Brute 172

 

Chapter 172 

ATASHA’S POV- 1 day before the testing 

The realization hit hard enough to stop my breath. 

No. It couldn’t be. 

But if I was right, if what I just felt meant what I thought it did, then Cassian could be in danger again. 

“What if…” I whispered, my chest tightening. “What if it’s not the stone?” 

Before I even finished the thought, I was already moving. The chair scraped back, the table rattled, and I bolted for the door. My pulse was pounding so loud I barely heard my own footsteps. I needed to find Elder Agape, to confirm it, to stop whatever might happen before it was too late. 

But I didn’t make it past the threshold. 

A hand caught my wrist. Cassian’s. 

I twisted to face him. “Let me go,” I said. 

He didn’t. His grip tightened, not to hurt, but enough to make me stop. His eyes locked on mine, cold and searching. “What did you realize?” 

“I need to see the elder,” I said quickly. “Now.” 

Cassian didn’t speak. His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching near his temple, the kind of reaction I’d learned meant he was thinking, hard. I could almost hear the thoughts grinding behind his eyes, but he didn’t let any of them slip through the bond. It stayed muted, sealed. 

“Cassian,” I said again, trying to steady my breath. “What if it’s because of my ability? What if that’s what the elder couldn’t explain?” His gaze sharpened, but he still didn’t answer. 

I took a step closer, my pulse still racing. “The night you touched the corrupted stone, I thought you absorbed it. But what if I was wrong? What if the stone wasn’t absorbed at all, what if it reacted to me?” 

His eyes narrowed slightly. 

“I remember what it felt like,” I went on. “It wasn’t peaceful, Cassian. It wasn’t like healing. It was a fight. The stone resisted. It clawed and pushed back like it wanted to stay alive, but I kept pushing until it broke. It didn’t merge with me. It was like a war, and I just happened to win.” 

The memory crawled up my spine, the cold surge through my fingers, the weightless heat that followed, the faint burn in Cassian’s hand when it went dark. It hadn’t felt right then, and it didn’t feel right now. 

Cassian’s expression didn’t change, but his silence stretched too long. He stepped closer, closing the space between us. His hand left my wrist only to rest against the side of my neck, holding me still. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he said. His tone left no room for argument. 

I frowned, startled by the sudden order. “Not even the elder?” 

He shook his head once. “Especially not him.” 

“But he might understand-” 

“No,” Cassian cut me off. His grip eased, but his eyes didn’t. “Whatever this is, it’s not something we share. Not yet. I’ll take you somewhere.” 

“Where?” 

He didn’t answer. 

Before I could ask again, he moved. In one motion, his arm slipped under my knees, the other around my back, and suddenly I was in the air. My hands grabbed his shoulders out of reflex as he lifted me effortlessly. 

“Cassian-” 

“Hold on.” 

The window was already open. He didn’t hesitate. The cold wind hit us as he leapt through, boots landing hard in the snow below. The impact barely jarred him. I caught my breath, clutching at his coat as he straightened. 

We weren’t running away from the mansion. He didn’t head toward the gates or the stables. Instead, he strode across the courtyard, cutting toward the woods behind the manor. 

Except it wasn’t really woods anymore. The winter had stripped it bare. The trees stood skeletal and gray, their branches heavy with frost, bending under thin sheets of ice. The snow swallowed everything beneath it -roots, grass, fallen leaves-leaving only uneven mounds of white that broke apart under Cassian’s boots. 

Wind hissed between the trunks, carrying flecks of snow that stung against my cheeks. The world looked frozen in time, colorless and silent except for the crunch of his steps. 

I turned my head toward him. “You’re not taking me out of the estate, are you?” 

“No,” he said. “Just far enough that no one will listen.” 

He slowed once the mansion disappeared behind the frost-covered trees. But he didn’t stop. 

Soon enough, the snow thickened the farther we went, until it started to climb up to his boots. Branches bent low from the weight of frost, brushing against my cloak as he carried me through them. The air bit colder here, heavy and sharp in my lungs. 

Then the trees opened into a small clearing, a pocket of white surrounded by tall, bare trunks. In the center stood a massive dead tree, its bark blackened and split down the middle like lightning had struck it long ago. Cassian stopped in front of it and set me down carefully. 

“Stay close,” he said. 

I frowned, watching as he knelt near the roots and brushed the snow aside with his gloved hand. Beneath the 

Chapter 172 

frozen surface was a slab of old iron, half-buried under ice. Cassian pressed his palm against it. For a second, nothing happened. Then, a faint click echoed, followed by a low grinding sound. The ground shifted. 

A section of earth swung open like a hidden door. 

I stared, eyes wide. “What is this?” 

Cassian didn’t answer. He just motioned for me to follow and dropped down first. 

I swallowed my questions and climbed in after him. My boots hit cold stone, and I blinked against the faint bluish glow coming from the walls. The tunnel wasn’t natural, it had been carved. Smooth walls lined with veins of faintly glowing fae stones lit the path. 

Cassian walked ahead. The narrow hall stretched deep underground, the sound of our footsteps echoing. The farther we went, the thicker the air became. It carried a metallic tang, iron and something else I couldn’t name, something faintly sour that made the back of my throat sting. 

We didn’t walk long before Cassian stopped in front of a heavy door. It was made of iron, old but solid, streaked faintly with frost. He laid his hand on the surface, and the metal groaned before slowly giving way. 

The air that escaped was different, warmer, but heavy enough to make me flinch. My chest tightened. 

Cassian stepped inside first. I followed, only to freeze. 

It was a chamber. The ceiling was low, supported by carved stone beams. On one side, I recognized old engravings, names, the Valemont crest etched deep into the rock. This was no ordinary room. 

“This is…” My voice came out quiet. “Your grandparents’ mausoleum.” 

Cassian didn’t answer. 

Then it hit me. 

A sharp pain tore through my chest. It was fast, searing, like a hot knife pressing between my ribs. I stumbled a step back, clutching at my shirt. My breath came short, the air turning thick. 

“What-” I started, but the words broke off. The glow from the walls flickered, no longer white-blue. It pulsed darker, uneven, bleeding red and black like the veins of something alive. 

The pain grew sharper, spreading through my arms. It wasn’t coming from me, it was coming at me. 

My eyes widened. “Cassian…” I managed, voice strained. “These stones…” 

He turned toward me just as I gasped, the realization clawing its way out of my throat. 

“Cassian,” I said again, my knees threatening to buckle. “They’re corrupted fae stones.”