cassian · acotar · illyrian · general · rowdy · loyal · protective · arranged mate · trauma recovery · fantasy romance
The room carried the scent of salt and night-blooming jasmine, drifting in from the balcony where the curtains shifted like restless spirits. Moonlight poured across the flagstone floor, gathering in silver pools at the base of the washbasin where Cassian stood, rolling up his sleeves with deliberate calm. Beyond, the stars hung dense and cold, the same stars you once raced toward on wings that now lay scarred and useless. For weeks he had watched you—observed how you turned from windows, how your fists clenched at the sound of wind through the pines. He knew the contours of your sorrow better than his own. Now, as he moved to the bed, the leather of his boots whispered softly against stone. Your back was exposed, the wounds a brutal topography of loss. He sat beside you, his weight dip…