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Forbidden Spade

[PART FOUR]

werewolf!Cassian x human!reader

summary There is no magic in my blood, only in the deck of cards I have in my pocket. The handsome stranger I meet has something wild and untamed glittering in his eyes. I have to be careful not to fall for him. He’s forbidden but my heart thinks otherwise.

warnings fluff, hurt/comfort, trauma (bad parents)

words 7.4k

an well well well... look what sat in my 'ready' folder. Sorry that it took this long but here it the fourth part of our werewolf au. Happy reading <3

Cassian

Magic buzzes from the gates, it rings in my ears like a galling bagpipe. It thrums over my skin, leaving pebbles, even under my peaceguard uniform. By now, there’s a clear path of my footprints from walking up and down the iron fence that surrounds the mansion. I hate this place. The droning of the magic makes me uneasy as if it’s not natural and intervenes with my lycabilities.

I shake my head like that would shed the magical veil past me. My eyes fly to the one window that’s barely lit. I know that it’s YN’s and I wonder how she is after that dreadful day. She must be frightened to the bones. Probably, her mother gave her an intervention and it nags on my nerves, because I’m sure her family’s cornering her. My fists itch and I clench like they are a valve for the rage in my chest, because right now right here, I cannot protect her from them.

YN

“So,” Beelz drawls as he sits on the armrest of the plush chair I’m trying to seek comfort in. His green eyes are spread wide and his tail is puffed up with irritation. “You nearly got torn into ribbons in the woods, stumble across a wolf in a trap, and then discover your midnight stranger is one of them?” His whiskers twitch, disgust curling the word. “Figured. You always had a questionable taste.”

“Beelz!”

“What? Wolves drool. They stomp and bring all the dirt inside the house. They wag their tales like idiots. Dog-brained. The whole lot of them. And now he’s hanging around?” He chides and jumps from the chair and elegantly promenades towards the open doors that lead to the balcony with his ears flat towards my direction. "Unacceptable!"

“He’s not like that.” I say, suddenly aggravated by his accusations. I stand from my chair, the blanket pooling at my feet. My room feels too big, like always, but cramped at the same time, like it would swallow me. The floor and walls are shiny and without one imperfection that’s so at odds with me. I’m not shiny, not special. To be frank I never felt good here as if it’s not my real home. I step out of the heap and walk to the balcony door, thin scratches of Bellz’s nails trailing the wood.

I exhale and let my head fall back into my neck as I grab the handle, considering pushing him to the side with the door a bit too harshly to make my point clear. He jumps out of the way as I swing the door open, the brisk air of the nearing dawn catches the length of my dress.

With his nose scrunched, he follows me onto the balcony and snorts. “They’re all like that.”

“He’s not,” I insist, my fingers fumbling with the edges of the cards inside my pocket. “When he looks at me… I don’t feel weak. Like I do when my mother talks to me. Or useless. He doesn't see me as the hollowborn without magic. He just– sees me.”

The cat goes very still, watching my every move.

“What did Morgana say to that?” he asks carefully, keeping his distance.

My pulse quickens, my lips pressing into a line and I grip the handrail tighter as I lean against it. The memories of my mother chiding me just minutes ago are making me feel smaller than ever before, like I’m a little child again.

I take a deep breath. “That I shamed the bloodline by running into the woods. That I put my future in danger just by playing hero. That I– consorted with a wolf.” My head falls to my chest as I replay how upset she was at my behaviour.

Beelz’s ears twitch back anew. “Consorted,” he echoes back with horror. I know he hates dogs – wolves. He’s a cat after all. I know it’s a remnant from the day I saved him as a kitten from a pack of wolves that played with him and nearly drowned him. But deep down he’s on my side no matter what. He hates my mother more than he hates wolves. “Sounds scandalous. She must have enjoyed giving you the speech again.” He scolds and sits beside my feet, brushing his cheek against my shin and purring to calm me down. “What else?”

“She said I was reckless. That I forgot who I am and to what coven I belong to. That if I keep this up, I’ll bring misfortune to my family’s name and no warlock will ever want me.” My throat tightens at the thought that she brought up again that I have to marry into the magical-world. “She said that I’m nothing but a disappointment. Again.”

