Chapter 19: In His Arms, In His Gaze

Elara’s heart thudded in her chest as she found herself cradled in Cassian’s arms like something fragile and precious. Around them, time seemed to stall. Conversations halted, and even the sun pouring through the mall’s glass dome seemed to hold its breath.

She scrambled to steady herself, hands pressed to the expensive fabric of his chest. “I—I’m okay,” she stammered, her eyes darting to the bystanders whose curious gazes pinned her like spotlights.

Cassian slowly let her slide down to her feet, his hand lingering at the small of her back just long enough to ensure her balance. His touch was firm, yet careful.

Elara cleared her throat, a small, playful smile tugging at her lips. “That… was not exactly graceful.”

Cassian arched a brow. “You're alive. Grace is overrated.”

She gave a breathy laugh, brushing stray strands of hair from her face. The amused sparkle in his eyes faded instantly as he glanced around. “What are you doing here alone?” he asked, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous rumble. “Where’s Damian? And your… charming future mother-in-law?”

She scoffed playfully. "Why do you assume I came out with them?"

Cassian raised a brow as if to say,

'Didn't you?'

Elara tilted her head. “They left,” she shrugged simply.

She watched as Cassian’s jaw tightened, his brows drawing together in a sharp V. He looked like he was fighting the urge to explode right there in the atrium. The sheer coldness in his eyes told her that if Damian were standing there, he wouldn't be standing for long.

“They left you?” he asked, his voice laced with a quiet, lethal fury. “Again?”

“No,” she quickly added, her eyes dancing. “I chose not to go with them.”

Cassian blinked, momentarily stunned. “You… chose?”

“I’m allowed to make choices now, you know,” she said teasingly. He squinted at her, searching her face. The Elara he knew—the one the world had spent years breaking down—didn't speak up for herself, especially where Damian was concerned.

“Even if that choice is to get ice cream and maybe—fall into a man’s arms dramatically in public,” she added, breaking his line of thought.

That made him huff a rare laugh. “Dramatic entrances suit you.”

His gaze dipped then, trailing down her outfit. Elara followed the line of his eyes—she’d forgotten she was wearing shorts. Under Cassian's focused, burning gaze, she felt a sudden, electric spark of shyness, but she didn't look away.

He didn’t say a word. Instead, he shrugged off his blazer and, without asking, draped it over her shoulders. The heavy fabric fell nearly to her knees, smelling of him—clean, masculine, and sophisticated.

“What are you—?”

“It’s a bit cold in here,” he said calmly, though his eyes scanned the surrounding crowd with a look that made several gawkers suddenly find the floor very interesting. “And I’d rather keep the scenery to myself.”

Elara felt a thrill at the possessive edge in his voice. She pulled the lapels closer, the jacket feeling like a fortress. “I didn’t think you were the possessive type,” she teased.

“I’m not,” he replied coolly. “But I don’t like sharing what I like.”

Elara stilled. The words danced on a dangerous line, but she tried to maintain dominance. “Do you always say things like that to girls you save?”

“Only to girls wearing my shoes,” he said, eyes falling briefly to her feet. “Speaking of—which pair is this?”

She grinned and extended one foot in a graceful little kick. “The nude ones. With the tiny pearls? They matched my top earlier.”

Cassian nodded in approval. “Good choice. They fit you perfectly.”

“Look at you,” she said, leaning back and giving him a mock-serious gaze. “Complimenting my footwear. Are you always this particular?”

“I just have good taste,” he replied smoothly.

She tilted her head. “Hmm… Do you have someone then? A girlfriend? A fiancée? A shoe-shopping partner?”

Cassian didn’t miss a beat. “Would you be jealous if I did?”

She smirked, her heart racing. “I’d pity her. Poor girl’s probably dealing with a bossy perfectionist who throws jackets at people in public.”

He leaned a little closer, a small smile playing at his lips. “What if I only like throwing jackets at you?”

Elara’s breath caught. She just wanted to tease him; she didn't expect the distant Cassian Vale to play along so easily.

“Then I’d say…” she started slowly, looking away with a smile, “you’re very brave.”

The tension dissolved into a warm silence as Cassian guided her back to the ice cream parlor. He ignored his assistant and his bodyguards entirely. They watched in disbelief as the man who made CEOs tremble now carried a half-melted cup of ice cream for a girl wrapped in his jacket.

“What changed?” he asked softly, watching her.

“Excuse me?”

“What changed, Elara? You've always looked at me with caution…with hatred, even. You've been taught that I'm evil. Why have you been coming to me all on your own?”

Elara blinked at him before a genuine smile blossomed. “I guess I decided it's high time I stopped allowing myself to be controlled by others. I wanted to know who you really are, outside all the rumors.”

Although he didn't show it, Elara's words made warmth spread in his chest. He had dreamed of her looking at him without fear. He chuckled, hiding his joy beneath the surface. “What do you want to know, little bunny?”

Elara’s heart skipped at the nickname. She cleared her throat, trying to focus on her ice cream. “Everything. I want to count this as me being myself for once.”

“Is that why you're so happy?”

“Yes,” she admitted, licking her lips. “Maybe because I’m finally doing what I want.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his gaze dropping to the half-melted swirl in her cup. Without a word, he reached forward. His fingers brushed hers—a slow, lingering contact—as he plucked the silver spoon directly from her hand.

Elara watched, breathless, as he took a small, deliberate bite of the honey-lavender. He didn't look away from her for a single second.

“Hey!” she managed to whisper, her voice caught in her throat. “That’s mine.”

He hummed, a low sound of approval as he tasted the sweetness. “It’s better than I expected,” he said, his voice dropping to a velvety register. He didn't hand the spoon back immediately, holding it just out of reach as he studied her flushed face.

“You… you just used my spoon,” she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Cassian tilted his head, a dark, playful glint in his eyes as he held the spoon out to her. The metal was still warm from his touch. “Does that bother you, Elara?”

He didn't wait for an answer. He simply tucked the spoon back into her cup and leaned back, his smirk softening into something that made her knees feel weaker than they had when she tripped.

She took a bite, the taste of the honey now mingled with the dizzying thought of him. It was an indirect kiss, plain and simple—and it sent a swarm of butterflies erupting in her chest, more powerful than anything she had ever felt before.