. That his grip doesn’t have your heart racing and blood pumping a mile a minute. You blame it on the bond the way your body remembers the feel of him manhandling you the way he pleases, positioning you in a way that best suits him. “I’m not hurt anymore, Cassian. I’m mad as Hel.”

—

Sleep evades you that night, unable to even step foot in the room once shared with a love that has run its course.

The library is a suitable replacement, leather couch baring your weight as the fireplace before it warms you to the bone. One could argue that you were too close, the flames so near it turns your skin red; nose rosy and lips dry but it’s as similar as can be replicated of a large body sharing the sleep space.

It’s not until you’ve sat up, arms stretching and a yawn cutting through the silence do you notice another presence in the space you’ve quietly claimed. “Az?” Shadows perk up at the way you whisper his name, azure eyes parting from the window, away from the city he so valiantly protects.

“You know, you talk in your sleep.”

You nearly trip on the couch leg in your rush to him, arms thrown around his shoulders for a hug. His sentient extensions of him dance through your hair, tickling at your ears fondly like curious little children. “When’d you get in?”

“Early this morning, was waiting for someone to finish their work so I could bring them along for tonight.”

“Bring them along?” Azriel barely acknowledges your Summer acquired pajamas or their skimpiness, his gaze returning to its surveillance of the outdoor surroundings. “You have a girlfriend I don’t know about?”

“I could. You haven’t been around much.” Your lips purse, an apology on the tip of your tongue before Az shrugs off whatever contempt had begun to rear its ugly head. You aren’t offended, certain that his words stemmed more from self-loathing than any real anger directed towards you. He was like that sometimes, envious of the way his family was able to come and go as they please while he was anchored to this Court due to his high profile—his rarity. “I was asked to bring a friend of yours. Though, I suppose it should be me asking if you’ve run off and found new romance given the way they spoke of you the whole way here.”

“Tarquin and I are just friends.”

A smug little smile begins to etch itself in the crease of his mouth—a hint of a dimple dipping against his cheeks. “I never said it was Tarquin.”

“Oh shut up, we’ve gotten close since—“ You scramble for a vague enough word to explain the rift that grew between family after Cassian had left you. After you left everyone without a word. Nothing feasible pops up, gaze drifting off, voice dying out. Arms cross over your chest, that shameful feeling beginning to return but Azriel slays it away before it can really set root.

“I understand.” Frustration is evident in the way his jaw clenches, tendons straining against the delicate skin, pushing against inky tattoos and three day old stubble. “Just hope you don’t think replacing us because of Cassian’s wrongs is the way to go. We’ve missed you around here.”

You nod jerkily, leeching off the warmth he emits and re-familiarizing yourself with the comforting scent he gives off. “That’s…you’re right that’s on me. I was avoiding and took it too far.” You peer up at him, a glossy sheen lining your vision. “Forgive me?”

“I can consider it—if you give me all the details about you and this High Lord you’ve captivated.”

“You’re a glutton for gossip.”

“I’m a spy, I’m collecting valuable intel so don’t leave out a single thing.”

—

An hour later, clothes are changed, hair is done, beds are made and the extravagance of your birthday begins. Rhys insists on a shared breakfast before the group bites into the real meat of the itinerary planned for the day. It’s supposed to be fun, perhaps a little festive at the very least. All that flies out the window, tensions running high the moment Tarquin steps foot through the door, his presence gravitating towards yours like magnets searching for their counterpart.

Cassian hates every second of it.

Tarquin is too familiar, too comfortable; too touchy. He takes it upon himself to fix your plate, pour your wine—no, champagne and orange spritz. Your favorite, he claims. His hands frequent your body, tugging at the hem of your top to examine the Night Court fabrics, adjusting the necklace you wear, flicking at the earrings dangling from your lobes. Mid-conversation he collects a few strands of your hair that keeps falling across your cheek and absently begins braiding—you don’t flinch away. You don’t even so much as miss a beat in your words, body language completely lax as if things like this happens everyday.

“You’re going to lose a molar grinding your teeth like that.”

Cassian can’t even tear his eyes away long enough to spare his brother the time of day. Azriel wouldn’t have known he heard if it weren’t for the way the soldiers stance shifts, adjusts; braces himself before he does something stupid like procure a broad sword and use it to slice Tarquin’s hands clean off. “She tell you if something happened between them?”

“Didn’t mention anything of that nature to me,” Azriel watches too while forking eggs onto his plate, distantly amused at the way the High Lord fawns over you. Showering your work in his Court with compliments, explaining to Rhysand and Feyre how quickly you’ve clicked with the people and wedged your way into the town like a true native. “Either way, it looks like she’s got him wrapped around her finger.”

“I can see that. I don’t like it.”

Azriel shrugs, instigating just a little. “She’s not a kept female, she’s free to do as she pleases. You made sure of that.”

Cassian doesn’t answer right away, every thought formed is laced with violent intent. He imagines murder, pictures homicide; criminal offenses that would surely break out into a war. He pictures Tarquin’s head rolling on the hardwood, blood seeping through that stupidly expensive rug that Rhys had imported from Winter Court a half decade ago.

He barely realizes he’s blatantly staring, mind fixated on pulling out a High Lord’s teeth with his bare hands. Stringing him up by his toes and using his soft underbelly as target practice for his battle axes. Each thought grows more vicious than the next until a familiar feeling penetrates his psyche, talons tapping at the poorly concealed mental shields that loosened in his indulgence of murderous delusions. “Stop staring like that, it’s getting creepy.”

Hazel eyes flicker to Rhys at the head of the table, his grip on his silverware annoyingly posh when spearing through fluffy pancakes and breakfast sausage. “Then make him stop touching her.”

“I don’t recall her making demands like that when you put your paws on another.” His brothers words bite, though Cassian is sure that’s the intent because his shoulders sag like a puppet with their strings cut, spine slumping into his seat as his hypocrisy smacks him clear across the face. “She hurt for you, now it’s your turn to bleed and endure.”

