Chapter 120
Chapter 120
ATASHA’S POV
Minutes ago, I was asking myself why I hugged him. Now, I’m scolding myself for even questioning it. He is my husband. Isn’t it only natural that I hold on to him when I see him safe?
“You saved me from the stone’s corruption.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I tried to avoid his eyes, but it was useless. My heart was too raw, too grateful, restless and perhaps too confused. All my life, no one had stepped between me and danger. No one but him. Over and over, he’d thrown himself into the fire, even if it meant getting burned.
For a moment, I thought about telling him what Elder Agape had said about the stone, about corruption, about bloodlines. Logic urged me to wait, to let him tell me what he knew first. So instead, I forced a different truth out. “I haven’t thanked you. Not really. For all of it.”
Now that I thought about it, this might have been the first time we were having a proper conversation.
I was already used to his silence, his way of watching me, weighing me, giving nothing back unless it was
necessary.
“I know I’ve doubted you before,” I admitted, my fingers tightening around my cloak. “And maybe I still don’t understand half of what you do. But you’ve kept me alive more times than I can count, even when it put you in danger. You didn’t have to. No one else ever did.”
Cassian didn’t answer. His silence was the same as always, but it didn’t feel cold. Then I felt his hand brush against me. Snow had clung to my cloak, and he brushed it away without a word.
I turned, caught off guard, and found him watching me. His crimson eyes didn’t waver. For once, I didn’t feel like prey under that stare. I felt… seen.
A week ago, I would have flinched, filled the silence with fear or awkwardness. Now, I made myself hold his gaze. My lips tugged into the smallest smile. “Thank you,” I said again, softer this time. “And… I’m sorry. For doubting you before.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t pull away.
The wind whipped around us, but for a moment, it felt like we were standing inside something else entirely, something that belonged only to the two of us.
But even as I stood there, a part of me twisted inside. Gratitude only carried me so far. The truth was, I wasn’t sure what to make of him, what he wanted from me, or why he kept throwing himself between me and death. Was it duty? Instinct? Or something I didn’t dare name?
The questions crowded my head until I blurted out something I hadn’t planned. “And I… I’m sorry. For revealing my ability.” My voice caught, and I rushed to cover it. “It was reckless, I know. Foolish. You warned me, and I ignored you. I wasn’t thinking–no, I was thinking, but it wasn’t the right kind of thinking.” I bit my lip, shaking my head. “What I mean is… you were right. I was careless, and if something happens because of me, then-”
I stonned heat creeping up my neck. The words sounded even worse out loud than they had in my head. It
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Chapter 120
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sounded awkward. Childish, almost. My chest tightened as if I’d just handed him another reason to be disappointed in me.
I expected silence. Or worse, that cool indifference of his that left me scrambling for footing. Instead, he
moved.
Cassian’s hand closed around mine. My breath caught. Before I could ask what he was doing, he pressed something into my palm. A square shape, heavier than I expected.
I blinked down at it. It was warm. Startlingly warm, as though it had been waiting for me. My fingers tightened, and I realized only then how cold my hands had been, stiff from wind and stone. He had noticed before I did.
I swallowed, my throat tight.
The square was covered in velvet, soft beneath my fingertips, black as night. Embroidered into the fabric was the crest of the Valemont House, deep red thread stitched into the shape of a wolf’s head, its eyes sharp, its snarl frozen mid–bite.
The weight of it in my hand felt heavier than the object itself. My chest ached in a way I couldn’t explain.
I lifted my gaze slowly, the velvet still clutched in my palm. He hadn’t moved. His crimson eyes stayed fixed on me, not demanding, not questioning. Just… there.
Something in my chest squeezed tighter, and for the first time, I didn’t want to look away.
Then suddenly, he said, “Thank you.”
I swallowed. Thank you? For what, exactly? “Thank you?” I echoed before I could stop myself. My voice cracked.
Cassian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled at the clasp of his cloak and slid it off his shoulders. The heavy fabric draped around me before I had the chance to protest. His movements were simple, almost thoughtless, but the weight and warmth of it sank into my skin like an anchor.
“It’s cold,” he said.
A laugh escaped me before I could rein it in. “I don’t get sick. Except that one time but you know… I-‘
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His crimson eyes flicked down at me, unamused. I cleared my throat quickly, clutching the cloak tighter around me. “Still… thank you.”
His hand lingered against mine, the same one still holding the velvet warmer. His grip was firm, not crushing but enough to stop me from fidgeting.
“You think I do these things because I have to,” he said, his tone flat, but his eyes told a different story. don’t.”
My chest tightened. The weight in his voice wasn’t tender, but it wasn’t empty either. It felt… solid and somehow it felt… real.
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Chapter 120
A
Most
Before I could piece together an answer, he shifted closer, the edge of his hand brushing my jaw as if testing whether I would pull away, I didn’t.
“Come,” he said instead, abrupt, as though he’d already decided something. “I’m taking you somewhere.
“Somewhere?” My voice pitched higher, caught between confusion and something warmner that I didn’t want
to name.
He didn’t explain. He only moved, his hand sliding from mine to my waist in one fluid motion. Then he lifted me as though I weighed nothing, my body colliding against the solid wall of his chest.
“Cassian-” My protest snapped into the air but was swallowed by the sudden drop.
He jumped.
The tower vanished beneath us, the wind tearing at my cloak as the ground rushed up. My stomach lurched, but before I could scream, we landed with a heavy thud outside the gates. His arms never wavered. He didn’t even stumble.
The snow crunched under his boots as he straightened, still holding me. The only sound was the wind whipping around us and the pounding of my own heartbeat.
I clutched at his shoulder, staring up at him, breathless. “You could have warned me.”
He looked down at me, his mouth set in that faint line of his that could almost be a smirk. “You’d have refused.”
He was right. And for some reason, that made my face heat all over again.
AD
