Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 42

ATASHA’S POV

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I woke to the sound of soft wheels rolling over uneven ground, the faint creak of wood, and the gentle sway of a moving carriage. For a few seconds, I wasn’t sure where I was. Then the warmth of the thick blanket around me, the faint scent of herbs and clean linen, and the muted light seeping through the heavy curtains reminded me, I was no longer in the war tent.

I blinked and slowly sat up.

Strangely enough, my body didn’t hurt. Not even a little. No stiffness in my neck. No soreness in my back. Honestly, I expected some discomfort after spending the night sleeping in someone’s lap, especially someone built like a wall of muscle and bone. But to my surprise, I felt fine. Rested, even.

I took a slow breath and looked around.

It was the same large northern carriage from before. Spacious, reinforced with iron fittings, lined with soft furs and thick cushioning. One that could double as a mobile command room if necessary. I hadn’t remembered getting in. Cassian must’ve moved me while I slept.

I turned and immediately froze.

Cassian was sitting on the bench opposite me, eyes closed, arms folded, back straight, head tilted slightly against the side panel. He looked perfectly still, almost like he hadn’t moved all night.

But he was asleep.

That, in itself, felt strange. I had never seen him asleep before. I didn’t even think he was capable of sleeping in public. Yet here he was, his breathing even, his face finally free from that constant tension and sharpness he always wore like armor.

He looked… different.

Younger, somehow. Less like the ruthless warlord I’d watched cut down Demon Fangs, and more like a man. Maybe even the man he used to be before everything hardened him. I remembered someone had said he was nearing thirty. That tracked. He had married his fourth wife when he was twenty–six. That was several years ago.

I studied his face quietly. Without the frown creasing his forehead or the sharp glint in his eyes, he almost looked gentle. Not soft, exactly–nothing about Cassian could ever be soft- but more… human.

My eyes drifted to his clothes next.

Chapter 42

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He had changed. The bandages were gone, replaced by a clean, high–collared shirt under a dark travel cloak. There were still faint shadows under his eyes, but nothing too worrying. Not the kind of exhaustion that signaled injury. He looked like someone who had stayed up too long and finally gave in.

Then it hit me.

Wait.

I looked down at myself.

I was wearing clean clothes, too.

My cloak was gone. In its place was a fresh tunic, warm but light, with a sash tied neatly at the waist. It wasn’t something I remembered putting on.

My eyes widened slightly.

Who changed me?

My heart jumped.

Did he change me?

I stared down at my chest, then patted it instinctively, more out of shock than anything else. The tunic wasn’t tight, but it fit well enough that I knew someone had taken the time to dress me properly.

I swallowed hard, suddenly unsure how I felt about it.

Then again… he had seen me naked before. Not that it made this any less awkward. But at this point, modesty was a lost cause, wasn’t it?

My gaze shifted back to him.

And that was when I noticed his eyes were open.

He was watching me quietly.

I jumped slightly, my spine straightening in alarm. “Oh! You’re awake-”

Then I froze mid–sentence. My voice had come out too cheery, like I’d just greeted a neighbor instead of the man I was just mentally accusing of undressing me.

Cassian didn’t say anything.

He just looked at me, unreadable as always, like he had been awake far longer than I’d

11:13 Wed, Sep 10

Chapter 42

realized.

I forced a smile.

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