Bleed and endure he does.

Tarquin doesn’t hold back for any male.

He makes it his mission to capture and maintain your attention. Whispering comments in your ear, jokes that make you grin over the rim of your glass; coaxing you out of the shell that heartbreak swept you into.

“We’re excited to have you here,” Mor directs towards your companion, a knowing grin on her mouth. “A little birdy told me how fun you get off faerie wine and tonight we’re all going to Rita’s to celebrate.”

“Rita’s?”

You refill your champagne, shifting slightly in your seat. “It’s a club we frequent—best bar in the city.”

“Not as good as Benny’s, I’m sure.”

You huff out a laugh, it’s not exactly pretty but it’s real and Cassian is forced to set down his glass before it shatters to pieces in his grasp. “I’m not sure anything quite compares to Benny’s.”

Mor’s brows raise, a whiny noise clawing up her throat as she complains about you both and your inside jokes. A blush forms before Tarquin even begins opening his mouth. “Benny’s is our Rita’s, except it has this pole in the middle of the room and past midnight they host challenges to see who’s brave enough to dance on it. Winner gets free drinks for the rest of the night.” His shoulders shake with laughter when your blush grows up your neck, brightening up the point of your ears. “Your emissary has won twice already.”

Laughter ensues, little quips made at your expense but you take it in stride; basking in this one little moment that finally feels like something you remember. Comfort and joy, casual happiness around the people you used to know your place amongst.

It’s a damn shame all that fades when your gaze shifts to your right, catching on the seething Commander who watches you like you’re something he lost—something he wishes to reclaim and obtain.

You physically shake yourself out of that thought. You’ve been fooled once following your feelings and twice burned is too much to comeback from.

Reminding yourself of the pain endured is a never-ending task. Phantom pains live within your body with every step, aches with every movement, only dulled when plied with imported wines and puffs of rolled joints while Mor and Feyre spend countless hours filling your time—refusing to leave you alone long enough for you to get lost in your own mind.

To be fair it works, the sun rising and falling before you can track the hours, minutes, or seconds that pass. Every moment is filled with a plan; shopping, mani-pedi’s, snack boards and gossip while the three of you rustle about newly acquired outfits for the night.

They squeeze you into something tight and shiny, figure glistening in gold with a slit so high up your left leg it broadcasts the cut of your hipbone. You’re forced to forgo underwear, modesty hidden by nothing more than a slip of fabric. The wine makes it difficult to care much. High heels alter your train of thought, more worried about balancing in five inch heels rather than what would happen if a stiff breeze were to show off the naughty bits. Earrings dangle from your lobes, makeup is spread across your eyelids and fanned through your lashes. Gloss is smeared across your lips and the imprint of your mouth stains your wine glass with every sip.

All three of you are tipsy by time you saunter down the stairs in a group of clicking heels, girlish giggles and one final smoke puff of mirthroot before you join with the males downstairs.

They serve as perfect bodyguards, holding you upright when your inebriation robs you of your coordination. Grin down at you when words slur together and sentences are abruptly interrupted by laughter. You’re allowed a little recklessness now that you have your family to keep an eye on you but Cassian’s lingers the longest. His hand hovers the closest. His worry festers with every shot taken, concern growing with every misstep and casual bump of your shoulder against his arm. He knows you’ve reached your limit when your foot drags along his calf under the table—an action done purely subconsciously, without thought.

He doesn’t move away. Skin buzzing at the contact.

Azriel spares his brother a look a few hours later before he slinks off into the night, one that screams might as well take the chance before you never have the opportunity again.

You slowly recognize the pattern of your friends filtering off in their own pairs; couples breaking away until it’s just you and the bar. “Can I get—“

“The tab.” A voice rumbles over your own, a small pouch of coins is sifted through and gently tossed over the bar top. It takes a second for your vision to focus long enough to fully put a name to face even if your body recognizes who it is as if it were an extension of yourself. “Come on, sweetheart. Time for bed.”

He expects you to fight him, to shove his hands away given the way your skin usually winces at the mere thought of him. Instead, you sink into his grasp, leeching his warmth, all but forcing him to carry your weight when you mumble something about your feet hurting in your heels.

He indulges you albeit selfishly. Cassian can’t help the way he melts when you drop your head into his shoulder, breath fanning along the length of his neck. Fingers grip onto the fabric of his top and toy with the ends of his hair. “Where are you going?” You slur out, gaze blurry but still cognizant of the route being taken. “The House of Wind is the other way.”

“You haven’t stepped foot in your room at the House. I figured you’d want to sleep in your own bed instead of the couch.”

There’s a brief pause. Your grip shifts on his shoulder. “I didn’t think anyone noticed that.”

Cassian’s lips purse, a sigh deflating the muscled pump of his chest. “I see you.”

A little scoff escapes you, breath tickling at his collarbone. “Yeah, now.”

“You’re drunk, we should wait to talk about this when you’re of sound mind.”

“No,” You shift in his grasp, head perked up as you stare at the side of his face. “We should now before I lose the nerve to say anything at all. I want to know—what do you see in me now that you never saw then?”

In retrospect, you should be alarmed that he knows the exact route to your personal residence. Should be angry that he knows precisely where you keep the spare key and irritation should brew in your belly the way he comfortably maneuvers around the space once inside. “Me leaving had nothing to do with you. Not really.”

“Then just tell me. I deserve the truth—for closure at the very least.”

