Cassian And Nesta Novels & Stories

Charlotte My back is pressed against the cool tiles in our shower and my mate, Cassian, stands before me with a primal look in his eyes. He brings his head down to my neck and lightly bites on my mark, causing me to release a breathy moan. I can feel him smirk against my skin, happy to be a part of my undoing. But his body tenses as the door to our room opens and then the door to our bathroom. Maddox, my other mate and Cassian’s twin brother, grumbles, “We need to talk.”

Cassian approached from the stairwell, two mugs in hand black coffee, no sugar, just heat. He handed her one without speaking. She accepted it with a small nod. They watched the city breathe beneath them. It didn’t feel like victory. It felt like quiet. Aria took a sip. “Did you ever think we’d get here?” Cassian sat beside her, his knee touching hers. “I didn’t think we were allowed to.” She glanced sideways. “And now?” He looked out over the sprawl of fractured glass and rebuilding scaffolds, the lights blinking in uncertain cadence.

Cassian helps me over— And then a shot. He stiffens. Blood. He falls to his knees. "Cassian!" He looks at me, still smiling even as blood leaks from his side. "Get him safe." "No—" "Go!" I grab Liam. Kade pulls the throttle. The boat went far into the darkness. And as we vanish down the Venetian waterway— Cassian falls behind us. The last thing that I hear is Larsson's voice echoing across the ballroom:

“Whatever that girl is involved in, it is already turning into war elsewhere. Don’t step into it.” Cassian finally looked away from Kyrie for half a second, just long enough to acknowledge Renzo properly. “You always say that,” he said. “Because it is always true.” A pause settled between them, filled only by passing tires and rain hitting asphalt. Cassian looked back. She had slowed now. Not stopped. Slowed. Her hand lifted slightly as if she was considering whether her body would still obey her if she asked it to keep going. It didn’t look like surrender. It looked like negotiation with exhaustion.

Not even close. The gate was open. She stepped inside. The air was thick. She followed the stone path, her footsteps muffled. The door to the main building creaked as she pushed it. And then— Cassian was already there. Leaning against the far wall. No jacket. Just a fitted black shirt, dark jeans. He looked exhausted. And wired. “You came,” he said, voice low. “I did.” “You saw the video.” Anaïs didn’t answer. He pushed off the wall. “You’re wondering what I meant.”

Aurora tenses beside me, and Bishop grins wider, whistling in a specific tone to grab Cassian's attention who is still in an altercation with Caelum's wife about lord knows what. Cassian puts a pause to his argument with best friend's wife, causing her to storm off ahead. Cassian nods, his gaze instantly dragging to us. He looks at me and then Aurora, his lips stretching into a wider grin, one mischievous just like that of Bishop. Cassian practically leaps our way, standing in front of Aurora. “My dream girl,” he grins, going in for a hug which Aurora reciprocates easily. “Cassian.” I whine, annoyed by the way he invaded her space, having known her for four seconds.

My shoulders burn, and my arms cramp from being tied behind my back. A sound alerts me to the fact that I’m not alone. Searching my surroundings, all I see are white tiles and bright fluorescent lights, similar to a hospital room. My eyes quickly adjust at the sound of a body shifting nearby. Nevaeh is struggling in her restraints, a terrified expression on her face. Another sound resounds nearby. Eyes wide with fear, I observe as Lukan steps inside the room. He looks at Nevaeh’s struggling form with a hateful snicker, then focuses back on me. “Hello Cassia, good to see you. Did you like the little gift I sent to your loft? Poor Mathias, he’s ready to mate with you, and then his long-lost l

The question slipped out—too quiet, too desperate. Cassian’s eyes darkened. "You keep your door locked. I keep mine." He didn’t retreat. Didn’t stand. Just leaned closer, his voice a razor. "This isn’t a marriage. It’s a theater. And you?" He tapped the itinerary. "You’re the star of the show." I reached for the coffee cup—my hands still trembling—and froze. Beside the contract, Cassian had left something else. A single photograph. Selene. Not the golden-haired princess. Not the girl who fled to Monaco.

Because Aurora would never do something this stupid. Aurora was always one step ahead of him. "I'm pregnant with your child..." Camilla's voice trembled. "Why are you being so cruel to me?" "Get out." "What?" "I said, get out." Cassian closed his eyes. "I need to be alone." Camilla stared at him, stunned. "You're thinking about her, aren't you?" her voice shook. "That woman who left!" Cassian didn't answer. His silence was more brutal than any word.

It's like the air has become harder to breathe, It feels like I am choking on my own tongue and the room suddenly feels like a coffin. Downstairs, my father is the one who answers the door, while my mother scurries away to get the last small things ready for tonight's dinner. "Welcome, Father." Ferdinand speaks with a low voice, straining to seem calm while he shakes the other's hand. As Father Cassimir enters the house, his eyes look around. He takes notice of Nesta's coat and a pleased smirk curls on his lips. She made it home. She came home. Like the obedient woman she was supposed to be. Good. It meant she had no other place to hide. Nowhere to hide meant that she had no safe haven and s