Cassian Andor Books Novels & Stories

Callix and Cassian had just returned from their journey to the rogue settlements, all routes leading to dead ends since Dregan’s secret journal had still not been decoded. “That bastard Derek is still not revealing his true lies; it's taking everything within me not to slit his throat each day he is in that cell,” Cassian snarled. “The Orions are a hard line to crack, I'll give them that, but I can’t help wondering if our cause is reaching a dead end,” Callix said. Cassian paused on his horse.

Cassian With our caravan well on its way through the Swamplands, we’ve passed the last hurdle for finally catching up with Assanan. This is good news, but I can’t help feeling every nerve on guard for any of Assanan’s tricks. He must be in the library by now, but whether he can find anything before we get there is another story. It sounds like an immense place with thousands of ancient books, from what Freyja has told me. The odds of getting to the right one quickly are slim.

All of us looked at the rattling door and Chace flinched away from the door and me with his hands rose up in the air. The man flew twenty feet away from us and basically glowed himself against the wall. Cassius stormed outside, his breath ragged and his eyes golden and wild. I walked towards him and slapped his heaving chest angrily. “Here is my run-away alpha.” He looked down at me with those glowing eyes, and my entire body buzzed with tension. I was scared, giddy, and aroused. A weird mix for this fucked up situation that I have found myself in.

Lucian noticed her trembling hand. Without a word, he reached for it. She looked up. “You saw it too?” He nodded. “Yes.” “Who was she?” “I don’t know.” “But she wanted us to see her.” ⸻ Cassian slowly reopened the Book. Every page was blank. Not a single image remained. He turned another page. Nothing. Another. Still nothing. Aurelius frowned. “That’s impossible.” Cassian’s voice was barely above a whisper. “The Book has never hidden its memories.”

“Color’s back in your cheeks.” I gave a half-smile. “Books always did that for me. Even before… everything.” He reached over and tucked a strand of my long black hair behind my ear. His fingers stayed there a second too long. “I’ll have more brought up if you want. Whatever you like.” Before I could answer, his phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, frowned at the screen. “Border report,” he muttered. “Cassian’s gone deep underground. But his loyalist pricks are poking at the edges again. Stirring shit near the borders.”

I only needed to deliver it to the Moon Council contact. The door opened without a knock. Cassian walked in wearing the formal coat from the ceremony. The collar sat crooked against his throat, and the scent of wine and burning pine resin followed him into the room. His gaze dropped to my case. “What scene are you staging now?” I closed the clasp on my medicine box and did not answer at once. Cassian stepped closer. Alpha pressure rolled through the room. The lock on my case snapped open, and clothes, papers, and small medicine jars spilled across the floor. A jar of burn salve rolled to the toe of his polished boot.

[ CASSANDRA ] After this statement of ANTOINE, I got angry. I then looked at him strangely and I said : -- Who are you to give me orders? I am not under your responsibility. You are not my family and I am not your prisoner. I'll go away and you won't be able to stop me. Afterwards, I wanted to slap him when Inès stopped me. -- ANTOINE and Cassandra please calm down. You're not going to fight because we're family now. (She says)

They did not need facts; the pictures were enough to set fire to every assumption they wanted to make. The door opened without a knock. Cassian leaned against the frame, hands in his pockets, hair slightly messy like he had been riding for hours. “Wow,” he said, scanning the room. “You look like you are about to kill someone.” “Give me a reason Cassian and I just might.” He raised a brow at me. “Rough morning?” I glared. “You haven’t checked your phone?” “Oh, I have. T*****r is having a complete meltdown.” He strolled inside, ignoring my irritation. “Apparently, you and Nolan had a midnight runaway adventure. Quite an interesting story.”

I said loudly, cutting in before Chase ran for cover. Conrad, thankfully, bypassed the whole Lucian-Caisen comedy routine and crouched beside Chase with that calm energy only he and very old therapists had. “Hey, Chase. Remember me?” Chase nodded. “You gave me the robot book.” “I did. And I brought part two. It’s got a space dog this time.” Caisen hovered behind them like an overexcited peacock. “Do I get a hello?” Chase blinked up at him. “Hi.”

So now, standing in the lion’s den, she chased the trail of that humanity. Her fingers drifted over the spines of his books—thick leather-bound volumes lined up like soldiers. Latin. Russian. Aramaic, maybe? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t even try to read them. Her ears were trained elsewhere. Outside the door, voices moved in and out like waves on a restless shore. Rosetta’s smooth cadence. Cassian’s clipped tone. And Anselmo’s husky baritone, always slightly bored, always dangerous. They were talking quickly. Urgently.