Chapter 3
“Put it down.”
“Be careful, My lord,” the man said, eyes still locked on me. “She’s a witch. Witches can hide their appearance and easily trick you. They must be killed.”
Cassian frowned. He glanced at the man. “Do you smell sulfur?”
The man blinked, confused. “No, my lord.”
smell anything rotten?”
“Do you smell
“…No.”
Cassian looked back at me, then smiled faintly. “Then she’s not a witch. Just a helpless Omega.”
The man’s grip didn’t ease. His eyes flicked toward Cassian like he was debating whether to obey.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Cassian’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.
The pressure in the room immediately shifted. The kind of stillness that came before blood was spilled.
Finally, the blade lowered.
A sting lit across my throat, just a thin line, shallow, but it burned. The bastard glared at me like I’d caused it.
Cassian didn’t look at me. “Leave.”
The man didn’t move.
Cassian’s gaze sharpened. “I said, leave and go to the penitentiary hall for a week.”
There was tension in the air for a beat too long. Then the man bowed stiffly and turned on his heel. The door closed behind him.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips. My hand hovered near my neck. Just like the cut on my hand, the wound on my neck was now gone. I swallowed and looked back at Cassian.
“Does anyone else know about this?” he asked.
I let out a short breath and shook my head. “You saw how your man reacted. What do you think my father would do?” A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “He wouldn’t need a sword. He’d hand me over to the Council himself.” Killing a witch is an honor. But handing a witch to the council would give them merit.
“Not even your lovely little sister?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I didn’t want to expose her to anything or force her to hide this secret for me. It was a burden.” That was an honest answer. How could I let Celeste carry this burden with me? Working with someone that they considered a witch is punishable by death.
Chapter 3
Cassian said nothing.
Instead, he stepped forward and took my hand, the one I had cut.
I flinched. “What are you-?”
He brought it to his nose, inhaling slowly like he was memorizing the scent.
I tried to pull away, but his grip didn’t budge.
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“What are you doing?” I asked, my heart starting to race. He didn’t answer. Then he stepped closer.
In one clean motion, his other hand slid behind me. Without saying a word, he pressed his face against the side of my neck.
I froze.
The heat of his breath skimmed my skin. His grip on my hand remained firm. I could feel the solid weight of him, the cold dampness of his coat, the quiet threat wrapped around every inch of his stillness.
My heart slammed against my ribs–loud, fast, out of control.
He didn’t move. Not right away. Just stood there, breathing me in like a predator cataloging its prey.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes met mine with a sharpness that pinned me to the floor.
“You don’t smell like blood,” he said.
My face burned. “No… my lord.” What was I even thinking? Of course, he was trying to see how good my ability was.
“And your wounds are healed. No scars or any signs that it has been there.”
“Yes.”
Without hesitation, he took the dagger from my hand and dragged it across his own palm.
My eyes widened. “What are you—
“Heal it.” It was an order I cannot refuse.
I stared at him. Lunatic! This man is crazy! Yet I took his calloused hand without asking questions.
My fingers touched the wound.
And just like before, it vanished.
The torn skin pulled together seamlessly. No blood, no scar, not even a mark. Like it had never been there at
all.
I then quickly pulled my hand away.
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This wasn’t normal. Even among wolves, even with fast healing, this wasn’t that. This was something else. Something dangerous.
Cassian looked at his palm, then chuckled.
“So… you’re not a witch.”
I said nothing. My hands stayed at my sides, steady only because I forced them to be.
Everyone knew how witches were marked. Their rituals left a lingering stench of sulfur on their skin. No magic could hide it. Even the finest glimmering glamours decayed in time.
Witches depended on elaborate spells and careful preparations. None of them could heal with a single touch. Something always had to be given back. “I am not,” I answered.
Cassian studied me a second longer, then dropped his hand.
“I can be useful,” I said quietly. “If you spare my family… I’ll serve you. I’ll owe you my life. I’ll bind myself to your name.”
His sneer was immediate.
He turned to face me fully. “And what made you think you had the upper hand?” His voice was cold, amused. “What gave you the idea that you were in a position to offer terms?”
Words caught in my throat. My knees weakened beneath me.
“I could force you to serve me,” he said, stepping closer. “And not even the King would object. I could make you my little pet, and no one would dare ask questions.”
My mouth opened, but no sound came. Shame heated my face as I dropped my gaze. He was right. He could just force me to do his bidding, and I would be powerless. Weak.
“Please…” I whispered. “Spare them. Whatever happens to me… just don’t hurt them.”
He was quiet for a moment.
Then suddenly his arm shot out and grabbed me.
“Hey!”
He didn’t answer. One arm locked around my waist, jerking me forward so fast I hit his chest. The wind knocked out of me.
“What are you-” My words choked off.
He leaned close.
“So naive,” he muttered. “Let me show you how great your family really is.”
And then he moved.
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There was no time to struggle. No time to think. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, one arm beneath my legs, the other across my back. The window slammed open behind us. Cold air and rain swallowed us whole as he jumped from the roof to a familiar balcony.
He moved like he belonged here, like this had always been his home.
Before I could catch my breath, soft laughter filtered through the door of the balcony. I froze.
“See, Celeste? It worked,” my mother’s voice echoed against my ears. “All those years of pretending, of treating her like one of our own. It paid off.”
My heart stopped. Pretending? What are they talking about?
“She signed that treaty herself. Walked straight into it.”
I stiffened. They were talking about me?
“You were right,” Mother said, her voice swelling with pride. “Convincing her that you were the only one she could trust… it was enough. She sacrificed herself without question. I knew keeping her around would be useful. In the end, I was right.”
“Mother,” Celeste said lightly. “You can’t say that. You’ve treated her like your daughter for years… you at least feel a little bad, right?”
should
“Feel bad? Are you jesting?” Mother scoffed. “She’s not my blood. Not your father’s either. She’s leeched off us long enough. We fed her, clothed her, raised her, even though she’s the daughter of a savage. And now? She’s done the one thing she was born to, die for you.”
A sharp ache bloomed in my chest. What are they talking about?
Celeste’s voice came again, softer now, almost wistful. “I guess… knowing she agreed without us forcing her makes me feel less guilty.” Her sweet voice drifted towards me. How could she say that? How could-
A tight grip on my wrist reminded me not to make a sound. I looked at Cassian. He was smiling, pleased with whatever it was he was hearing.
“Don’t,” Mother replied. “This was your idea. And it worked. You’ve secured your future, our pack’s alliance, and you didn’t have to lift a finger. And for that… you deserve a reward for all the hardwork.”
I didn’t breathe. What is this?
What are they saying?
My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my palms.
“What is this?” Celeste asked.
“A gift,” she said. “You deserve it. You’re the reason this worked.”
“We shouldn’t celebrate yet,” Celeste said. “The Tyrant Lord hasn’t taken her. Until she leaves with him… nothing is guaranteed.”
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“Stop worrying,” my mother said with a laugh. “Atasha is nothing but your pet. Once the Tyrant Lord takes her, then her life is sealed…”
And just like that… Everything inside me broke.
AD
