Cassian Novels & Stories

She had seen Caleb many times on television as the MD, but Cassian Holt was a different story altogether. Cassian Holt was a name that sparked both fear and admiration in the business world. Known for his unmatched influence and ruthless efficiency, he earned the title of an assassin for his precise and cold approach to eliminating obstacles. No one had ever seen his face—his true identity was a complete mystery. This secrecy only added to his fearsome reputation, making him a shadowy figure whose mere mention could unsettle even the most confident. Those who crossed him or fell into his web of influence often faced severe, unse

"This land falls under my territory. Step aside." "Sorry, sir. Give me a moment," he said. He went back and whispered something to another man standing further back. That man turned and walked forward. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and dark, calculating eyes. He moved confidently. He stopped in front of me and studied my face for a moment. Then he smiled, slowly and dangerously. He stretched out his hands. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Alpha Nicholas," he said, his voice smooth and low. "You can call me Cassian."

Cassian sat at the far end of the room beside the massive dark mahogany desk near the moonlit windows, looking like a Greek god of dark beauty. He was leaning back in a heavy leather armchair, bare chested and dressed only in his dark tailored trousers. The broad lines of his torso were visible, along with the intricate tattoos covering his arms and chest. His thick arms rested calmly across his chest, and an unlit cigarette hung loosely between his lips. Moonlight framed his figure as his pale silver eyes remained fixed on Alessia, and whatever little strength she had left seemed to disappear beneath that stare.

Then, while sitting in front of the mirror, I applied moisturizer to my face, neck, and hands. That was when someone suddenly knocked on my bedroom door, making me flinch. I stood up from the chair and walked toward the door before opening it. When I opened the door, I saw Cassian standing right in front of me. He wasn't wearing his black suit anymore. He was only wearing a white shirt and black pants. But his shirt was a little tight, making his body visible through the fabric. There was also a cigar between his middle and index fingers, the end burning and releasing thin wisps of smoke.

[ 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)

I just wanted to use every second of the minute to find her. “don’t play dumb with me Lenox Crawford, where is Camilla?” I asked in an emotionless voice. “Haha, so it is the infamous Lucien hart, what an honor to have you call me personally!” the man said and I was on the verge of losing my temper. “I won’t be very nice the next time I ask, don’t try gauge the level of my patience.” I said through gritted teeth. “And what are you going to do about it? Are you going to murder my whole family like you did to the Jones?” he inquired and I did not appear as if I cared.

The worse part was that he hadn't even stopped at just telling Dante to stop messing with his aunt, he even menaced to murder him. "We need to get you out of this city." Nate couldn't help but agree—that was not the avenue he wanted to continue upon this early in a new surrounding. "We need to get out now." "He could kill you, Nate." "I fucking know that Auntie, thanks." He snapped, annoyed that he hadn't been told all these things before even arriving to this city. He had never heard of anyone named Dante Hercules, his name sounded ridiculous anyway. Besides, he never even thought he would come across a mafia member, or an assassin, or a yakuza—honestly, all these terms were way too much fo

It's telling me that there is something unusual about the auras these men emit. “ Yeah, it's her,” Santino voice is flat. He fixes me with a bored look. “ She must be brave if she thinks she can murder a dragon with a fork.” The rugged one laughs, and my eyes shoot back to him. He putts a large cigar to his lips, he takes a drag and the tip of glows orange as a thin plume of smock rises. He removes the cigar from his lips and puffs out some smock. The act makes him look so fucking sexy in all his muscle glory standing there.

I’m talking to Palila one day about the risks versus benefits of giving Cyrene formula, discussing that as a feline, she might just prefer straight cows milk, when there’s a rush of energy and I hear some of the dragons roaring that someone has come into the ranch’s territory. I hand Cyrene to Palila and race outside. Dr. Everett runs up beside me. “What’s going on?” he asks. “I don’t know,” I tell him as we run. Up ahead, I see a man with hair a darker shade of red than Ishir’s but he’s much smaller and leaner than my mate. As I jog up, I lift my nose in the air. “Fox,” I tell Everett. “Kayid, what are you doing here?” Avani asks, coming up to him.

He immediately gives off a very warm vibe, despite the rather physically frosty look about him. “Finally, I’m glad we get to meet you Faye,” he says, smiling brightly. “I’m Cassian. Or as the Moon refers to me, Kindness.” It makes sense simply from the vibe he gives off. He does however, from his looks alone, he seems as though he would live in a realm of snow, and perhaps create is. He’s rather tall and lankly, covering his limbs with a thick black coat made from some animal. His hair is unkempt and shaggy, long around the top, tumbling across his forehead in a stark white mess. And his eyes. Like ice carved into perfect circle irises.