It’s a struggle to let him go when he crouches down to set you on your couch. He’s on his knees when he answers, fingers undoing the tie of your heels around your ankle. “My whole life has been this never ending story of struggle and pain and hardship. I couldn’t tell you one time growing up where I experienced genuine kindness without the expectation of giving something in return. I can’t recall the softness of a mothers touch or the strength of a fathers love. I don’t know how to be gentle,” His hands shake when he takes your heels to the shoe rack by the door. He moves easily around your kitchen, knows which cabinets to open to procure a glass and is fully aware of where you keep the cold water in the fridge infused with berries and mint. “I was made to pillage and kill and destroy. I barrage my way through towns, scavenge their treasures and burn them to the ground in the name of my High Lord. That’s all I know—death and destruction. Hel, they call me Lord of Bloodshed, it’s engrained in the very marrow of my bones.”

“Cassian.”

“You are nothing like me.” He finally meets your stare, palms flat against cool granite, wings taut at his back. “You are kind, you’re generous; you’re selfless to a fault and I found myself…I found myself running through all the ways that being with me would destroy that part of you. I feared that being with me would snuff your light out.” Something serious fills his iris, burning gold looks at you but see’s right past you. His voice hardens, his shoulders stiffen to a straight line, spine like a metal rod. “Nesta is a cruel female—she is hard edges and clipped responses with words that cut like blades. There was not a loving or nurturing bone in her body. It was harsh and grating like sparring in the desert for days with no water and I got involved with her because I assumed that was all I deserved. Someone who bled and could make me bleed in return.”

It’s a sad realization. A harsh truth. One that makes the liquid courage burning through your veins dissipate like water droplets under the sun. Salty tears well in your eyes without any real reason and you struggle to keep them at bay. Bare toes draw up to the plush couch cushions, knees propping your chin up as your arms wrap around your shins to hide the frantic beat of your heart.

It’s all for naught. You keep forgetting about the divine connection you share with him, so accustomed to it being one sided that you don’t even realize how your shields have crumbled and you’re pushing uncapped emotion down the bond. All that shame and self-deprecation, the hatred and anger, the depression and brokenness you tried to patch up with distance and substances. “Did you—“ You hesitate, suck in a steadying breath. Attempt to appear stronger than you are and his wings drop an inch as he feels everything you do, the way you muster up a crumb of courage and build this armor around you. The selfless way you gentle your tone as to not scare him off in his moment of honesty. “Do you love her?”

“No. I don’t love her.” The answer is immediate, like a band snapping against skin and you don’t detect any lie. For some reason that makes the tears stream down your cheeks even harder, bottom lip wobbling with vulnerability.

“Did you sleep with her?”

Cassian sighs. “Not while we were together.”

“Okay.” You nod to yourself, trying to absorb the information. To close doors whose shadows have haunted you for months. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“That’s it?” He’s bringing you over a glass of water, dress shirt unbuttoned enough to show the planes of his chest and you struggle to not notice. “You don’t have anything else to say?”

“What else matters, Cass? What happened, happened. We both made our choices and I have a contract—I’ll be spending three months in Winter Court once I finish tying up lose ends in Summer, then I’ll be gone another three months in Spring to try and facilitate come semblance of unity between them and us.”

He scoffs at the business-like tone you take, he sits too close on the couch next to you. His thigh covers the length of your bare toes, warmth instantly settling in even if goosebumps liter your skin in direct contradiction. “What else matters? Us, we’re so unfinished. You can’t tell me you expect me to know about our bond and just let you go? To just let Tarquin swoop in and steal you from under my nose? Not a chance. I’d rather die.”

“I almost died.” You pull away from him, forcing distance even if every atom of your being protests against it. “Do you really think this was easy for me? That I just disappeared off to another Court, found some fun little fling and have a hot High Lord to fuck?” A calmer version of yourself would be worried about your volume, concerned about eavesdropping neighbors or bystanders passing the open windows and catching a glimpse of your dirty laundry. You can’t find it in yourself to care when you finally have Cassian’s full attention—now you can unleash every burden he’s cursed you with right back onto him tenfold. That desire only grows when you see the jealous curve of his brow, the grip on his glass that borders on too tight. “He’s not my lover since you’re so concerned. More like a glorified babysitter because the hole you left in my chest couldn’t be filled with any male or the substances they provided —trust me, I tried!”

You don’t mean to laugh, it’s not funny. Nothing about this was funny but the dam has opened and all of its contents spill free without any warning to those in its path.

“He’s my friend.” You spit out, cheeks flushed. “We’ve gotten close, I care for him. Nothing about it has ever been flirtatious or sexual. Are you satisfied now?”

He rises to his full height, two of his strides taking up the space needed to stand before you. “I won’t be satisfied until things between us are good again.”

“You’ll be waiting a while, General. I may be mated to you but I don’t trust you.”

Cassian isn’t deterred in the slightest at the way you snap his rank in his face. He barrels through the distance you try to keep like a bull barraging past red cloth. He walks you into a corner, the bare skin of your back meeting cool drywall. You stare up at him defiantly, not scared by his bulk or brawn. The cloak of his wings blocking out most of the golden light casting through the living space. “But, do you love me?”

“Cassian—“

“I’m a stupid male. I hurt you and I will spend the rest of my miserable existence making it up to you but I have to know.” Knuckles brush the curve of your cheek, thumb grazing over the plush of your mouth and you pray to the Mother above that he doesn’t notice the tremble that ensues from the touch. “You have to tell me—do you love me? Can you still love me despite it all?”

“That depends.”

Cassian presses closer, trapping you against his bulk. You can smell the shampoo he used, the woodsy body wash that lingers on his skin and the cologne that latches onto the fabric of his shirt. “On what?”

“On how serious you plan on taking this. I’ve been burned by you once and while I do believe in forgiveness I don’t believe in being made into a fool while you figure out what you feel you deserve for yourself.” Your voice is but a whisper, eyes scanning the familiar lines of his face until you can’t help but get stuck on the shape of his mouth. The way his tongue darts out to wet them. “I love you but I won’t act on that at the expense of being taken advantage of. I deserve better than that.”

