ATASHA’S POV
Stay. The word echoed settled in my mind as his arm tightened around me. His hold left no room to slip away as if he’d already decided I wasn’t going anywhere. Well… not that I could if I tried. My body felt locked in place, every movement restricted. Even breathing took effort, and the thought of struggling against that strength seemed pointless.
Then, his head lowered until it rested lightly against mine. The weight of it wasn’t heavy, but steady enough that I felt the warmth of his breath mix with mine. My chest clenched, unsure if I should tense or relax, but for the first time since he dragged me into this cave, his presence didn’t feel like a threat.
It felt like he wanted me there.
I couldn’t tell who drifted off first. I didn’t even remember shutting my eyes. I knew I had been tired, but I hadn’t planned on falling asleep in Cassian’s arms.
Yet when my eyes opened again, the cave was lit by morning light. What surprised me most wasn’t just that I’d slept, it was that I felt rested.
The tension I’d carried for days had eased, my body no longer aching the way it had before. I immediately blamed his warmth. His arms had trapped me close, but somehow they had also kept me still enough to rest. Yes. That had to be the reason.
As if sensing that I was already awake, he too opened his eyes. Sadly, it was still as red as blood.
For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. Should I greet him? I didn’t know what to do. His eyes were still blood–red, fixed on me. I cleared my throat, forcing words out before my nerves stopped me altogether.
“I didn’t mean to sleep,” I blurted. “I was just too tired, and—”
Before I could finish, Cassian suddenly pushed up to his feet. His arm left me so fast that I toppled forward, landing on the cave floor with a hard thud.
“Ah-!” The sound escaped before I could stop it. My palms slapped the cold stone as I scrambled upright, stunned. I blinked at the empty space in front of me where he had been.
He didn’t look back. He didn’t say a word. Cassian’s broad frame filled the cave’s mouth for a moment, and then he was gone, rushing out into the snow.
I sat on the floor, completely speechless, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The words I’d started earlier still clung to my tongue, unfinished and pointless. My mouth opened, but nothing came out, so I shut it again.
What was I even supposed to say now? Had I offended him somehow? Should I have just kept quiet? Or maybe I should have simply thanked him, for letting me sleep in his lap instead of tossing me into the snow.
Then I heard it.
A growl rolled in from outside, deep and jagged, followed by another and another. Not wolves, not anything I
recognized, but close enough. The sounds overlapped, part snarl, part howl.
My stomach dropped.
I scrambled to my feet and ran to the cave entrance. The cold air slapped my face as I peered out.
Cassian was already in motion.
Beasts prowled the snowfield, their bodies low and lean, their shoulders bunched with muscle under patchy coats of dark fur. Their eyes burned bright in the dim morning light as they circled him, their paws tearing up chunks of ice with every step. There were at least six of them, maybe more shifting at the edges.
Cassian didn’t hesitate. Sword in hand, he met the first one head–on. The creature lunged, jaws wide, and he swung in a hard arc. Steel cut through its skull with a crack, black–blue blood spraying across the snow. The body dropped before its legs even folded.
Another came from the side. He pivoted, driving his elbow into its chest before stabbing straight through its ribs. It shrieked as he ripped the blade free, tossing the carcass aside like it weighed nothing.
The others pressed in, two at once, snapping for his arms and legs. He twisted, grabbed one by the neck, and slammed it into the other, both bodies rolling through the snow in a tangled mess. He was already moving again, boot stomping down to crush one’s spine as his sword tore into the other’s throat.
The growls around him rose higher, echoing through the air. The beasts weren’t retreating. They were drawn in, circling, waiting for an opening.
I gripped the wall of the cave, frozen where I stood.
Then something else caught my eye.
The snow.
It wasn’t white anymore. The powder around Cassian’s boots looked tinted, streaked with red that wasn’t only from blood. I looked up, squinting at the light breaking across the sky. The sun itself looked wrong, its pale gold washed out, shifting to a strange reddish glow.
The realization hit me like ice in my veins.
The red moon. It was tonight.
And it was already starting.
My attention snapped back to Cassian as three more beasts lunged at him at once. One went for his throat. another for his legs, the third circling wide, snapping at his side.
His sword flashed, cutting across the first beast’s muzzle and splitting it from jaw to eye. The second one clamped onto his leg, but Cassian’s boot drove down, crushing its skull into the snow with a sickening crunch. The third tried to leap onto his back, but he twisted, grabbing it mid–air by its hind leg. With one violent swing, he smashed it into the ground hard enough that the snow sprayed up in chunks.
I sucked in a breath, my dagger clutched close to my chest. The hilt dug into my palm as I held it tight, trying
to steady my hands. Mendez’s warning cut through my mind. Once the red moon began, everything changed. He’d said logic itself would bend, that beasts considered weak and inferior would grow stronger than even trained werewolves could handle.
And it was already happening.
I forced my focus on Cassian. Blood and black ichor streaked across him as he tore through another beast. His eyes glowed that same unnatural red, his movements faster and harsher than I had ever seen. Feral or not, he was the only thing standing between me and those creatures.
Only Cassian stood between me and death.
The clash outside raged on, Cassian’s blade cutting down another beast, his roar blending with theirs. My grip on the dagger tightened, my focus locked on him, until a sound pricked at the edge of my hearing.
A growl rumbled through the cave.
Not from outside.
Behind me.
The sound froze me in place. My stomach dropped, and I turned, my chest rising too fast with each breath.
Something hunched near the far wall.
It wasn’t like the wolves outside. This thing was smaller, its body bent and crooked, its limbs too long for its frame. Its eyes glowed a dull, sickly yellow that fixed directly on me. From its mouth hung two oversized fangs that jutted past its lips, wet with saliva. Strings of drool slid down its chin as its clawed hands scratched at the stone floor, leaving faint marks in the rock.
It looked like a monkey, but twisted, feral, wrong. Its back arched as it bared those fangs, ready to spring.
My dagger shook in my hand.
Before I could raise it, the beast shrieked and launched itself straight at me.
