Cassian Novels & Stories

Kael’s eyes, however, didn’t pretend at all,they found me through the crowd and stayed there. “Why is he staring like I’ve stolen something?” I muttered under my breath. “You did,” Thessaly said sweetly. “His peace of mind, you look gorgeous Row" I feel my cheeks turn pink and a mutter a thank you. I don't think I look any differey than how I usually look. And then approaches, with the subtlety of a thunderstorm. Cassian. “Oh great,” Thessaly sighed. “Here comes Trouble Junior.” Alpha Mauris’s son, Cassian, strutts toward us with the kind of confidence only someone born into command and thoroughly unpunished for it could possess

I ran. Through tents. Past fires. Past warriors sharpening blades and whispering spells. He was there. In the healer’s tent. Shirtless. Scarred. Eyes the same shade of betrayal they’d always been. Cassian. His smile was slow. “Took you long enough.” The world tilted. “You died.” “I got better.” Leofric caught up behind me. His eyes went hard the second he saw the man. “Who is this?” “Old story,” Cassian said smoothly. “But I’m here for a new chapter.”

“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.”

My breathing caught painfully. Mother. Again. Always my mother. The one person nobody would explain. Gabriel noticed my reaction instantly. His jaw tightened. “Who are you?” The hunter finally looked toward him. “My name is Cassian.” The name meant nothing to me. But it clearly meant something to Lyra. Her face lost color immediately. “You,” she whispered. Cassian smiled without warmth. “Still alive, Lyra? That’s disappointing.” The giant creature near us snarled violently. The hunters behind Cassian immediately raised silver weapons.

Nathan said. "Oh, this must be good if you waited for your parents to leave," Jacob said. "Nathan, I can't handle anymore stress, maybe you should not tell them." Cassie said, nervously. "Cassie I know they can be ass holes at times, but it is ok.." Nathan told her. "What is it Cassie?" Norman asked. Cassie went to look out the window. Nathan followed her and wrapped his arms around her. "Guy no smart-ass remarks please. Cassie is a half blood." Nathan said to them.

The man wore a small, satisfied smile, as if he had just won something valuable. "Why?" Adrian asked, his voice breaking despite his best effort to stay strong. "At least tell me why." Cassian's jaw tightened. For one moment, Adrian thought he saw something raw and pained behind those dark eyes. Then it vanished, buried under ice. "Because you are nothing," Cassian said flatly. "A weak, useless kitchen boy. My pack needs a mate who brings power, not shame." Laughter rippled through parts of the crowd, cruel and quick. Adrian felt his whole body go numb, humiliation burning through him hotter than any fire.

And at the center of it all, undefeated, untouchable, was Kane Shawn. Standing at 6'5", with a body carved from years of brutal discipline, he was a titan among men. His blonde curls were damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he rolled his shoulders, his enormous arms flexing with ease. His skin glistened under the dim lights, his six-pack rippling with every movement. But it was his face that truly set him apart a masterpiece of sharp lines and perfect imperfections. His light blue eyes had the power to pierce through a man's soul, making even the most confident opponents hesitate. His lips, full and sinful, often twisted into a smirk that made women weak and men envious.

"Consider it done. Honestly, those two have been a headache since the moment they arrived at the capital anyway. I'll pass the order to the area leaders before sunset." Before I could even thank him, the heavy doors of my study slid open without a single knock. "My, my, what a lovely, cheerful talk," a smooth, slow voice purred from the doorway. Cassian strolled into the room, his hands casually shoved into the pockets of his silver-trimmed pants. He had his usual charming, mean smirk plastered across his handsome face, his dark hair perfectly styled as he walked toward the center of the room like he owned the floorboards beneath his boots. He didn't offer a f

My pulse thudded so loud I was sure he could hear it across the room. Cassian stood in the center, phone to his ear, gesturing with one hand while he spoke in rapid, low French. He wore black from head to toe, sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms corded with muscle and faint silver scars I didn’t remember from when I was a kid. The camera I’d seen last night now rested on a tripod, lens pointed at the white seamless like it was waiting for its next victim. He ended the call with a clipped au revoir and turned to me, expression unreadable.

In the center of the room, standing before a massive, wall-sized map of the city, was Cassian. He turned as we entered, and for a split second, I saw a flicker of genuine shock on his face. He had believed himself untouchable in his fortress. Then, the shock was gone, replaced by a slow, reptilian smile. He showed no fear, only a kind of perverse, theatrical amusement. “Brother,” he said, his voice calm, almost welcoming, as my men quickly and brutally neutralized his technicians. “I was wondering when you’d finally arrive. Did you enjoy the scenic route?”