“You do,” His touch wanders lower, grazes down the column of your neck, traces the line of your collarbone, ghosts over the swell of your breasts over the fabric of your dress. Goosebumps raise, a soft gasp pulling free when Cassian drops to his knees before you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust. I’ll do anything to earn you back. I’ll swear it, vow it, bargain my life for it—for you.”

Blaming the bond for what you allow next, you can’t help but assist him in tugging the hem of your dress up. He groans when he see’s a lack of undergarments, forehead dropping to your abdomen, nose nudging at the mound of your sex. Your scent evades his senses, grip going feral when he re-familiarizes himself with the shape of your hips, the curve of your thighs, the full slope of your ass. “Cass—“

“You’ve been bare under here all night?”

“Panty lines are tacky.” You pant like a dog in heat, back arching when one leg is quickly lifted and thrown over his shoulder. Painted toes tickle at the leathery texture of his wings, a violent shudder rippling through his body. “Please don’t tease,” One hand braces behind you on the wall, hips bucking forward as you desperately chase the heat of his mouth, melting into the wet kisses he trails up your inner thighs. “Waited too long for this.”

Cassian groans at the implication of no one touching you since the last time he had, some possessive piece of him flaring with pride. Every touch is charged, electrified; zaps of pleasure shooting up your very being when his tongue finally laps at where you need him most. Fingers dig into the thick of his hair, urging him closer, head tipping back when he teases at your clit, fingers prodding at your entrance and filling you full until legs shake and moans spill free like wine poured in a glass.

When it all becomes too much, he bares the brunt of your weight, lifting you as easy as linen, folding you like cloth when you’re carried to the couch and spread out like a freshly prepared feast.

All you can hear is your moans and his groans, the filthy promises he vows to keep while your essence drips down his chin. It glistens in the stubble of his beard, leaks trails down the cut of his chest until your fingers are straining to tug it off of him. You yearn for more, whimpering it out like some helpless animal, pouting when he takes too long to unbutton it so more skin can touch your own. “Missed this,” He confesses, abdomen bare and breeches untied. Two fingers spread you wide for his viewing pleasure, golden irises eating up the flesh you expose when the thin straps of your dress slip away, the swell of your breasts spilling free and nipples perking from the midnight chill. “I missed you. So soft, you know? Always so fucking soft.”

Too bad you want anything but soft. Rising up, this kiss you initiate is everything but delicate, a clash of lips and a battle of tongues; your taste mixing with his own. Teeth bite into the fat of your lip, Cassian’s grip traveling to your neck to tilt you to the side so more teeth can make their mark along the length of your neck, into the dip of your clavicle. Bruises are suckled along your shoulder, down your chest, possessively across your breasts. “Cass please,” You arch into his touch, brows crinkling under the pleasure he sends through your body—through this sacred bond you’d spent so long enduring on your own. Everything is amplified with his own feelings in the mix, desires becomes carnal need, love feels more like obsession, pleasure feels like drowning with no urgency to come up for air. Nails bite into thick muscle, the heels of your feet urging the waistband of his pants down low, low, lower until the turgid length of him is freed and pressing against you. “Need you inside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you serious about this?” You counter, the head of his cock nudging the slick warmth between your thighs. “About us?”

“Fixing what I broke is a covenant I will keep as long as there is breath in my body.” A gasp releases when thick swirled lines magically ink his flesh, beginning at the base of his heart and ending at his jaw.

A visible brand.

A bargain set in stone.

A promise embedded in the very marrow of his bones and filtering through his bloodstream.

“Whatever it takes, I will do.” Foreheads touch, bodies connect and for once in months you feel full—whole. “I am yours and you are mine.”

“Yours.”

Just know I be thinking of many many ideas for cassie boy 😈❤️ now to find the energy to write them

Pairing: Cassian x shy!reader

Summary: You’d retreated to the library’s depths, determined to heal from your past and ignore a certain Night Court general. But Cassian was relentless, determined to get to know the woman who made the golden tether in his heart flutter.

T/W: Talks of past trauma

A/N: Sorry the summary is bad; I swear the actual fic is good haha. I haven't posted in a little while so here's a Cassian fic while I work on the second part of the hunter and the hunted!

Masterlist

Sometimes you feel like you were born with your lips sewn shut. 

You had never learned how to speak for yourself or call someone out when they were being rude. You were born with a rock in your throat - a weight on your vocal cords. 

Silent as you were, you fell into the role of priestess easier than most. Having been rescued by the High Lord of the Night Court, who promised you safety and warmth over two months ago, you fit in more than some who have spent years hidden away in the library. But you liked being invisible, lost in the shelves of the books, blending into the stone walls.

Perhaps that’s why Cassian irks you so much. 

The One I Didn’t See Coming

pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: At a glittering ball in Velaris, Cassian, General of the Night Court and notorious heartbreaker, steps onto a quiet balcony for a breath of air and walks straight into a moment that will unravel everything he thought he knew.

You’re not like the others: witty, bold, and breathtaking in a red gown that haunts him long after he walks away. One kiss under moonlight threatens to undo years of carefully kept boundaries.

But when duty calls him away, Cassian finds himself caught between the war-hardened soldier he’s always been… and the tender beginnings of something real.

_______________________________________________

content warnings: fluff

word count: ~957

Permanent taglist: @motheroffae @tele86 @demon-master-zero @thegoddessofnothingness @rosecobollway @sillyfreakfanparty @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @plants-w0rld @frietiemeloen @the-hidey-hole @dnfhascorruptedme @lreadsstuff @bravo-delta-eccho @jesskidding3 @beyondblissxoxo @vanserrasimp @sophieliz @masbt1218

Cassian permanent taglist: @candyjaypoppins @coffeebooksrain18 @lilah-asteria

If you would like to be added to a permanent taglist, permanent character taglist or story taglist, please leave me a comment and let me know which taglist you want to be on!

