ATASHA’S POV
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<b>80 </b>
55 vouchers
“Why do you think there’s miasma in this area?” I whispered as we moved cautiously through the fog–covered path.
The air was thick and heavy with the stench of decay. It clung <i>to </i>everything, clothes, skin, even the inside of my mouth. But while it made my stomach churn, it didn’t harm me. I was immune to poison. Whatever was swirling through the air, this toxin, this miasma, it didn’t affect me the way it would others.
Cassian, however, wasn’t immune.
But he was prepared.
He had a cloth covering his nose and mouth, soaked in something bitter and sharp–smelling, but even that wouldn’t be enough to block out all the toxins in the air.
That’s why he had me.
We walked side by side, fingers intertwined, our hands locked tightly together. Every time the poison began to creep into his system, subtle, but fast, I felt it. I could sense the shift in his body, the faint pull on my ability.
And I responded.
Silently, constantly, I channeled my healing into him. Just enough to flush the poison from his blood, to keep his breath steady and his steps strong. Neither of us spoke about it. We didn’t need to.
We just kept walking, hand in hand, through the poisoned mist.
“Your father knew that someone stole the map, naturally, he had to add some… precautions.”
I said nothing in response. Yes. That was indeed the type of person my father was. “Do you think he knew about William and my mother?” I already reported this matter when I handed Cassian the map. At that time, he didn’t look interested at all.
“I wouldn’t know that,” he said.
I immediately shut my mouth. Was I being too talkative? I had never been someone that talked much, especially after I failed to awaken. The… was I nervous? Yes. That was it. Then again, this would be the first time that I would do something like this.
“This poison could harm even my strongest Lieutenants,” Cassian suddenly said. “It’s meant to
kill the strong.”
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I nodded. However, how could my father have ess to something like this?
<b>80 </b>
55 vouchers
“Poisons like this can only be found in the West,” he said. That made me frown. The wWestis considered thend of savages. Both witches and other supernatural beings upy that area. I didn’t have the time to say another word as he stopped walking. “We’re here.”
Before us stood a massive boulder, half–covered in moss and slick from the rain. It looked solid, ancient–impossible to move. But Cassian didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, retrieved the map from inside his cloak, and unfolded it under the light of a glowing stone he pulled from his pouch. He held it close to the rock’s surface, his eyes scanning quickly for alignment.
A few seconds passed. Then he pressed his hand against a specific groove etched into the boulder.
There was a low rumble.
I took a cautious step back as the center of the stone began to shift, smoothly, silently. A section of the boulder twisted inward like a gear, revealing narrow steps carved from the inside.
Cassian folded the map again. “Come on,” he said.
We descended quickly. The moment both our feet touched thest step, the boulder slid shut behind us with a deep click. I turned back and stared at the seamless wall. No cracks. No handles. Nothing <i>to </i>suggest the opening was ever there.
We were inside a cave.
It wasn’t wide, just enough for two, maybe three, people to walk side by side. The air inside was cooler, stale but breathable. The stone walls had no carvings or torches, but the dim blue glow from Cassian’s lightstone gave us just enough to see by. Luckily, the miasma was only outside.
Cassian raised two fingers to his lips and signaled me to stay quiet.
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
Oddly enough, I found it amusing. Cassian telling me to shut up, when I barely spoke as it was. He gave a faint smirk, then kept moving forward.
We walked in silence, our footsteps muffled by the worn stone path. It was clear Cassian knew where he was going. He didn’t pause to check the map again. He moved like he had already memorized every turn.
I followed close behind, eyes darting to every curve of the tunnel, ears straining for sounds.
Then it happened.
80
55 vouchers
Cassian stopped for half a second, body tense. He rushed forward so fast it startled me.
Before I could ask what was happening, there was a sharp crack.
A body hit the ground just ahead with a dull thud.
My breath caught.
Cassian knelt beside the limp figure, hands already dragging it to the side. The guard’s neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. I stared in silence, my heart thudding in my chest.
I hadn’t sensed the man’s presence at all, no sound of footsteps, no shift in the air, not even the subtle rhythm of breath that usually gave someone away. It was as if he had appeared from thin air, and yet Cassian had detected him instantly.
He took the guard down with frightening ease, as if it were something he’d done a thousand times before. There had been no hesitation in his movement, no pause to assess or consider, just swift, precise action that ended in silence.
He hadn’t bothered to knock the man unconscious or give him a chance to surrender. He had killed him, cleanly, efficiently, without emotion.
A cold shiver ran down my spine as I stood there, realizing just how little I understood the man walking beside me.
It wasn’t pitch ck in the tunnel, dim, yes, but any werewolf should be able to navigate it with ease. I could see well enough, but my eyes weren’t as sharp as theirs. If Cassian hadn’t been here…
<i>We </i>continued deeper.
The path narrowed slightly, and the air grew colder. Then Cassian stopped again.
Another guard.
Same pattern.
He moved without a sound, slipped behind the man, and–snap–down he went.
Cassian didn’t even flinch. Just dragged the body aside like it was nothing. His hand brushed the blood off on his cloak as we passed.
I kept my mouth shut.
I had no illusions about what he was. But watching it happen, quiet, calcted, brutal, it was
<b>11:09 </b>Wed, Sep 10
different from the stories. And far more real.
:
<b>80 </b>
55 vouchers
We walked in silence for what felt like an eternity. The tunnel sloped down now, and I could hear faint echoes, water, maybe, or something moving deep below.
Then, suddenly, Cassian stopped.
Cassian turned to face me and raised one hand, his fingers forming a clear gesture for me to stay where I was. His eyes locked withmine,e leaving no room for argument. I gave a silent nod in response, understanding the unspoken warning.
Without another word, he slipped ahead alone, his footsteps soundless against the stone floor. I remained where I stood, holding my breath as the air around me thickened with tension. My heart pounded against my ribs, each beat loud in the silence of the cave.
Then, just beyond the bend, the quiet was shattered by a series of sharp, unmistakable sounds, scuffling footsteps, a brief grunt of surprise, the sickening crack of bone, and finally, the heavy thud of a body mming against solid stone.
Then nothing.
Silence returned as if nothing had happened.
Momentster, Cassian emerged from the shadows, his movements asposed and efficient as before. There was no change in his breathing, no hint of urgency in his posture, only the same calm, lethal precision I was quickly growing used to. It was as if killing was just another task hepleted without thought or hesitation.
”
He didn’t speak. He simply reached out, took my hand in his, and began leading me forward
once more.
The path began to widen, and up ahead, a faint flicker of light reflected off the cave walls, subtle, but unmistakable. As we walked toward it, I realized we were nearing a clearing inside the cave. And that was when I smelled it.
Blood.
Sep