Chapter <b>6 </b>
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Cassian leaned back, eyes flicking toward Celeste. “Serve us some pastries.”
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Her smile didn’t falter, but I saw the twitch in her fingers as she reached for the tray. This was a future Luna who had been reduced to serving snacks. I didn’t miss the way her eyes darted to Father, waiting for him to step in. He didn’t.
I watched her ce the tter between us, each motion stiff. She’d prepared the wine, now the food. What next? Sweep the floors?
How could Cassian casually embarrass Celeste? Did he not know that she was set on marrying the Alpha King? Yet a part of me could not help the small sense of satisfaction blooming inside me. Was he doing this because of me?
No. How could I even think of something so absurd?
Cassian reached for a pastry and took a slow bite, chewing like he hadn’t just humiliated Celeste in her own home. Crumbs clung to his lower lip. He licked them away with ease, then turned his attention to me.
My gaze stayed low, but I could feel Celeste’s stare scorching the side of my face. Then, without looking at her, he extended the half–eaten pastry toward me.
“Eat,” he ordered.
I hesitated for half a second. Then nodded and leaned in, my lips brushing the spot where his fingers had held the edge. I took a bite, tasting honey and heat and something far more dangerous beneath it all.
His eyes didn’t leave me.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper.
Something in my stomach twisted. Not from fear. From something worse. Something I didn’t
want to name.
“The Fang Demons will be marching next week,” Father said, cutting into the tension like it
wasn’t even there.
Cassian didn’t look at him. He reached for another pastry.
“Talking about demons on my wedding night,” he muttered as he brushed the crumbs from his fingers. “How festive.”
“My lord, if the Fang Demons move, Nightfall will be the first to fall,” Father said, his voice
tighter now. “We’re positioned directly in their path.”
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Cassian finally met his gaze. “A third of my army will be stationed here,” he said. “Let theme.”
Father faltered. I felt it. It was the way his shoulders shifted slightly, like the answer wasn’t what he expected. Or maybe it was too generous. Was he expecting him to leave a third of his army?
Why would Cassian offer so much so easily? One would wonder why the Lord of the North would suddenly leave his army in the south. But then again, these are the things that I wouldn’t be able to understand.
I nced at him. He didn’t even look interested in the conversation. He was back to reaching for another pastry, lips stained faintly with wine.
Celeste sat back down quietly, trying to regain herposure. But I could see it now. Cassian wasn’t just making a point. He was taking control of the room, piece by piece. First with the wine. Then with the pastries. Now with the war.
And I was sitting right beside him, silent, watching it all unfold. “The war doesn’t interest me nearly as much as my new bride,” he said.
I froze<i>. </i>My head snapped toward him. What was he saying?
Then he added, “I’ve reviewed the dowry you prepared. It’s rather modest for the eldest daughter of an Alpha, don’t you think?”
My mouth went dry. Dowry?
Why is he talking about a Dowry?
“My lord…” Father began.
Cassian didn’t even let him finish. “The dowry,” he said coolly. “Was prepared by your Luna, my bride’s own mother, was it not?” There was something about the way he said it, something that reminded me of the words that my own mother said the other night.
He turned his head slowly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was meant for a servant.” His gaze sharpened. “Are you certain I’m marrying your daughter, Alpha Collin?”
Father stiffened. “Are you suggesting I’d lie to the crown?”
Cassian’s eyes glinted. “Did you?”
“Preposterous!” Father snapped. “I would never endanger my pack with such deceit.”
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“Then summon your Luna,” Cassian said, voice like a de drawn in the dark. “I’d like to speak with her directly.” It wasn’t a request. It was amand.
And in that moment, I realized something unsettling. My father might’ve ruled Nightfall with authority. But Cassian Valemont? Cassian didn’t rule. He conquered.
The room immediately tensed. I heard the quick intake of breath from Father. Celeste shifted in her seat. Even the servants at the edge of the room stilled.
“My lord,” Father said quickly. “If the dowry feelscking, we can add to it, whatever you need. There’s no need to involve-”
“I asked for the Luna,” Cassian said, louder this time, like he was daring someone to defy him. “Unless you’re saying your wife sent me an insult on purpose.”
“No, of course not. I’ll call her at once.” Panic flickered in Father’s eyes. He gestured for the servants to call mother.
Seeing this, Cassian leaned back, looking far too amused for someone supposedly offended. His gaze slid to me briefly, then away, as if I wasn’t the topic at all, just the excuse.
“Tell me,” he added offhandedly. “If Lady Celeste were the one marrying into royalty… would her dowry be the same?”
No one answered. We all knew the truth. And so did he.
If it was Celeste, they would probably empty the whole treasury.
It didn’t take long before Mother entered. She gave a quick bow. “My lord, I heard you had concerns about the dowry. I—”
Cassian rose before she could finish. “I’m not interested in excuses.”
The room fell silent. What is he doing now?
He stepped forward. “My consort will receive what she’s due, I expect a full inventory of the dowry before we depart tomorrow. If anything is missing…” He let the words hang. He didn’t have to finish it as everyone inside the room knew what he meant. He would raise hell.
Then he extended a hand toward me. “I’m tired. We’ll be going to our quarters now.”
My lips parted, but no sound came. I have never met anyone so viscous and yet so confident that no one else in the room would dare say a word against him.
Despite this, I rose and ced my hand in his. We had barely taken a few steps when a servant moved to lead the way. Cassian halted.
“My bride will take me to our rooms,” he said.
That was all it took.
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The servant froze, bowed quickly, and stepped aside without a word. The others followed, retreating like shadows at dusk.
We left the study in silence.
I led him through the hallways, past the council wing and through a door I had only seen opened once in my life. The guest quarters for visiting royalty and war generals. I wasn’t supposed to be here. Wolfless girls weren’t even allowed near this hall, let alone through its
doors.
But now… I was the bride. His bride.
Thetch clicked as I shut the door behind us. I turned slowly, taking it in.
The room was enormous–bigger than my father’s chambers. A firece already crackled to life in the corner. There was a private living room, velvet chairs surrounding a table carved with the Nightfall crest. A curtained window opened to a view of the east gardens. A polished oak bar gleamed beneath a wall of crystal bottles. The bathroom was visible through an arch- massive tub, gilded fixtures. And at the center of it all, the bed. Four–posted. Drenched in silver linens. The kind of softness you’d expect in a fairytale.
I stood there frozen for a second too long.
Cassian shrugged off his outer garment–some kind of military cloak, ck with red northern embroidery near the cor. It hit the floor without ceremony. Underneath, he wore a dark shirt, slightly damp at the cor, sleeves rolled to his forearms like he hadn’t even bothered dressing for court.
He didn’t speak. Just walked past me and lowered himself into the nearest chair like he owned the room. One arm drapedzily over the backrest. He looked at me–not directly, at least.
“Wine,” he said, without looking up.
I nodded and turned toward the bar, keeping my steps light. I didn’t want to make a sound.
The bar was fully stocked, red, white, aged blends from the far coasts. I didn’t know what he preferred, so I chose the strongest one I could recognize and poured it into the nearest ss.
When I turned around, he was already watching me.
I crossed the room and held it out.
He took it without a word but didn’t drink right away He just let the rim of the ss hover
near his mouth as he looked at me.
Like he was trying to decide what to do next.
Slowly, I met his gaze.
“You’re not shaking,” he finally said.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust my voice.
Then his eyes drifted downward.
“Remove your clothes.”
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