Chapter <b>17 </b>
<b>81 </b>
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“Lord Cassian please let me—” Genevieve’s voice faltered, her next words swallowed by the thick, metallic scent of blood that hit her the moment she stepped inside.
The sight froze her mid–step.
Atasha was lying not too far from the center of the tent, half–wrapped in a nket that looked more like it belonged on a battlefield than a bed. Her eyes were closed, her skin pale, but her chest rose and fell steadily. Her blond hair was damp with sweat, clinging <i>to </i>her forehead, and a faint flicker of warmth from a nearby brazier danced over her features. Alive. She’s alive!?
Celeste gasped softly beside her. “She’s… here?”
Genevieve’s gaze darted from the bloodied towels in the basin to the faint traces of crimson staining the edge of the nket near Atasha’s ribs. Something clenched in her stomach. Obviously, it was not grief, guilt or confusion. It was frustration. She should’ve been dead. She expected Atasha to die from that attack! How is she even here?
But before she could gather her next performance, a slow, unbothered voice cut through the tension. “You look disappointed, Luna,” Lord Cassian’s voice echoed.
“As you can see…“Lord Cassian didn’t rise. He was seated at a field table a few paces away, one leg crossed over the other, a porcin teacup in his hand as though they were gathered for a leisurely evening chat rather than in a war tent soaked in blood and smoke.
“My wife is resting. She’s alive. And well enough.” His steel–gray eyes lifted to meet Genevieve’s directly, though his tone remained polite. “I trust that satisfies your curiosity,
Luna.”
For a moment, no one moved. Then, Alpha Collin took a small, stiff step forward. He ced a fist to his chest and gave a shallow bow.
“Thank you, my Lord,” he said. “For protecting her. Seeing her like this… is enough to satisfy my wife’s curiosity.”
Cassian ced the teacup down with a soft clink, folding his hands on the table. “It is this lord’s duty,” he replied coolly. “She is my consort. My responsibility.”
Then the tone shifted. “Although… what this lord does not understand,” he continued, voice still smooth but sharper now. “Is why the Luna would insist on barging into this tent when his lieutenant had already informed her that the consort was resting.
His eyes narrowed just slightly. “Does the Luna not trust this lord’s word?” he asked.“Or perhaps, she does not trust this lord’s men either?”
<b>81 </b>
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Genevieve’s throat dried. Again, her gaze drifted towards the pale Atasha. She tried to understand how was she able to live after that attack! Then it hit her! Someone must be protecting Atasha!
When Cassian left, she instructed all guards to leave that part of the mansion as well. But what if someone, one of Cassian’s people, stayed? Yes, that must be it. That was the only exnation she could think of.
Cassian leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table. His next words dropped like stones into water. “And if the Luna does not trust this lord…”
Genevieve immediately looked at Cassian. She clenched her teeth and listened <i>to </i>Cassian’s next words. This man is twisting everything! He’s clearly using this incident to his advantage. It seems that she had underestimated him!
“Then what, precisely, is stopping this lord from riding out tonight and taking his soldiers with him?” Cassian said.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Genevieve opened her mouth to answer, but the moment she did, she felt it. A wave of pressure, cold, crushing, and violent, flooded the space like an invisible storm.
Killing intent.
It rolled off Cassian in thick, suffocating waves, so potent it made the me in thenterns stutter. The ground itself seemed to pulse beneath their feet. Genevieve took an involuntary step back, her hands trembling despite herself.
Celeste staggered, her knees nearly buckling as she gasped. Alpha Collin, sensing it first, acted on instinct.
He stepped in front of his wife and daughter, shielding them with his body. “Lord Cassian-” he started, but the full brunt of the pressure hit him like a battering ram. “My Lord!”
Blood spurted from his mouth.
He staggered, knees giving way, and copsed to one side with a grunt, clutching his chest. His eyes wide with shock, pain shing through them. “Damn it-”
“Alpha!” Celeste cried, dropping beside him in panic. “Father!”
Genevieve didn’t move, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t.
Cassian had not stood. He hadn’t even raised his voice. And yet it felt as though the tent itself bowed to his will. “That,” he said coldly, gaze flicking down to Collin. “Is what happens when you insult this lord in his own camp.”
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<b>81 </b>
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He stood atst, like a de being drawn from its sheath. His presence filled the room. “I don’t care for theatrics, Luna,” he said as he descended the few steps toward them. “This isn’t a southern parlor where your tears dictate decisions. This is war. And I don’t tolerate maniption while my soldiers bleed outside this tent.”
Genevieve straightened slowly, every inch of her spine locked tight withposure, even as her heart pounded in her chest. “I was only worried for my daughter’s safety.”
Cassian’s smirk was cold. “Your worry is duly noted. Now take it elsewhere before I decide to bury it with the rest of tonight’s dead.”
“My–My Lord-” Celeste stepped forward, her voice shaking but still audible. She moved to shield her father. “I know you hate being disrespected, but please… please understand. We only wanted to see my sister. Atasha–Atasha is-”
“Princess,” Cassian cut in, his voice sharp enough to slice flesh.
Celeste blinked, her wide eyes almost looked too innocent. “P–Pardon?”
His eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, the room seemed to darken around him. “The girl you dare call Atasha,” he said. “Is my princess consort. Mine.”
He stepped closer. Celeste instinctively backed up.
“And yet here you are, tossing her name around like it belongs to you,” he continued, his tone dipped in disdain. “Tell me, little girl, is it arrogance… or stupidity that makes you forget your ce?”
He tilted his head, mock curiosity glinting in his eyes. “Or perhaps you believe you stand above this lord’s authority? A pampered child from a dying pack has the right to speak so casually of royalty?”
Celeste’s lips trembled. “I… I meant no-”
“Silence<i>,</i>” he hissed. “Before I forget that you are still a guest in my camp, and not just another problem to be dealt with.”
He turned then, gaze sweeping over the three of them. “You came here seeking answers, so allow me to offer one. The next time any of you dares to question this lord again, you won’t be leaving upright.”
Cassian’s wicked smile returned. “And I promise you, no one will mourn you. As everyone who might care will die before you do.”
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