Image owned by Dream World Dweller.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

*****

Chapter 13

Cassian’s boots crunched against the frost-hardened ground as he strode through the Illyrian camp, the wind sharp and cold as it always was in the mountains. Warriors snapped to attention as he passed, nodding with respect, some even smiling…a testament to how far things had come under his guidance. He acknowledged each of them with a nod, his face calm, commanding… but behind that composed exterior, his heart was full.

So much had changed.

Years ago, this place, the camps, the war, had been everything.

Duty had consumed him, defined him.

But now, as he walked the familiar dirt paths between tents and training rings, it all felt... quieter somehow.

Not unimportant, but no longer his everything.

Because his everything was back home in Velaris.

You.

The thought made a smile tug at his lips as he passed the weapons rack.

His mate.

His home.

His peace.

Your shop had been rebuilt with care…bigger, brighter, and more beautiful than it ever was before. The windows sparkled with displays of flowing silks and gowns hand-dyed in brilliant jewel tones. Even now, nobles from courts across Prythian sought out your designs, requesting pieces for balls, ceremonies, and coronations.

But you never let success harden you.

You still insisted on sewing some of the pieces by hand. Still greeted each customer who entered your flagship shop by name when you could. You’d even taken on apprentices, young fae with bright eyes and quick fingers, helping them open sister shops across the continent. You were building an empire, and you were doing it with grace and humility.

And gods, Cassian was so damn proud.

He still trained, still led, still commanded armies when needed, but his favorite battles now were over flour in the kitchen or which side of the bed belonged to whom.

He barely went to family dinners anymore unless you insisted, because if he had the choice, he wanted to be with you…home, cooking together, eating in front of the fire, your feet tucked into his lap as you talked about your day.

Quiet, simple moments.

The ones he’d once never thought he’d be lucky enough to have.

He ducked into the command tent, shaking the cold from his wings. Azriel was already there, bent over a map.

“She’s gaining ground here,” Azriel said without looking up, pointing to the eastern ridge.

But Cassian’s head was somewhere else, still in Velaris with you, counting the days…no, hours until your little one arrived.

You were due any day now.

Azriel must have sensed it. “Go ahead,” he said, not unkindly. “You haven’t heard from Rhys yet?”

Cassian shook his head, but before he could answer -

“Cassian,” Rhys’s voice thundered through the bond, breathless, urgent, “come home now. Y/n’s water just broke.”

Cassian froze for only half a heartbeat.

Then his entire being ignited.

“Az,” he breathed, already turning toward the tent’s entrance, “it’s time.”

Azriel clapped a hand to his shoulder, a rare grin on his shadowed face. “Go.”

Cassian launched into the skies, the cold wind biting at his face as he soared higher, faster, faster, heart slamming in his chest.

She’s in labor.

She’s in labor.

His mind chanted it with every powerful beat of his wings.

He sent a quick pulse through the bond, not wanting to overwhelm you, just a whisper: I’m coming, sweetheart. I’m almost there. Hold on.

The world blurred beneath him…valleys, forests, rivers.

All irrelevant.

All forgotten.

There was only you.

And her.

His daughter.

Madja had told him just days ago your little girl would have his wings.

Illyrian.

He hadn’t even known he was holding his breath until that moment.

That she would fly.

That she would soar.

Just like him.

His eyes stung against the wind.

He’d waited so long for this.

A family.

A future.

And now… it was here.

By the time Velaris came into view, its spires catching the golden light of late afternoon, his heart was thundering with such fierce joy it nearly overwhelmed him.

He angled downward toward your townhouse, where the front door was already open, Rhys waiting with a knowing smirk.

Cassian landed hard, barely folding his wings before rushing up the steps.

He didn’t care that his leathers were still dusted with mountain snow.

Didn’t care that his heart was pounding like a war drum.

Because you were inside.

Because your labor had started.

Because in a matter of hours, he would hold his daughter in his arms.

Finally.

The One I Didn’t See Coming

pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: At a glittering ball in Velaris, Cassian, General of the Night Court and notorious heartbreaker, steps onto a quiet balcony for a breath of air and walks straight into a moment that will unravel everything he thought he knew.

You’re not like the others: witty, bold, and breathtaking in a red gown that haunts him long after he walks away. One kiss under moonlight threatens to undo years of carefully kept boundaries.

But when duty calls him away, Cassian finds himself caught between the war-hardened soldier he’s always been… and the tender beginnings of something real.

_______________________________________________

content warnings: angst, fire, attack, blood, war

word count: 2.3k

Permanent taglist@motheroffae @tele86 @demon-master-zero @thegoddessofnothingness @rosecobollway @sillyfreakfanparty @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @plants-w0rld @frietiemeloen @the-hidey-hole @dnfhascorruptedme @lreadsstuff @bravo-delta-eccho @jesskidding3 @beyondblissxoxo @vanserrasimp @sophieliz @masbt1218

Cassian permanent taglist: @candyjaypoppins @coffeebooksrain18 @lilah-asteria

If you would like to be added to a permanent taglist, permanent character taglist or story taglist, please leave me a comment and let me know which taglist you want to be on!

Image owned by Velocity Visual Media.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

*****

Chapter 12

Cassian’s hands were still trembling, hours later, though he’d long since washed your blood from them.

The scent of smoke clung to his leathers.

To his skin.

To his soul.

He sat on the edge of the bed in the House of Wind’s infirmary, hunched forward, forearms resting on his knees, his wings low and dragging like dead weight.

His eyes hadn’t left your unconscious form in over an hour, since Madja had stabilized you, since they’d said you might make it.

Might.

Might wasn’t enough.

Not when he’d found you pinned beneath a burning ceiling beam, your leg crushed, your body limp, your lips blue.

Not when he’d felt your soul slipping away through the bond…so faint, so far away he thought it would snap and never return.

Not when your final thought, your final message through that bond, was an apology.

He choked on it every time it echoed in his mind.

I’m sorry.

Gods.

