Chapter 50

Cassian’s pov

I wanted her to speak. I wanted her to yell, to scold, to roll her eyes and say I was impossible.

But she didn’t.

And that silence was louder than any storm I’d ever survived.

My fingers brushed the key’s cold edge. I should’ve stayed in my room. Should’ve let it go. Should’ve waited for her to come to me.

But I couldn’t.

The ache in my chest wasn’t the kind that time healed. It was the kind that demanded answers. 

Or maybe

just maybe….a repeat of what I still couldn’t get out of my head: the feel of her lips on mine, soft and fiery all at once. The way she melted into the kiss like it was the only thing anchoring her to this world.

She didn’t speak.

She handed the key to a maid.

She closed her door.

And now?

Now I was pacing my own room like a goddamn lunatic, my wolf restless beneath my skin, every step fueled by the memory of her lips on mine.

She’d kissed me back.

Gods, she’d kissed me like she meant it.

Her hands in my hair, her breath tangled with mine, the way she arched into me like the world would end if we pulled away. It wasn’t one-sided. It wasn’t some polite reaction. That kiss had scorched the space between us, burned down the walls we’d been pretending to hide behind.

So why was she quiet now?

I dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling sharp. My room felt too tight. The air stale. My heartbeat louder than it should’ve been.

I looked at the key again.

I should leave it. Walk away. Respect the boundary she’d placed by not inviting me in herself.

But I couldn’t.

Not when I still felt her lips on mine. Not when every part of me was screaming that I needed more than silence.

I picked up the key.

For a long time, I just stared at it—like it would give me the answer. Like maybe the metal would grow warm in my hand and whisper the truth she wouldn’t give me out loud.

It didn’t.

I couldn’t breathe without knowing if it had meant something to her.

I left the key and went to her room.

Despite’s how quiet the palace seemed

With only the sounds of crickets.

All I could think of was her.

Selena. Sitting in front of her dresser, probably brushing her hair like she always did when she needed to calm down. Or pacing, like me. Or staring out the window wondering if she’d made a mistake.

What if she regretted it?

The thought stopped me mid-step. I leaned against the nearest wall, head falling back.

What if she wished she hadn’t kissed me?

The idea cut deeper than I expected. Deeper than I wanted to admit. Because I didn’t just want her to kiss me. I wanted her to want to kiss me.

I wanted her to want me.

Not because of a contract. Not because of the palace. Not because of Sisi.

But because of me.

Because I was Cassian. Her mate. Her alpha.

I pushed away from the wall and kept walking.

When I reached her door, I hesitated.

What was I even going to say? “Do you regret it?”

No. That sounded pathetic. Desperate. Weak.

But wasn’t that what I was now? Desperate?

I knocked.

No answer.

I turned the handle.

It wasn’t locked.

My wolf stirred.

I stepped inside.

**

The room was warm

She saw me in the mirror.

But she didn’t turn.

Didn’t flinch.

She just… paused for a second. Then resumed brushing her hair as if I wasn’t standing behind her, every inch of me screaming to close the distance.

I shut the door quietly behind me.

But she didn’t even turn. She was sitting in front of her dresser, robe loosely knotted at her waist, her damp hair falling like red ink over one shoulder as she ran a brush through it in steady strokes.

I stood there for a moment, taking her in. The calm in her face. The precision of her movements. 

I could feel it…

The storm that was growing under her skin.

“Do you regret it?” I asked, my voice lower now. “Because I don’t. Not for a second.”

She still didn’t speak.

And something inside me snapped.

“I’m not going to stand here and wait for an answer you don’t want to give,” I demanded, walking closer, slow and steady. “But you don’t get to pretend it didn’t happen. You don’t get to walk around like my hands weren’t on your waist, like you didn’t moan into my mouth.”

She stiffened.

I was behind her now. Close enough to smell the lavender oil in her hair.

“Selena,” I said, my voice rough, “look at me.”

When she turned, she didn’t realize how close I was.

Her face collided softly with my chest, and before she could pull back, I caught her.

My arms wrapped around her, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other pulling her waist flush against me. She gasped, but she didn’t push me away.

I didn’t wait.

I kissed her like I’d been drowning for days and her lips were the only air I knew. She didn’t hesitate this time

And it surprised me

It surprised me how  her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging, like she needed to anchor herself. Like she was afraid I’d disappear.

My hands found her waist, lifting her effortlessly as I walked her back toward the dresser. She barely noticed when I set her down on it

And her robe opened slightly  at the thigh.

Her legs wrapped around me like they’d done this before, like they remembered.

Her mouth parted against mine,

Her breathed came out in shallow  ragged gasps , 

gods  her lips were soft 

And then  I trailed kisses along her jaw, down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, the way her pulse leapt under my tongue.

Her hands were on my shirt….desperate and urgent. Buttons popped loose one by one, her fingers tugging hard. I let her pull at the fabric, let her mark me with every drag of her nails.

My hand slid along her thigh, gripping her firmly, and her breath caught when I kissed the hollow at the base of her throat.

“I want you,” I growled against her skin. “I need you.”

“Cassian…” she whispered against my lips, and gods, hearing her say my name like that….shaky and needful

And it was almost enough to undo me.

I kissed her harder.

Her robe slipped off her shoulder, and my mouth followed, trailing down the side of her neck, nipping lightly at her collarbone. She shuddered, her hands finally popping open the first few buttons of my shirt, exposing my chest to the cool air and her warm touch.

She ran her palms over me like she was memorizing every inch. My own hands cupped her hips, fingers pressing into her skin like she might disappear if I let go.

.

I reached her chest—kissed just above the swell of her breasts—and was about to tug the robe further down

And then—

“Miss Selena!” A shout. Muffled. Panicked. “It’s Sisi—she’s convulsing again!”

The door flew open.

Everything stopped.

Selena jerked away from me, eyes wide, robe hastily pulled tight. I turned, chest heaving, and saw one of the maids standing in the doorway, pale and frantic.

“Sisi,” Selena whispered, already sliding down from the dresser.

The heat, the hunger—all of it vanished in an instant.

I stood frozen.

Cold.

Numb.

“Wh-What?” she choked out.

The maid’s face was red, frantic. “Sisi! She’s shaking—her lips are turning blue. Please, come now!”

“Take us to her,” I ordered . grabbing my discarded shirt.

Selena didn’t even wait.

She pushed off the dresser and ran barefoot out of the room

She was already gone.

I followed

And as I followed her down the hall, heart pounding for an entirely different reason now, one truth burned through the haze of everything we hadn’t said:

I was already in too deep.

Heart in my throat.

Every breath burning.

The taste of her still on my lips.

But all I could hear now was the echo of panic.

Sisi.