Novel & Cerita Cassian And Nesta

Cassian was already waiting, his dark eyes gleaming as he sat in his chair, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, looking every bit the arrogant bastard he was. “You took your time, dolcezza,” he drawled, watching me with lazy amusement as I stepped closer. I forced my expression into one of indifference, moving toward the tray where his whiskey glass rested. “Had to make sure everything was prepared properly.” Cassian smirked. “How diligent of you, Reina.” I ignored him, focusing on the syringe in my hand. He extended his arm for me, completely unaware of what was about to happen. But as I leaned in, just as I positioned the needle against his skin, his hand shot out—gripping my ass in a rough,

"You are mine, Lydia. They can worship you, they can clean your skin, but you belong to me." Down in the pool, Cassian wiped the thermal water from his eyes, his heaving chest slick with sweat as he watched from the shallow step. Kian stood beside him, his long fingers resting flat against the marble ledge, his sharp face flushed as both men watched in tense, breathy shock at the sudden breakdown of restraint. Neither of them moved to step between us. They knew better than to cross a beast when its jaw was already locked. Zane didn't wait. He hooked his heavy hands beneath my thighs, hoisting my legs up to wrap tightly around his waist.

—Yes, sir. Bastien stood at the entrance waiting for Kate. As expected, she arrived with Lucca and Ara. She smiled and walked toward him, but Bastien stepped inside, leaving her frozen on the stairs. Kate followed him, and her heart stopped when she saw him flirting with another woman. He looked at her and winked, his hand around the woman’s waist. Her heart pounded violently. Her eyes couldn't be seeing this. She followed them, with Lucca and Ara a few steps behind. She saw them enter a room. Kate walked up, and from inside, she heard moans.

They couldn’t have been more wrong. Then the silence fractured—a knock at the door, sharp and deliberate, tension woven into every echo. The air seemed to tighten, vibrating with anticipation. Cassian strode in, all swagger and arrogance, his smirk a mask barely hiding the calculation in his eyes. He carried himself like he owned the world, but she could see the cracks beneath the surface. “Nyxara,” he began, his voice low and slick as oil, as if nothing had changed, as if he could charm his way past the grave.

Cassidy's POV The steam from the shower enveloped us like a secret veil, turning the massive marble bathroom into our own private steam room high above the bustling city. Dante's hand was firm in mine as he led me inside, the glass doors sliding shut behind us with a soft hiss that sealed us away from the world. Water cascaded from the rainfall showerhead, hot and insistent, mirroring the pulse still thrumming through my veins from our kitchen encounter. My legs were jelly, every step a reminder of how thoroughly he'd undone me—twice—before the day had even properly begun. But the ache was sweet, addictive, a badge of the passion we'd unleashed.

Nyra stared at him. “What?” “I remember drinking.” “I remember reading reports.” “I remember Virelle entering.” His face tightened. “After that…” He shook his head. “Nothing.” Nyra searched his face. “You expect me to believe that?” “I expect you to know me.” She looked away again. “I don’t know anyone anymore.” Silence returned and outside, rain began falling and the sound filled the room. Cassian reached into his pocket and he slowly placed the Moonfang necklace on the table beside her.

I wanted to believe him, but I kept seeing those men shattering the camera store door. "Sophia. Do you trust me?" Cassian's hand covered mine. Did I? This man who'd whipped me with his belt, who controlled when I ate and slept and came, who refused to kiss me but made me scream his name? "Yes, Sir," I whispered. "Then wear the black dress in your closet. We leave at nine." The entrance to Elysium was discreet. It was just an unmarked door in a building that looked pretty tame from the outside, but inside, it was pure decadence.

My young kid, who still requested me to check under his bed at night, was now the final barrier between survival and extinction. DAMIAN Cassian slipped in beneath the radar. He had not aged very well. Your eyes are fatigued. Lowering of the shoulders. But he carried himself as if he had finally chosen to complete the conflict he helped start. We met in a decrepit farmhouse on the French-Swiss border, close enough to Camille's control tower to strike but far enough away to watch her make mistakes. "She thinks she is already won," Cassian explained, laying out a plan.

“I’m sorry, Cynthia. That must’ve been…” “Painful,” she finishes, smiling faintly. “Yes. But she died with honor. I survived. She did what wolves do; she protected her own. I carry her courage even if I can’t hear her voice anymore.” I’m about to say something when the sound of footsteps echoes through the penthouse. Heavy. Familiar. My heart jumps before I even see him. Cassian. He walks in, looking like sin and salvation rolled into one. He’s dressed simply, in black pants and a white shirt that clings to every hard line of his body, and that predatory confidence that could melt steel. His frosty blue eyes find me instantly, and the world just… stops.

Then Aedan’s voice brushed over me, soft as a whisper meant only for me: “Nothing is forced, Nyra. Cassian is my friend. He would never harm you. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. But if you dare trust, even just a little… you might not regret it.” Trembling, I looked at the bowls, then at Cassian. My heart hammered, every part of me still resisting—but Aedan’s closeness held me steady. Cassian settled quietly on the far side of the fire. He didn’t move closer, only watched the flames. Minutes passed before he spoke, simple and peaceful: “The sky is beautiful tonight.” I didn’t answer. I clung to the fire, to the dance of its light. Time stretched long… until at last, with a shaking hand, I