He could still feel it.

That last whisper from you.

Full of pain.

Full of goodbye.

He hadn’t known what it was like to beg the Mother until that moment.

He hadn’t known what it meant to be destroyed, until he found you.

He’d screamed your name.

Screamed like an animal.

Azriel had to drag him off the burning wreckage so he didn’t set himself alight trying to claw through the flames.

You had called his name once and then stopped responding.

He kept calling your name, begging you to stay with him but you didn’t respond again.

Not when he pulled you from the smoke.

Not when he flew you…barely alive through a sky choked with fire.

Not when he whispered your name over and over, pressing kisses to your ash-stained face, begging you to open your eyes.

Begging you not to leave him.

He didn’t know who he was without you anymore.

And the thought of a world where you didn’t exist…

He rubbed a hand over his face, digging his fingers into his scalp.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into the quiet room. “I’m sorry I shut you out. I thought I was protecting you.”

But all he’d done was break you.

He'd felt it.

Every day he blocked the bond, he'd felt the sickness gnawing at his soul.

The guilt.

The cold.

He had known what it would do to you, and still he’d done it, believing it was his duty.

Believing it was the only way.

But he was wrong.

He should’ve trusted you.

Should’ve leaned on you.

And now… now you might never open your eyes again.

He stood, unable to stay seated, and crossed the room. Dropping to his knees beside your bed, he reached out, gently brushing a piece of soot-streaked hair from your cheek.

Your skin was still too pale.

“I’m yours,” he murmured. “You hear me? I’ve been yours since the moment I saw you. On that damn balcony. And I’ll keep being yours…every day, for the rest of my life. Just… come back. Please.”

His voice cracked.

His heart cracked.

He pressed his forehead to your hand, cradling it in both of his.

And the war-hardened general wept in silence.

For the love he almost lost.

For the mate he couldn't bear to live without.

For every moment he should have said more.

Done more.

Held you tighter.

Outside the window, Velaris burned in patches still, but the stars were beginning to return.

He prayed you'd return with them.

*****

Time had passed, but Cassian hadn’t. Not from your side.

The room had smelled of healing tonics, blood, and smoke for days. Your body had been broken, but his soul had been torn apart watching you fade in and out of consciousness, caught in the grip of fever and pain, your breaths too shallow, your skin too pale.

Cassian never left.

Not for sleep.

Not for food.

He held your hand and whispered your name when the healers said you might not make it.

He paced.

He prayed to gods he didn’t believe in.

He screamed once, when he thought he’d lost you, so violently that it shook the walls.

Each night he curled into the chair beside your bed, wings splayed carelessly behind him, face resting against your arm, murmuring promises.

“I need you to wake up, sweetheart. I need you to come back to me.”

“I want to take you flying again. Just you and me.”

“I want a future with you. All of it. The messy parts, the quiet parts, the whole damn thing.”

He told you he loved you.

Again and again, like it was the only thing keeping his heart beating.

And then…your eyes opened.

Your world returned in fragments: pain, blurred vision, the dull pressure in your chest, and the sound of him.

Breathing.

Whispering your name like a reverent prayer.

Cassian.

You saw him. Slumped in that chair, face worn, eyes rimmed red. The sheer relief in his expression was staggering.

“Sweetheart?” His voice cracked as he leaned over you. “Gods, you’re awake. I thought -”

But the joy in his words broke against the quiet, still wall behind your eyes.

Because you remembered.

The silence in the bond.

The way you’d begged for even a sliver of him and been met with nothing.

Your throat was dry, raw from smoke, but the pain in your chest eclipsed it.

He had once asked you to never shut him out.

And he had done it to you without a word.

You turned your head, the smallest motion, but enough to show him.

You weren’t ready.

His hand stilled on yours.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice shaking with a fear far greater than any battle. “Please…just let me explain.”

You didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

Your tears were enough. They slid silently down your cheeks, carrying every ounce of betrayal, confusion, and longing with them.

He looked at you like you were the only star left in the sky, and he had no idea if you would ever shine for him again.

And even though you were alive…

It still hurt like dying.

The pain in your body was nothing compared to the storm behind your ribs.

Everything came crashing back.

The silence.

The days of emptiness.

The scream of the Attors.

The burning beam.

The last thing you’d done, opening the bond to tell him goodbye.

Your lips trembled. “You shut me out.”

Cassian stiffened, his grip loosening. “I know. I know, and I -”

“You shut me out, Cassian!” Your voice broke, hoarse and trembling, but the force behind it cut like ice. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t warn me. You just vanished and then you were gone. And I didn’t know if you were alive, or if you’d left me, or if you regretted -”

“I never -” He knelt beside the bed again, hands now on your thighs, his head bent. “I never regretted it. Not for a heartbeat. I love you. You have to know that.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, bitter and hot.

“Then why did you do it? Why did you promise me you'd never shut me out? Why did you make me trust you, only to rip that safety out from under me the moment it got hard?”

He pressed his forehead to your blanket-covered knees, shaking with the weight of what he had done.

“I had to be the General,” he rasped. “I had to shut everything else out to survive that mission. I thought I was protecting you…if you’d felt what I felt during those days, if you’d seen what I saw -”

“I didn’t need protection from the bond,” you cut in, voice trembling. “I needed you. I needed to feel you. You’re the one who told me never to hide what I was feeling. You made me promise.”

“I know,” he whispered. “And I broke that promise. I know. And I hate myself for it.”

You turned your head away, the hurt settling deeper, a rawness that no amount of love could instantly erase.

“You left me to wonder if I was enough,” you whispered. “To wonder if you’d changed your mind. To wonder if I was just some fleeting thing to you, a temporary comfort.”

“Don’t - don’t say that.” His voice cracked fully then. “You are my mate. You are everything. When I found you in the shop…when I saw you bleeding under that beam, I broke. I’ve never been more afraid in my life.”

