“And here I was led to believe I’d be marrying your younger daughter, the one whose wolf has actually awakened,” Cassian said, his voice seeping through Father’s study like slow, suffocating smoke that demanded attention.
A chill crawled down my spine. Beside me, Celeste’s inhale hitched so softly I almost missed
- it. Celeste and I hovered outside Father’s study, backs pressed to the paneled wall, catching scraps of the conversation through the half–open door.
None of us dared to say a word, scared shitless that the Tyrant Lord would notice our
presence.
Inside, Father answered in a strained baritone I barely recognized, but I knew it sounded more caution than authority. I couldn’t make out the exact reply, only the brittle edge under it.
Cassian chuckled, a low, amused sound that seemed utterly out of place in our family wing. It sounded like a predator slipping unnoticed into a sanctuary meant for the innocent.
The silence that followed was louder than any thunderclap. Then Father’s alpha senses must have caught our scents as his next words rang out. “Atasha. Celeste. You may come in.”
My stomach tightened. Celeste straightened first, smoothing invisible creases in her gown, schooling her expression into gentle concern. I forced myself to mirror the composure, my pulse hammering against my ribs.
We stepped over the threshold together, the study’s heavy oak door swinging wider behind us. Cassian Valemont leaned against Father’s desk, gray eyes flicking from Celeste to me with sharp, measuring interest, like he was already deciding which lamb would season the stew best.
Father gestured us forward, jaw rigid. “Lord Valemont wishes to clarify a few details before tomorrow’s journey.” He looked at both of us, then he added, “Lord Valemont, this is Atasha Black, your bride and this is Lady Celeste Black, my daughter and future Luna of my pack.”
Cassian pushed away from Father’s desk and sauntered toward us. He gave us that half–lazy, half–predatory gait. He stopped a breath short of Celeste and angled his head, studying her as though she were a painting he might toss on the fire if the colors displeased him.
“Tell me little one… have you ever heard a bone break? Your own, I mean.”
Celeste swallowed. “I… n–no, my lord.”
“Mm. A shame.” He tilted his head, studying the unblemished line of her collarbone. “Unbroken things often forget how fragile they are. The first crack is always….educational.” His
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Chapter 5
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smile thinned. “I’ve been told it sounds like dry wood snapping in the frost. One day I’d like to judge the melody for myself.”
Father bristled, but Cassian merely shifted his attention back to me, as if the notion of testing that “melody” were nothing more than idle curiosity.
“Lord Valemont, you will not taunt my daughter in her own home.”
Cassian turned, amusement sparking. “Ah, Alpha Black, ever the courteous host. You did, however, dangle this daughter in front of me like fresh meat a week ago. Forgive me if I wish to inspect the cut before I pay.”
Color rose in Father’s cheeks. “You came for Atasha. The marriage contract is signed and on its way to the king.”
Cassian’s attention slid off Celeste and settled on me like an iron yoke. “Contracts are parchment. Wolves are blood.” He indicated the two chairs arranged side by side in front of Father’s desk. “Come, little bride, sit.”
I obeyed, my skirts whispering across the rug as I took the left chair. Cassian followed and claimed the seat on my right, close enough that our knees brushed when he angled toward me. Instead of reclining, he perched on the edge, hooking one arm along the back of my chair so his gloved fingertips grazed the nape of my neck. It almost felt casual, too casual.
“Only to those who miscalculate.” Cassian’s smile cut sideways. “Nightfall offered up one daughter, then tried to bargain with another. I’m merely evaluating the exchange rate.”
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