Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

ATASHA’S POV

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How could a werewolf not have a scent? Even if I didn’t have a wolf, I was still an omega. I should’ve had a scent. Or perhaps, I had become so useless and weak that I couldn’t even have one? I had so many questions that needed an answer. But there was no use thinking about it now, not when I was already back at the mansion, waiting for the signal to sneak into my father’s study.

Cassian had called it “infiltrating,” a word that sounded strange to me. He used it so easily, like it was something normal. He said it would be like spying, but much more dangerous. That alone made my stomach twist. Still, what choice did I have?

“This quilt, I actually made for Celeste,” Luna Genevieve said as she handed me a thick, finely stitched blanket. “But now that I think about it, she won’t really need this kind of fabric in the south.”

Since I returned to the mansion, neither she nor Celeste had let me out of their sight. Celeste placed the quilt on the edge of my bed, her voice soft and almost too sweet to be real. “I hope it keeps you warm in the North, Sister,” she said, tucking in a corner as if she were genuinely concerned for my comfort.

I didn’t respond. My mouth stayed shut, my hands folded politely in my lap. I was too nervous to speak, not because of the quilt, but because the sun had already set, and that meant the Demon Fang attack could happen any time now, just like Cassian said. Which also meant I had to leave this room soon and sneak into my father’s study. The thought alone made my throat feel dry.

And yet, Luna Genevieve and Celeste had hovered around me like crows pretending to be doves since the moment I returned. Something about their kindness felt hollow. Like they were waiting for me to slip. So instead of answering, I faked a cough, soft, weak, enough to pass for a recovering patient.

Earlier, Mendez handed me something that would make me look weak. He said even another doctor wouldn’t be able to tell it was fake. It only affected my appearance, making me look pale, but it didn’t change how I felt. I still had all my strength.

Almost immediately, Celeste reached for the porcelain cup on the nearby table and held it out to me with both hands. “Here, drink this,” she said gently. “It’ll help. Mother had the servants brew it just for you,”

I accepted the tea and drank it in one slow, steady sip.

It was bitter. Thicker than it should’ve been. Tasted wrong, but not unfamiliar. They’d been feeding me this since they got here, always insisting it would soothe my wounds, calm my

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Chapter 22

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nerves, help with my breathing. I knew from the first sip what it really was.

Poison.

And yet, I drank it.

Because poison didn’t work on me.

Still, I had to keep the act going.

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“I… I think Lord Cassian will be back soon,” I whispered, letting my voice tremble. “And I’m still a little scared.”

It was a lie, of course. Cassian had already told me what to expect, already laid the groundwork for this performance. But I needed them to believe that I was just a frightened girl, still fragile, still lost. Cassian had told me once that this would make things easier. That appearing weak would work in my favor.

“People overlook what they don’t see as a threat,” he’d said. “And the overlooked are always underestimated. That’s your greatest edge.”

And now, lying still in this bed, surrounded by enemies who thought I was already halfway to death… I finally understood what he meant.

Genevieve’s expression softened as she reached for my hand. Her touch was light, almost motherly. “You don’t have to be afraid of him,” she said soothingly. “I know the Lord. He won’t dare harm you.”

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