You slowly looked back at him, your eyes rimmed with pain, with longing, with love that had been cracked but not yet destroyed.

“I’m still afraid,” you said softly. “Of what it means to love someone who can disappear. Who can choose duty over me.”

He moved closer, gently laying his hand on your chest over your heart.

“I will never choose anything over you again without telling you why,” he said. “I can’t take back what I did. I know I hurt you. But I would spend every day of the rest of my life proving that you’re not second. That you never were.”

Your bottom lip trembled as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your brow, reverent and broken.

“I was trying to protect you,” he said again, voice barely audible. “But in doing that, I almost lost you. And if I had… I would never have forgiven myself.”

You closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet,” you whispered.

He nodded slowly, eyes glistening. “Then I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Just… let me stay.”

You opened your eyes, met his, so full of regret, and aching love.

“Stay.”

And Cassian did.

He pulled the chair closer, laid his head beside your hip, and wrapped your hand in his once more.

*****

The days after you woke were a haze of pain, slow healing, and Cassian never once leaving your side.

He was always there.

When the healers came to clean your wounds.

When they changed the wrappings on your shattered leg. His hand was in yours with every breath of pain, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead, whispering soft, grounding words to tether you through the agony.

When your hands were too weak to lift a spoon, he fed you.

When you were too exhausted to bathe yourself, he helped you…gently, carefully, his touch reverent, tender, never once flinching at the bruises or scars.

In his eyes, you were still whole.

Still radiant.

He became your strength when yours faltered.

The nights were the hardest.

You woke crying, gasping for air as flames and wings haunted your dreams.

Screaming his name.

And every single time, he was already there, arms around you, holding you tightly.

Rocking you against his chest as you sobbed. Pressing kisses into your hair, whispering again and again that you were safe now. That nothing would ever hurt you again.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice raw. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

Some nights you clung to him like a lifeline, falling asleep with your face buried in his chest, his heartbeat a lullaby. And he never once pulled away.

When your strength began to return, he gave you space. Let you do what you could on your own, but he was always close. Always ready to catch you if you stumbled, to steady you with a smile when frustration crept in.

Weeks passed before he asked if you were ready to see the shop.

You hesitated, but nodded.

He flew you there, cradled against his chest, the city beneath still scarred by Hybern’s attack. When he landed outside the building, your breath caught.

Everything was gone.

Charred wood.

Broken glass.

The sign with your name was half-melted.

The windows were gone, the roof caved in.

The scent of smoke still lingered like a ghost.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Cassian’s thumb brushed your cheek.

He pulled you against him, arms wrapping around you with a fierce kind of love.

“I’ll rebuild it,” he said, his voice low and trembling. “Every piece. However you want. I’ll make it better than before. I swear.”

You clutched at the front of his leathers, sobs wracking your chest.

“It was mine,” you whispered. “Everything I built… it’s gone.”

Cassian leaned his forehead to yours, his voice breaking with you.

“I know, baby. I know. But you're still here. You're still mine. And as long as I have you, we can build it all again. Together.”

Pairing: Cassian x f!reader

Summary: Traditions are made to be respected, even when things change. And so, Cassian and his brothers bring their kids along to their snowball fight. But now, the fight is not the only thing Azriel wins.

Warnings: not really a warning, but there's very brief mentions of Feysand and Elriel

Word count: 1.9k

Main masterlist | Week masterlist | Cassian masterlist | AO3

@cassianappreciationweek

“Dad, watch out!”

The warning rang out across the slope, echoing through the white Illyrian mountains. But it was too late.

Before Cassian could move out of the way, a large snowball collided with his left temple. He groaned as the force of the impact snapped his head to the side.

He blinked a few times to clear his vision as more flying missiles were launched all around him. When the dizziness faded, he caught a glimpse of Azriel.

The One I Didn’t See Coming

pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: At a glittering ball in Velaris, Cassian, General of the Night Court and notorious heartbreaker, steps onto a quiet balcony for a breath of air and walks straight into a moment that will unravel everything he thought he knew.

You’re not like the others: witty, bold, and breathtaking in a red gown that haunts him long after he walks away. One kiss under moonlight threatens to undo years of carefully kept boundaries.

But when duty calls him away, Cassian finds himself caught between the war-hardened soldier he’s always been… and the tender beginnings of something real.

_______________________________________________

content warnings: angst

word count: 1.5k

Permanent taglist: @motheroffae @tele86 @demon-master-zero @thegoddessofnothingness @rosecobollway @sillyfreakfanparty @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @plants-w0rld @frietiemeloen @the-hidey-hole @dnfhascorruptedme @lreadsstuff @jesskidding3

Cassian permanent taglist: @candyjaypoppins @coffeebooksrain18 @lilah-asteria

If you would like to be added to a permanent taglist, permanent character taglist or story taglist, please leave me a comment and let me know which taglist you want to be on!

Image owned by AI Book Realms.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

*****

Chapter 10

The wind tore across the mountain pass, howling through the rocks like some ancient spirit warning them back. Cassian stood near the ridge, wings outstretched against the icy current as Azriel moved silently a few feet away, scanning the shadow-laced valley below.

But Cassian… Cassian wasn’t seeing the battlefield anymore.

He was staring into nothing, into the emptiness that echoed within him because you were gone.

Not physically.

No, that was what he had told himself over and over these past days…weeks.

She’s safe.

She’s in Velaris.

But the bond…

He had shut it down.

It had been the only way he could function.

The only way he could stop his heart from breaking with every pang of your fear, your grief, your longing pulsing through that tether.

He was the general.

He had to be the general.

The cold, ruthless soldier focused on the mission, on gathering intel, keeping Azriel alive, keeping Velaris safe…keeping you safe.

But he hadn’t considered what it would do to you.

What it would feel like to you.

What kind of wound it would leave behind.

He’d felt the moment the light dimmed on the other end of the bond.

