Cassian Rhysand Novels & Stories

The crystal at her throat pulsed violently now, its warmth almost unbearable. "What do you want from me?" she demanded, struggling to keep her voice steady. "What I want," he said, moving closer with each word, "is what fate has already decided. Can't you feel it? The bond that's forming between us?" He gestured to his chest, where a faint glow emanated through his fine clothing. "I am Cassian Holt, heir to House Holt, master of the ember arts. And you," he reached out, his fingers stopping just short of touching the crystal at her throat, "are my fated mate."

the King commands, his voice cutting through the throne room like a knife. He turns his cold gaze to my Alpha. “Magnus Blackwood, is your strongest female this girl, or is it your daughter?” Magnus Blackwood’s face flushes red, but his voice is steady when he answers. “Your Majesty, it is Elara. She is our most powerful healer.” “I have a latent wolf!” I say, my voice rising with desperation. “How can I possibly be powerful? I can’t even shift!” “She’s lying,” Magnus Blackwood says quickly.

"Then why are you here?" Cassian took a breath. "There's a blood curse destroying my empire," he said, "my wolf is dying, my company is failing, everything is falling apart." I waited. "The pack elders say the only way to break it is through a mate bond," he continued, "which means you." "No," I said immediately. "I'm offering five million dollars," Cassian said, "one year of pretending to be my mate, then we go our separate ways." Five million would save the sanctuary, pay off every debt, and give Maya the life she deserved.

Riven said immediately. "They killed my brother," Lyra added. "Made me complicit in covering it up. This became my war the moment I learned the truth." "I've spent twenty years serving an institution I thought represented justice and order," Hayes said. "I'm not about to let them corrupt everything I've believed in." "And you?" I asked Caspian. He looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "You're asking if I'm willing to declare war against some of the most powerful people in the Lycan world for the sake of someone who's been lying to me since the day we met."

She held her hand out, and a growl ripped from my throat before I could stop it. I didn’t want him touching her, but Tempest just stroked my back with her free hand. “I’m your King...” “I’m her King, so don’t get it twisted,” I warned him, pissed. His face went hard as stone, but he didn’t answer me. “My name is Cassian, of House Raven Venefrix,” he introduced himself with all those pompous titles. But when he reached out and touched Tempest’s hand, I watched his expression flip fast, curiosity giving way to rage.

he continued, completely ignoring my threat, “I’m actually surprised.” My brows furrowed despite myself, “That Sylas didn’t tell you the truth.” he continued, My heart stuttered, and my fear returned, greater than ever, “What truth?” I asked in a quieter voice, He stepped back slightly, giving me a little space, but somehow his movements made it worse. He watched me for a long moment, like he was savoring the moment, then, his lips curved slightly, “My name,” he said slowly, almost pleasantly, “is Cassian.”

I muttered, and Zara looked like someone had reached into her chest and squeezed. “I never knew details,” I added. “But I knew enough to know it wasn’t clean.” She nodded once, sharp, controlled but terrifying because that was the version of her most likely to burn kingdoms. --- Cassian’s P.O.V He came to me himself. Interesting. “Ryker.” The Alpha, the territorial storm cloud in human form. He found me at the ruins just before sunset, standing like a man trying very hard to remain civilized. I respected the effort briefly.

Mind-linking required full concentration—or so I assumed. He cleared his throat, his voice commanding my attention. “My name is Visaris Rael Rhysand. I’m the Lycan King. And most recently…your mate.” My heart gave a startled jolt. “Should I… bow? Call you ‘Your Majesty’?” I asked awkwardly. “No, that won’t be necessary. Visaris is fine,” he said, waving it off. “And you are?” “I’m Roisin. Roisin Sinclair. I’m a werewolf… eighteen years old. That’s… pretty much everything.”