Only the wind answers and the clouds soundlessly hide the half-moon, tinting us in darkness.

Beelz flicks his tail around my shin and retorts. “Charming woman. Your mother, Morgana Grimrose, Her Majesty of Misery. Really knows how to inspire confidence.”

I chuckle at that, bitter and frail. “I can’t keep doing this. Every time I try to… to be enough, it’s never enough.” I blink the tears away. “And now–” my gaze drifts toward the gate. Cassian is there again after he took another leap, standing tall, his ears peaked and on high alert. “Now I’ve given her a real reason to hate me.” After all, I can't say one bad thing about my mother. She dedicated her whole life to me – to the heirloom that I am. She raised me and taught me everything that I know. She made me who I am. But my heart cracks at the thought that she would never be proud of me, no matter what I’m doing to please her. My heartrate skyrockets at the thought that I have to try harder to live up to her ideals like I’m a bird with a broken wing flying into the sky, trying to fight against the thinning air as I’m trying to reach the moon.

Beelz’s eyes follow my line of sight. He catches Cassian standing guard. “The pavement is going to reek of his marking in no time.”

“That’s not what I mean.” I scold him sharply with my jaw clenched. It’s not because of Cassian’s presence there. It’s all about me, again, not fulfilling the destiny my mother sees in my future.

Beelz recoils and his hackles rise at my biting comment. His eyes dart between Cassian and me, how I gaze at him with longing and pity. Then he says, softer. “You really aren't afraid of him, are you?”

I shake my head. No. I’m afraid of everything else. Of what’s going to happen when they find out. That I– that I like him? That I have the biggest crush on him? That I’m forbidden to be near him – a wolf. That I’m bespoken to someone my mother will choose for me, someone who fits into her view of the world. “I’m afraid of losing this before it even begins.”

“Then maybe that’s the problem.” Beelz puffs his chest and curls his tail neatly around his feet but looks up into my sad face, one single tear escaping the corner of my eye. He sighs “I suppose I’ll allow the mutt to linger.” I look down at him, my lips quirking into the faintest smile. “For now.” He adds and a slow grin splits his failing arrogance.

“But if he puts one paw out of the line, I’ll scratch his eyes out myself.”

“Thank you.” I whisper breathlessly with a shaky smile.

He turns to the door brushing my leg, the curtain flowing in the wind. “But I’m all you’ve got to tell you the truth. And the truth is, little one, that your mother doesn't scare me half as much as you do right now – standing on that edge, staring down at him like your heart’s already his.”

I only hear half of what he’s saying. Cass turns around and our gazes lock. I can’t read his face. He’s worried and tired but he gifts me with a smile and I wave at him good night before getting inside, leaving the balcony door open, to listen to his footsteps wander up and down the outside of the fence, making me feel calm and safe, while I drift to sleep.

The scraping of cutlery against ancient porcelain fades in my ears. The polished crystal glass that sits in front of me like a statue reflects my face like I’m a ghost – a transparent entity on the verge of existing. I keep my eyes down as the grand hall with its high ceilings swallows the voices of my mother, her mother and my grand-grand mother. I fold my hands in my lap and my plate of barely touched food stares back at me. The knots in my stomach are keeping my appetite as my family discusses my future as if I wasn't even there.

“The Augra will see her in one week,” my mother says crisply, slicing into a pear with a silver knife. My grandmother says it like a decree. “She must be ready. She’ll present herself as a daughter of this bloodline…steady, disciplined, worthy.”

A shiver runs down my spine as her words sting in my chest. I know they want the best for me. I have to be most presentable and make a good impression. I want to make my family proud. Even if they couldn't fix me until now, I want to show them that I’m dedicated and that my future can restore the damage I did to them by being a Hollowborn.

I lift my eyes, straighten my back and pick up my fork again, forcing myself to eat something and engage in the conversation. “I won’t disappoint you.” My voice leaks the anticipated zeal.