Not your death, thank the Mother, no.

But something else.

A dimming of your soul, a grief so quiet and all-consuming it swallowed you whole.

And you had stopped reaching for him.

He hadn't meant for it to go this long.

The mission had grown more dangerous, more urgent with each passing day.

The news that the Mortal Queens had joined Hybern had turned everything upside down. They were no longer just tracking troop movements. They were trying to hold the damn line before it was too late.

But now he reached for you.

And there was nothing.

Not a flicker of your warmth.

No soft ache of longing.

No whisper of emotion threading back through.

“Y/N?” he whispered into the cold air, into the bond. “Sweetheart, please…”

Still nothing.

He gripped his knees as he crouched, his wings folding in tight, his chest hollowing as guilt and panic warred inside him.

He had known.

Known your wounds.

Known what silence and vanishing acts did to your soul.

You had told him of the last time, how it broke you when someone you trusted had left without a word.

And here he was, doing the exact godsdamned thing.

What had he done?

He pressed a shaking hand to the center of his chest, to the thread where the bond lived, where your presence should be…a golden warmth wrapped in laughter and silken skin and starlight.

Gone.

Dimmed.

Azriel’s voice broke the silence. “Cass…”

“I shut her out,” Cassian rasped, his voice hoarse. “And now she’s gone.”

Azriel was quiet a long time before saying, “You did what you thought you had to do.”

Cassian shook his head, jaw clenching. “That doesn’t make it right.”

He rose slowly, forcing himself to breathe.

Cassian didn’t sleep that night.

He sat at the edge of a campfire nestled beneath the outcropping of a craggy peak, the flickering orange light doing little to chase away the chill that had taken root inside him.

Azriel was silent across from him, shadows moving restlessly.

Perhaps even they could feel it.

The wrongness.

The absence.

He stared at the fire, but all he could see was you.

Your smile, the way you’d laughed when he kissed you outside her shop.

The way you’d leaned into him on that mountain hike, breathless and flushed from the climb.

The way your fingers had threaded through his hair like you belonged there…like he belonged to you.

And he did.

He belonged to you in every possible way.

And now… you’re slipping away.

He had never known how fast the bond could wither when left untended.

How something so fierce, so holy, could begin to dim like a dying star.

It wasn’t breaking.

No, he could still feel it, still sense you somewhere through the veil.

But the more days passed, the quieter it became.

The colder.

He couldn’t feel your laughter anymore.

Or your worry.

Or your love.

And that was what undid him.

He rose abruptly, retreating from the fire, ignoring Azriel’s glance. He walked a few paces to the edge of the cliff and stood there, the wind whipping around him, biting his cheeks, slicing into his heart.

“Y/N,” he whispered, barely able to get your name past his lips. “I know you can’t hear me. I know I shut you out. But I never meant for you to feel unloved.”

The wind didn’t answer.

Cassian pressed his hands against his face, dragging them down slowly as if he could erase the ache etched into his bones.

“I thought I could protect you this way. I thought if you didn’t feel my fear, my pain, you’d be safer. I didn’t think about what it would feel like for you…how it would feel to lose me while I’m still alive.”

He exhaled hard.

Every breath was agony now.

“But I’m coming back. You hear me, sweetheart? I’m coming back to you. And when I do, I’ll make it right. I’ll make sure you never doubt how loved you are ever again.”

He clenched his fists at his sides, wings tight behind him.

“I’m yours. Gods, I’m so fucking yours it’s driving me crazy to be this far away from you.”

He turned back toward the fire, dragging his feet, the heavy weight of what he had done pressing deeper into his chest.

Azriel didn’t say a word as he sat back down, just handed him a flask.

Cassian took it.

He didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

But long after the fire burned down, long after even Azriel drifted into light sleep, Cassian stared into the ashes…

And begged you through the bond, over and over again, to hold on.

Because he could survive war.

He could survive wounds, and blood, and darkness.

But he could not survive a world where you weren’t waiting for him on the other side.

*****

The cold wind bit across the Illyrian Mountains as Cassian crouched behind a jagged outcropping of rock, one hand clenched around the hilt of the dagger strapped to his thigh, the other resting against the frozen earth. His wings were folded tight behind him, muscles taut, every inch of him in full soldier mode…silent, alert, calculating.

Below, a cluster of Hybern soldiers moved through the narrow pass, their armor glinting in the moonlight. Cassian noted their direction, their numbers. He cataloged the insignias, the weapons, the accents in their barked orders.

Azriel’s whisper cut through the night. “They’re heading toward the west ridge. Could be positioning for an ambush near the border villages.”

Cassian gave a curt nod, slipping into the shadows beside his brother.

Azriel stilled. His shadows quivered, stretching out in long tendrils. His eyes narrowed.

"Cassian," he said tightly, pointing across the ridge.

Cassian followed the line of Azriel's gaze and his breath caught.

A legion.

Hybern's army.

Moving in formation, massive siege weapons rumbling behind them.

And flying overhead…the unmistakable leathery wings of the Attor.

Dozens of them.

"They’re heading toward Velaris," Azriel murmured. "Mother above..."

Cassian's blood turned to ice.

Velaris.

The hidden city.

Their home.

He felt the truth slam into him like a warhammer.

"The queens," Azriel growled. "They sold us out. They told Hybern where to strike."

Cassian didn’t hesitate.

He reached for the thread of the bond with Rhysand and sent the warning with all the force of his mind: Velaris is compromised. Hybern is moving with Attors. Queens betrayed us. Prepare to defend.

His hands shook.

Not with fear for himself.

But for her.

She was there.

In Velaris.

Unprotected.

Cassian turned to Azriel. "We need to move. Now."

He didn’t say it.

Couldn’t say it.

But the dread in his chest grew by the second.

Because if they didn’t make it back in time, if they were too late, the only thing that mattered to him in this world might be gone.

Forever.