ATASHA’S POV
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<b>80 </b>
55 vouchers
“Why do I have toe?” I asked, my voice tight with disbelief. Cassian had just told me he was going back to the pack, and he was taking me with him. Just the two of us.
I saw his eyes shift slightly, unreadable as always, so I quickly added, “I mean… we’ve already left the borders. Even if I wanted toe, it would be hard for me to run back undetected. I…I don’t have a wolf. I’d be exhausted before we even got close…”
Cassian didn’t blink. “Isn’t that the point? To find out if the map you gave me is the real one?”
My eyes widened as the truth settled in. Of course. That was what this was really about.
He didn’t trust me and why would he? From his perspective, I could’ve handed him a forgery, a decoy meant to lead him straight into a trap. If the map turned out to be false, it wouldn’t just be a mistake–it would be proof of betrayal.
Bringing me along wasn’t a gesture of partnership. It was insurance. If the map was fake, I’d be the one to pay the price.
However… We were camped for the night, about two hours from the border. The forest surrounded us, thick, damp, and restless. Rain had started to fall again, pattering against the canvas of the carriages and soaking into the mossy ground.
I stared at the muddy road outside, then back at him. I didn’t mind apanying him, but I still couldn’t understand something. “In this weather? We’re going back now?” And how was I supposed to run with him? I am physically weaker.
But he looked perfectly calm, as if the rain and cold didn’t touch him. As if we weren’t in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a thousand ways to die. Slowly, I understood. Maybe he didn’t want to tell me some of his secrets? Then again, to him, I was still a stranger. A potential traitor with a fake smile and a stolen map.
Then, his voice cut through the sound of rain. “We’re not far from the area where the Demon Fangs attacked.”
That made my breath hitch.
“If they’re smart, they’ll attack again tonight. An ambush.”
My chest tightened. “What?”
Cassian gave a half–shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Traveling makes soldiers tired. Exhausted men make easy targets. And we’ve been traveling for almost a day
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now. That’s what they’re hoping for. That’s why we need to move. Now. In the middle of the
chaos.”
Before I could form a response, he was already stepping out of the carriage, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. The door creaked behind him. Then it stopped.
He was waiting.
Outside, in the rain.
Holding out a hand.
I stared at it. Then at the soldiers nearby. Of course they all knew who I was. I wore a deep cloak that shielded most of my features, but it didn’t matter. Everyone around the carriage had seen me. Cassian’s new bride. His fifth.
I recognized some of them. Rio, for one, and a few of the lieutenants I had helped treat. Their gazes flicked in my direction, unreadable.
Cassian didn’t say anything, just kept his hand extended.
I stepped out and took it.
He didn’t lead me far. Just away from the carriages and down a slope where the guards thinned out and torches burned less frequently. The trees grew closer here, and the shadows
thicker.
“Do the others know?” I asked quietly, my voice barely above the sound of the rain.
“That we’re expecting an attack?” he replied, still holding my hand. “Yes.”
We kept walking.
To anyone watching, we must’ve looked like lovers taking a stroll through the woods. The thought made me flinch but also, strangely, made my cheeks grow warm.
“They’re not afraid?” I asked again.
Cassian didn’t stop walking. “Fear is natural. But they’re prepared. That’s the difference.”
“But the Demon Fangs… they don’t care if they live or die. They don’t have families to protect, no sense of loyalty, no real purpose beyond destruction. They fight like death means nothing to them… like they wee it. And that makes them dangerous. They’re strong. Maybe not as strong as your people, but they don’t hesitate. They strike without fear, without restraint.” That’s what made them… frightening and almost unstoppable.
“You’re getting talkative,” he said suddenly, ncing at me with a faint tilt of his head.
I instantly shut my mouth.
But then, without warning, he pulled me toward him.
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55 vouchers
I stumbled, my body colliding with his chest. His cloak was damp and cold, but his arms were solid, steady.
My eyes flicked up, and I found his.
Storm–gray and sharp, narrowed slightly as he looked down at me.
“Are you scared of me?” he asked.
“I- “Was I? Of course, I was! Naturally, I didn’t want to be one of his dead brides! “Is there something else to be scared of?” I heard him chuckle in response.
“You are a terrible liar,” he suddenly said before adding. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone harm you,” he said.
My lips parted, but no words came out.
Before I could even react, he bent slightly and lifted me.
One arm hooked under my knees, the other around my back.
Like I weighed nothing.
Like I was something worth carrying.
“Wha–what are you doing?” I stammered, startled.
He didn’t answer. He just started walking through the rain, carrying me through the forest like this was the most logical thing in the world.
Cassian didn’t say a word as he carried me through the downpour. Then… without warning, he started running. Fast.
The trees blurred past us, shadows streaking across my vision before I closed my eyes shut. Rain pped against my cloak and stung my skin, but none of it touched me directly. Not with him holding me the way he did. His grip was firm but not rough. Surprisingly steady.
I expected the cold of the storm to seep through his clothes, but his body was warm. Solid. Like a wall of heat in the middle of winter. The rhythm of his stride didn’t jolt me the way I thought it would. Each movement was smooth, efficient, like he had done this before, carried someone like this before.
Except, I doubted he had.
O
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I wasn’t supposed to enjoy it. But… part of me did.
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Wrapped in his arms, moving through the darkness with only the sound of rain and his heartbeat in my car, I felt… strange. Not safe exactly, but not in danger either. Like I was being watched over. Shielded.
We ran for what felt like forever. Through thick woods, over uneven terrain, past thest flickers of torchlight from the camp.
Then, slowly he began to slow down.
His boots crunched softly against wet gravel as he came to a full stop.
He lowered me gently back to the ground, setting me on my feet with surprising care. I adjusted my cloak and looked around, brushing wet hair away from my
face.
We were standing on the edge of something vast.
Behind us, the forest loomed dense, wild, untamed. But ahead…
Was <i>a </i>familiar cliff.
And just beyond it, I saw the rivers. The Rions Rivers.
Stretching wide and dark, they twisted like veins across thend, fed by the mountains. They ran through multiple territories, even branching all the way to the capital itself. But this one, this particr river below us, cut straight through the borders of our pack.
My breath caught in my throat.
We were back.
This was the edge of the border.
The realization struck like a p.
I stiffened, every muscle locking tight. My eyes scanned the trees for any signs of movement, guards, scouts, patrols. Nothing yet. But they could be near. I was standing on the edge of the very ce I had escaped not long ago.
Cassian said nothing at first.
I wanted to ask him what we were doing here, why we hade all this way. But I kept my
mouth shut.
Instead, I watched him as he stepped toward the cliff’s edge, gaze fixed on thend beyond.
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“This is where the map leads,” he said finally. His voice was low but clear, steady despite the wind and rain. “Right here.”
Before Cassian could say another word, a strange sound cut through the stillness. A low hiss. Soft at first, almost like the whisper of wind through wet leaves, but then it grew sharper, heavier. My nose wrinkled.
The smell hit a momentter.
Rot. Pungent, thick, and definitely unnatural. Like something dead had been festering underground for days and was now seeping into the air.
Before I could react, he was already moving.
He pulled me close, tight against his chest, one arm locking around my waist while the other reached behind him. I didn’t see what he grabbed, but within seconds, he’d thrown the edge of his cloak around us, shielding both our faces. My hands clung to the front of his shirt as I pressed against him, eyes wide.
“Poison,” he hissed.
AD