Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 85

Chapter 85

ATASHA’S POV

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“How are you so familiar with this cave?” I couldn’t help but ask once we finished eating.

He didn’t answer me. Instead, his hand suddenly closed around mine, and he pulled me toward the far end of the cavern. At first, I didn’t notice anything unusual, but then he stopped in front of what looked like an uneven pile of rock. When he moved aside a loose boulder, a narrow crevice revealed itself, hidden in the shadows.

Without hesitation, he stepped into it, still holding my hand.

The space was so tight that he had to turn sideways to fit. The walls pressed close against my shoulders, rough stone scraping the edges of my cloak as we shuffled through. The ground sloped slightly, and the air grew cooler the deeper we went. His grip never loosened, guiding me forward each time the passage narrowed.

I should have been nervous, but instead, a strange comfort settled over me. His hand, somehow made me feel… secure. I didn’t know how to explain it. Cute wasn’t a word I would normally use for Cassian, yet something about the simple act of him not letting go kept me calm.

After what felt like minutes of squeezing through stone and ducking under jagged edges, the tunnel began to widen. My shoulders had room again, and the ceiling lifted just enough to let me straighten fully.

Then we stepped into a new clearing.

This chamber was smaller than the last, the ceiling lower, but it held something I hadn’t expected. At the center was a pool of water, not perfectly round but close, its edges uneven like nature had carved it over years. The surface glowed with a bluish hue, reflecting a soft light that came from above. I tilted my head back and saw it—another fae stone embedded high in the rock, its light feeding the pool and making it shimmer.

The water wasn’t wide, maybe large enough for three people at most, but the color was mesmerizing. Blue so clear it almost looked like glass, shifting faintly as the light touched it.

I turned to him quickly, only to find his eyes already on me. His red gaze never wavered.

“Hot,” he said.

I blinked, frowning. I glanced back at the pool. There was no steam rising from it, no mist in the air. It looked cold, like any other mountain spring.

But his word told me otherwise. Then he spoke again. “Drink.”

I stared at him, confused. “I can drink it?” I asked.

This time, he gave a single nod.

It hit me then, we had been traveling without a real source of water. My throat felt dry just thinking about it. I didn’t waste time questioning him further. Even if the water carried poison, my body was built to neutralize it. That was one thing I didn’t fear.

I crouched by the edge of the pool and scooped some up with both hands. The water was not really hot but warm against my palms, glowing faintly from the light within. I brought it to my mouth and drank deeply.

Relief spread through me almost instantly. I hadn’t realized how dry my throat had become, how empty my body felt, until the water slid down and eased the ache. My shoulders relaxed as if the tension had been waiting for this exact moment to let go.

I immediately turned toward him. “There’s no poison. You should have some too,” I said, wiping the back of my wet hand across my mouth.

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