Booktok Cassian Novels & Stories

Ambrose remarked before sticking a cigarette into his mouth. Sharp as a tack, Cassian deftly picked up the lighter on the desk and lit the cigarette for Ambrose, which made him take note of Cassian's quick wit. He inhaled deeply before asking, "Have you read the historical novel, Triumph of the Three States, before, Cassian?" "I have." Cassian was a little perplexed. He wasn't sure why Ambrose had suddenly brought the book up. "In that case, who do you like more, Bowen Lavigne or Cenric Cassidy?" Ambrose followed up with another question, to which Cassian looked even more mystified.

He wanted to be the only hand reaching out in the dark. Elara felt as if she had stumbled upon a savior. To his eyes, the clueless little lamb had run straight to the Big Bad Wolf—exactly as he had orchestrated. “You called?” Cassian muttered. His voice was glacial, a stark contrast to the heat of satisfaction blooming in his chest at the sight of her standing so close.

“No. Absolutely not. Put a bullet in my skull instead.” Cassian is currently anchoring himself to the heavy oak doorframe of my quarters, his fingers clawing at the wood with white-knuckled desperation. He is an elite fifteen-year-old assassin bound to me by a blood contract, a kid who can slice a man’s carotid artery without blinking, but right now he is behaving like a bratty toddler being dragged to a dentist appointment. “We are going out,” I say, grabbing the back of his oversized denim jacket and pulling with everything I’ve got. “Move your ass.”

He's probably judging my ass or something but he can't speak so I don't quite care. 15 minutes later, I'm fully dressed and entering my room with a towel in hand, drying my hair. The hair I never keep down so when Max looks up from his phone and he sees my once light blonde hair looking more Dirty blonde, he smiles up at me and pats the sofa next to him. "You look beautiful, Cassi" "I-Thanks, I guess" "I bought you tea. Apparently you stopped drinking coffee?"

“Y-You can,” I whispered. Cassian whipped his head to look at me, eyes dark and hungry. “Are you trying to kill me?” He breathed out before closing his eyes and nuzzling my breasts. I smiled down at him fondly, my fingers threading his silky hair. Cassian reminded me of a gentle giant with his ministrations. “What? You don't want it now?” I teased, knowing damn well that was far from the truth.

Back late tonight. She was alone. Truly alone. "You’re late for our appointment," a voice drawled from the terrace doorway. Isla didn't flinch. She poured herself a cup of black coffee, the steam rising to hit her face before she turned. Cassian was leaning against the frame, he wore a black t-shirt that gripped his shoulders and showed the dark ink of the tattoos climbing his forearms. He looked like he hadn't slept a second. "I didn't realize I’d signed a contract with you, Cassian," she said, her voice steady and bored as she leaned back against the counter.

I stood with a chair in my hands and stared at the empty doorway until the present room returned around me—bright, noisy, occupied by a different man in a black cassock. By midday I was carrying a box of the new priest’s books toward the parish library. The cardboard edge dug into my palms. Dust and old paper rose when I shifted my grip. Inside the library the air was cooler, polished, familiar. I set the box down and began shelving. That was when I saw them: the same volumes Cassian had borrowed and returned in the early hours before he vanished, spines aligned with bureaucratic neatness. I knew those books, They were the same books Mr. Halden had told me Cassian returned in the early hours

Cassian is made of muscle and fierce determination. When he sets his sights on something, he makes sure he gets it and tonight it seems he’s mind has been made up to break down my walls. I know this for absolute certainty when he spreads my legs, holds them down with force, dips his mouth to my pussy, and licks from bottom to top through my panties while keeping his eyes firmly on mine. “Fuck," he rasps. "Tell me you want me." “I will never tell you that," I say breathlessly.

“It is no joke, Alaric. I am your childhood friend. I have seen you with Elara for years. I have never seen you look at any woman the way you look at Sophie.” “You are imagining things.” I said. I started walking back toward the main keep. Cassian followed me. “Am I? Then tell me about the ledger. Did you see it when I brought the bag?” “I didn't check the bag.” I said. “No, you did.” Cassian said. His voice dropping. “I know you. Even if I had found that book, I know you wouldn't want her to find it. Because if she finds that book, she finds her way home. And if she goes home, you lose your heart.”

It was the ultimate show watching him run out of the room cursing and screaming while naked, because "I can't believe anyone would fall asleep while a literal fucking king gave them his attention." Cassian smirked as he walked beside him with his damn war book in hand. He was reading 'Sun Tzu: The mechanisms of war' today, and for some reason, I had a feeling he had something up his sleeve. Might include another scholarship student who poured her smoothie all over his designer shoes after he asked a question, but he still wouldn't tell us about it. "I think we should leave this topic, before the video of you running out naked is released....again." He says, with his eyes perched on the page