Brute 160

ATASHA’S POV 

Wait until we get home. 

Those words kept echoing in my head, looping over and over until they made it hard to think. I was standing in the study now, facing Cassian. The trip back had been silent, every step of that horse burned into my memory–the way his breath had hit my neck, the heat of his body pressed against mine. 

My chest rose and fell faster than it should. “What is going on with me?” I finally asked, my voice lower than I meant it to be. 

Cassian looked at me, then at the faint mark still glowing faintly near my collarbone–the bond mark. His jaw tightened. “It’s the bond,” he said. “It’s reacting. The more time we spend near each other, the stronger it pulls. My presence makes it worse.” 

I swallowed, trying to slow my heartbeat. The fire from before hadn’t faded; it had followed me here, simmering just under my skin. “Then that explains why I’m reacting to blood,” I said. “It’s because of you. Because of the bond. It’s a consequence of being… mated to you.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing my words. “You’ve known that since the day it formed.” 

“I know,” I admitted, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “It’s just–new. All of it. It feels like everything inside me is… louder. I can’t control it.” 

Cassian took a slow breath. “Then it might help if I stay away from you for a while. Give it time to settle.” 

Something twisted in my chest. He said it so casually, like it was the most practical choice in the world. “Stay away?” I repeated. 

“If that’s what you want,” he said. 

I didn’t answer. I just stared at him–really stared. The lamplight caught the edge of his profile, the faint cut at his jaw from the earlier fight, the way his hands flexed once before falling still. 

He turned toward the door, as if the conversation was over. 

“Wait.” 

He stopped, hand on the doorknob, but didn’t turn yet. My heart hammered so hard I could hear it in my ears. I took a step forward, then another, until I was standing just behind him. 

“Stop,” I said quietly. “Don’t.” 

He finally turned his head, one eyebrow lifting like he’d been expecting it. That look made my stomach tighten. I hated that he already knew how I’d react before I even said it—but there was something in that familiarity that pulled at me too. 

“What did you say?” he asked, his voice low. 

1 forced the words out. “Don’t leave. Don’t stay away.” 

Something flickered in his expression–gone before I could name it. Then he moved. One step. Then another. The air between us grew smaller until I could feel the heat coming off his body again. My pulse jumped. 

“If I don’t stay away,” he said quietly, “my emotions will overwhelm you. You’ll feel everything I feel.” 

My throat was dry. “It’s fine,” I whispered. “Just don’t stay away from me.” 

His gaze locked on mine, and for a moment, neither of us moved. The tension in the room thickened, wrapping around us like a second skin. His breathing deepened, and I could feel it in my chest, like it was syncing with my own. 

I looked up at him, and I didn’t know where the courage came from–or if it was courage at all. Maybe it was the bond. Maybe it was something worse. 

I rose onto my toes and kissed him. 

It wasn’t soft or careful. It was heat and confusion and everything I’d been trying to ignore since the moment he pulled me onto that horse. His lips were warm, firm against mine, and when he didn’t pull away, my chest ached harder. My fingers found his coat and gripped it, pulling him closer even though I knew I shouldn’t. 

Cassian’s hand came up, fingers sliding into my hair, holding me there. The bond pulsed hard enough that it almost hurt. When he finally broke the kiss, he didn’t step back. His forehead rested against mine. 

His eyes caught the light, gold shifting toward a deep red at the edges, the color almost glowing. It made it hard to breathe. I didn’t know how things had turned into this–how one look, one word, could strip away everything between us–but I didn’t hate it. I liked it too much. 

Cassian’s gaze moved from my mouth back to my eyes, and something in him broke loose. He framed my face with both hands, rough palms hot against my skin, and kissed me. It wasn’t careful. It was the kind of kiss that demanded air and reason and left neither. He kissed me like he was holding himself back from more, and every tremor in his hands told me how much effort that took. 

My body reacted before my mind caught up. The bond flared, heat racing through my veins until it was hard to tell where my pulse ended and his began. My hands slid up his chest, clutching at his shirt, and he deepened the kiss until the air between us disappeared. 

When he finally lifted me, I gasped, half from surprise, half from the closeness. Papers scattered as he brushed a hand across the edge of the desk, clearing it without looking. The sound barely registered before he set me down on the polished surface, keeping his body between my knees. 

We stayed there for a heartbeat, breathing the same air, eyes locked. His thumb traced my jaw, and the heat that had been simmering since the ride back roared to life again. I swallowed as the need inside me flared. 

No this was not a need anymore. It was hunger, raw, undeniable hunger. 

The air between us thickened until I could feel every breath he took. My pulse beat hard against the side of my throat. Cassian’s eyes followed the movement, gold deepening to red again. The bond thrummed between us, dragging at my chest, pulling me closer whether I wanted it or not. 

I lifted my head, baring my neck without meaning to. The movement was instinct more than thought, an offering, a challenge, I didn’t know which. His gaze flicked to the hollow of my throat, then back to my eyes. The muscle in his jaw tightened. 

The heat crawling under my skin made it hard to think. My fingers found the clasp of my cloak and fumbled with it. The sound of metal sliding free was small, but in the silence of the study, it felt loud. The cloak slipped from my shoulders and pooled at my elbows. The air touched my skin, cold compared to the heat building between us. 

Cassian didn’t move at first. His eyes tracked every small shift, every breath. I could feel the restraint in him, the tension that ran through his body like a drawn bowstring. His hand lifted, stopping just short of touching my collarbone, hovering there, uncertain. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice rough, lower than before. 

The question cut through the noise in my head. I met his eyes and didn’t look away. “I’m not asking you to stay away,” I said quietly.