Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 4

“Sister… you don’t look well. Are you alright?”

:

Celeste’s voice slid into the room like warm honey. But I heard the blade behind it now.

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I stiffened. My eyes lifted to her face, the same face that once lit up my childhood like a lantern in the dark. She looked perfect, as always. Glossy black hair cascading over her shoulders, warm brown eyes filled with what appeared to be concern. She looked like safety. Like home.

But I knew better now.

“I didn’t sleep,” I said quietly, lowering my gaze. “I… I had a nightmare. About Lord Cassian.”

Her hand landed gently on my shoulder. “Shhh… walls have ears,” she whispered. “You’ve been under so much pressure. I understand. But you have to be careful not to say these things in the future, especially in the north.”

Pressure?

I bit the inside of my cheek. Pressure wasn’t the word. Pressure was what I’d felt the day I failed to awaken my wolf. This… this was something else. After last night, after standing outside that balcony and hearing my own mother hand Celeste a reward for betraying me, there wasn’t anything left inside me to press. I was hollow.

Cassian hadn’t said a word after it happened. He’d just dropped me off on my attic bed, soaked through from the storm, and vanished. Not a taunt. Not a threat. Not even a look. He just left. Somehow… that silence hurt less than Celeste’s smile did now.

Now, I followed Celeste down the corridor like I knew nothing. One foot in front of the other. Surprisingly, I only felt numb.

How could someone act so pure yet so evil at the same time? Perhaps I had been naive, so naive to think that a wolfless girl deserves some love.

“I’ve prepared a bath for you,” Celeste said, as if she were doing me a kindness. I nodded without answering, letting her lead me into the room.

The tub was full of milk and petals, lavender, rose, violet. They were my favorites, and Celeste knew. The water steamed softly in the candlelight. It looked like a bath meant for a queen. Or a bride.

I stripped in silence and stepped in. The warmth soaked into my skin, but it didn’t reach my bones.

Celeste sat beside me, humming, chatting about old memories I barely heard. Something about sneaking pies from the kitchens. How I used to curl up in her bed during thunder.

I remembered those nights. Her arms wrapped around me when the storms got too loud. The time she gave me her scarf after I scraped my knee. How she used to call me “little mouse” when I couldn’t sleep.

Back then, I thought those moments meant something.

Now… I wasn’t so sure.

11:01 Wed, Sep 10

Chapter 4

Lies. All of it. Or maybe not lies. Maybe half–truths twisted into weapons. How cruel.

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When we dried off, she took me to her dressing room. “Choose any dress,” she said, opening the wardrobe wide. “Tonight is your introduction. Lord Cassian will be coming to collect his bride.”

Collect his bride. A night ago that would have made me feel a little something, frightened maybe. But now? I felt nothing. Not after what I heard last night.

She pulled out a gown without waiting for my answer. Burgundy. Deep as blood. It would make me look pale, drained. Spectral. The perfect sacrifice.

“This one,” she said with a soft smile. “It’ll bring out the blue in your eyes.”

I nodded again. Wordless. As always.

Then I started to wonder. When did I become this quiet?

I used to laugh. I used to ask questions. I used to dream.

Maybe it was the years of bullying. The mockery. The days I was told to eat by the kitchen door because I didn’t have a wolf. Maybe it was my father’s silence. My mother’s cold voice. Or maybe it was Celeste–my sun–slowly fading into shadow.

Bit by bit, I disappeared. The sunshine in my eyes dulled. The smile on my lips faded. I became what they needed me to be. Obedient and small.

Easy to use. Easy to throw away.

Celeste clapped her hands, and her personal maid entered without a word. “Fix her hair. It needs to be perfect.”

The girl worked quickly, tugging and twisting, weaving in baby’s breath, pale roses, and silver ribbon. I let them dress me up like a doll.

Celeste reached for my hands, brushing her thumbs against my knuckles. “Promise me you won’t forget to write,” she said softly. “I want to know you’re safe… that you’re warm… that you’re okay.”

I stared at her.

“I heard it’s freezing in the north,” she continued. “So I packed more than just coats. The thick fur–lined one Father used to wear, two of Mother’s cloaks, I even tucked in the quilt from the attic, the one you used to steal from my bed.”

My breath caught.

“I packed you some wool socks. The mittens with the velvet lining. An extra blanket or two, just in case the castle’s drafty.”

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