Chapter 137
Chapter 137
ATASHA’S POV
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I didn’t need a mirror to know I was blushing. My face was probably as red as the stones near the forge.
Cassian was already in the pool, his hand still held out to me. The water came up to his waist, rippling faintly around him. The faint blue light from the cave made his skin look sharper, his shoulders broader, every scar more visible. I didn’t even know where to look. Or maybe I did, and that was exactly the problem. Slowly, I removed the cloak that hid my ruined dress.
He had seen me naked in the past. He had touched my body, the body that already belonged to him since I signed my name in that parchment of paper. I couldn’t understand why I was even hesitating this time. I swallowed then removed the rest of my clothes. Then, I purposely lowered my gaze, avoiding his eyes as I moved.
The water was cold when I stepped in, but the moment I moved closer, it didn’t feel cold anymore. Maybe because of how close he was. Maybe because I could see him clearly now, just a few inches away, bare, calm, like this was nothing. But for me, it was definitely something.
My heart wouldn’t stop racing. It was ridiculous, really. I had seen him shirtless before, many times. But this time, it was different. I felt like my entire brain had gone blank, except for one very stupid question sitting right at the edge of my tongue.
And of course, I asked it.
“Do you… um… need help bathing?”
The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to drown myself on the spot. My hand twitched toward my forehead, ready to slap some sense into it, but it was too late. The words existed now, out loud. Echoing in a
cave.
Cassian’s head tilted slightly. He didn’t answer right away, which made it worse. The silence was torture. Then, finally, he said, “Yes.” I thought I heard some mirth in his voice.
I froze. “Yes?”
When I looked at him, his eyes had changed. The red on it looked even redder, it looked bright and burning, like molten metal. For a moment, I couldn’t even think. It didn’t look dangerous, just intense. Too intense.
Then, before I realized what I was doing, my hand lifted, reaching for his face. I wasn’t thinking, I just wanted to touch him. Maybe to see if he was real, or maybe because something inside me wanted to close that small distance between us.
But before my fingers could reach him, his hand moved. He caught my wrist mid–air. The touch wasn’t rough, but it stopped me completely. I stilled, breath caught in my throat.
For a second, I thought he was going to pull me closer again. My heart jumped at the idea, and I felt every beat echo in my ears. His fingers tightened slightly around my wrist, firm but not hurting, and then… he pressed something into my palm.
18:35 Sat, Oct 11
Chapter 137
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I blinked and looked down. A round, smooth object sat there. It felt soft, slightly grainy, and smelled faintly of
herbs.
“It’s soap,” he said.
Soap? That was definitely not what I expected.
I swallowed hard. “Soap,” I repeated, because apparently, my brain had stopped forming useful words.
He gave a faint nod, the corners of his mouth twitching like he knew exactly what I was thinking. “You wanted to help me bathe,” he said.
I wanted the cave to swallow me whole. Of course he remembered that. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I mumbled, though my voice sounded too small to matter.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned around. Water rippled around him as his back came into view.
I froze.
I’d seen the scars before, but standing this close, I noticed how deep they ran, thin, curved marks across his shoulders and down his spine, some old, some newer, each one a reminder of what he had endured. My throat tightened.
Suddenly, the soap felt heavy in my hand.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask me to begin, but somehow, I knew he expected me to. I stepped forward, the water sloshing softly around us. My hand trembled a little as I pressed the soap against his skin.
The first touch made him flinch, not much, just a small shift of his shoulders, but enough for me to pause.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked quietly.
“No,” he said, voice low. “Just cold.”
Cold? For some reason, a part of me could not believe that, but still… I nodded and continued, tracing slow circles across his back. The soap slid easily over his skin, the motion steadying my nerves bit by bit. I could feel his muscles tensed and relaxed beneath my hand, solid and warm even under the chill of the water.
It was strange, how something as simple as washing him felt more intimate than anything else we’d done.
He didn’t speak again, and neither did I. However, the silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, but calm.
As I moved lower, the scars became fewer, the skin smoother. My fingertips brushed one of the deeper lines that crossed near his ribs. He let out a quiet breath, and I felt it, not just the sound, but the warmth of it, the way it rippled through him.
I hesitated, “Cassian?”
He didn’t turn. “Hm?”
“Do they still hurt?”
18:35 Sat, Oct 11
Chapter 137
“Sometimes,” he said. “But not when you touch them.”
:
My hand stilled for a moment. My chest felt too tight to speak.
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I looked at him again, at the scars, the faint shimmer of water on his skin, and I realized something. He didn’t flinch because he was cold. He flinched because no one had touched him like this before, without fear, without pity, without expecting anything in return.
The thought made my heart twist.
I pressed the soap against his shoulder again, slower this time. He didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned slightly into the touch.
1 cleared my throat, thumb skimming one of the deeper lines near his ribs. “My ability can’t take these away,” I said. “No matter how many times I try.”
He was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t need them gone.”
I frowned, not understanding. He turned to face me. I tipped my head up and met his eyes.
“These were here before we met,” he said. “Before you ever healed me.”
“I know.” I swallowed. The tightness in my chest shifted into something warmer, heavier. Then, that same feeling from earlier… the want, the need and whatever it was that rose fast and wouldn’t settle inside me. My gaze slipped to his mouth before I could stop it.
His eyes dropped to mine, then to my lips, like he noticed exactly where I was looking. The space between us felt smaller than it was.
“You hate seeing them,” he said, nodding toward his scars.
“I hate that you got them alone,” I answered.
His jaw eased. “I’m not alone now.”
The water lapped softly around us. I still had the soap in one hand, he reached for it, but instead of taking it, his fingers wrapped around my wrist and guided my hand to his shoulder. Heat ran up my arm at the contact.
“They remind me I survived,” he said, quieter now. “And that I lived long enough to find you.”
My throat went tight. I couldn’t think of anything smart to say. I didn’t want to. The pull in my chest pushed me forward that last inch.
“Cassian,” I breathed.
“Hm?” His focus didn’t leave my face.
I hesitated, the words sticking, then came out anyway. “Kiss me.”
