Cassa's POV
I flipped the paper over—and my heart skipped a beat. There, drawn in black ink, was the symbol of my necklace. My thumb traced the familiar pendant. This isn’t from Aviona.
I jumped up from the bench, rushing toward the back door. The maid—where is she? She saw the woman who gave her this! What did the woman look like?
I spotted the maid cleaning a window in the waiting room, her back to me. I hurried closer.
“Can you tell me if you know the woman who gave you this letter?” I asked. She startled, almost throwing the cloth at me.
Julius POV“Nothing,” I said, my voice stern, eyes locked on the road.“Nothing? You look like someone punched you with how annoyed you look. Is something bothering you?” Her voice softened, concern lacing her words. She placed the camera on her lap and leaned closer, whispering, “Pack problem?”“Nothing,” I repeated, trying to steady my tone, keep it calm.“Nothing… okay,” she muttered, leaning back against the seat.The silence between us thickened, but every glance at her enthusiasm only deepened my scowl. We were getting near the plaza when I made my
Julius’ POVI froze, staring skeptically at her as her words reverberated in my mind.I am curious what you look like in wolf form. May you show me, please?Her voice was pleading, and she was sitting right next to me in the car. I had accompanied her to the city to buy that camera, and she’d agreed through my persuasion. I kept my eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel. We’d been traveling back to town for about half an hour now—only trees and the sides of the road in my view.“I am serious and curious,” she added, clutching her new camera like it was a treasure. Then she raised it, capturing something outside, testing it.
Cassa’s POV“Why 20, Papa?” I couldn’t help asking.“I don’t know, Cass. Your mother didn’t say. But you know her—she was full of surprises.” Papa smiled, and for once it wasn’t pained—just sad.“You’re right, Papa. Mama was.” Always the past. Never my mother in the present.I opened the box, using the cutter to slice through the tape. Papa left me alone then—he had a call he needed to take.When I lifted the lid, I found a photo album. Your 20’s collection of pictures you have taken, Cassa, my daughter. Love, Mama.
Cassa's POVI followed the trail of blood, leading me to the window where there was even more of it. I sucked in my breath, wonder and uneasiness twisting inside me as I stared down at the edge of the window, noticing how clean it looked.“What are you doing here?”My heart skipped a beat at the sound of Papa’s deep voice behind me. What unsettled me more was the question of how I hadn’t heard him come in.I turned around, and there he was, standing in the doorway. His brows were pulled together, those intense deep brown eyes fixed on me.“Papa! What happened here? Why is there blood?&rdquo
Cassa's POVThen, his arm tightened around me, resting at my back, pulling me close. My eyes flew open and I tilted my head up, meeting his gaze—he was watching me like he was still lost in some trance.“Morning,” he said with a smile that sent my heart into a frenzy, drawing a soft smile to my lips too.“Morning to you too,” I muttered, my cheeks burning as I tried to scoot away—but he pulled me back, one leg wrapping around my waist. I gasped when he kissed me again. My lips responded on their own, tasting him, like something addictive, something I couldn’t resist.He muddled my mind all over again, melting me under his touch, until at la
Cassa's POVI bit my lower lip, staring at the door, my heart pounding in my rib cage like a wild animal trying to break free. My breath came hard, shallow, as the thought hit me again—tonight is the marking. My hands were clammy as I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady myself. This morning, I’d asked him to do it tonight, like I was proposing some business deal that needed closing.He hadn’t been pleased with my rush, I knew that. But telling him the truth? That didn’t feel like an option. What good would it do? I had to try—if it worked, then the disappointment, if it came, could be dealt with later. Right now, I could only cling to the hope that this would work. That I wouldn’t have to live in this