My great-grandmother picks up her glass slowly and brings it to her lips even slower. It’s as if she’s fossilized – no one knows how old she really is. But her eyes are still as sharp as two dark gemstones cut with a thousand facets. “The Augra will confirm what we already know. That she belongs to our path. That her future is secured in our lines.”

I bite down on my tongue, fighting the urge to ask what if the Augra tells me that there is another path for me? A different one? What if I have to follow it against the wishes of my family?

They’d only laugh. Or worse, turn the words in my mouth and coerce me to the future they want me to have.

I exhale soundlessly as I feel Beelz’s tail brush my ankle from beneath the table. His voice slides into my mind, dry and cocky as ever. “She’ll be powerful and even more so her offspring.” He mocks the words we’ve heard over and over for the past few years.

I know what my family has in mind for me. Giving them a daughter that will outshine every other coven like a diamond that’s hit by the sun at midday. I know that I’ll be a mother, but that’s in the far future. Witches are getting married after their thirtieth birthday, so they have enough time to develop their magic and be most powerful before conceiving. That gives me at least eight more years.

My lips twitch but I’m able to keep my face neutral at Beelz’s comment. No one else could have heard him. Mother hexed him when I had him mere weeks, so that only I could hear what he was saying… or the people I wanted to hear him. She said that his relentless yapping and sarcasm were annoying and she was too fed up with that.

My mother leans back in her chair, watching servants drape garlands of golden-threaded flowers over carved doorways while others are hanging fairy lights all across the walls. Fairies not taller than a child drift through the grand hall, measuring the curtains, perhaps to replace them with one’s in another colour. “Your birthday will be an event to remember,” she says in a smooth tone. “We’ve arranged surprises. Guests from afar, dignitaries who will honor you. You’ll be radiant, child. The center of it all.”

My fork stills against my plate. I hate surprises. The way my mother’s eyes gleam sends a chill all over my skin. Her surprises were never for me. They were for power, for show or for alliances. When I turned thirteen I had to engage in a debutante ball and she didn't tell me about that just an hour before leaving. All eyes were on me for the whole evening – the grey hollowblood-mouse drenched in all colours of the rainbow. She pressured me to talk to all the families and their sons and showed me off like I was her most precious possession – I was, I am. But it was horrible. All night in that enormous ball room I wanted to curl up into a silent corner and play with my cards all by my own. I never fitted into the witch world, everyone always saw me as the girl without power and they talked over my head like they were better than me. I suppose they are. It was all about politics and bonds behind closed doors.

“The girl’s future will be sealed before the moon wanes.” My grandmother cheers, holding out her glass to clink them with her mother and daughter. The sleeves of her dress flows from her arms like molten fire, missing the usual warmth. My birthday is in one week. I have one week to prepare to encounter hundreds of people again. It’ll be the debutant ball all over again.

As their glasses connect with a clinging ring, a sudden sharp crack screeches out. Everyone jolts as one of the gigantic gold framed mirrors splits down the center like a rift that opened to hell. A servant rushes forward but my mother lifts her hand to still them.

“An omen,” my grand-grand mother whispers, smiling like she’s pleased. “Change is coming.”

My pulse stutters and my blood is drained from my face. I swallow hard. I don’t need omens. I don’t want omens. I already feel the change clawing toward me. All I want is a calm life without surprises. My throat tightens as my air gets thin and I nearly shatter the glass of wine I’m holding. I have to get out of here.

“The wolf is still at the gates, my lady.” A servant comes to the table, the fairy was looking out of the window after testing samples of velvety fabrics in the sunlight.

My mother’s lips curl. “Of course he is.” She scoffs. “Wolves are stubborn creatures. Loyal to a fault, stupidly so. Let him rot there, it suits his kind.”

Heat flares in my chest and I know better than to duel my mother for her profanity, so I keep my eyes down. Even if a sharp remark is on the tip of my tongue, I cannot defend him. Not here. They’d scold me and would send me to study history again in the archives until I’d say the same toxic words as them.

Beelz mutters, his whiskers twitching from where he’s sprawled at my feet. “She’s not wrong. All the drool! Dog-brained brutes.” I can't hold back, instead of kicking him, I slide him away from me over the polished black marble floor, to tell him silently that I don’t want him to insult Cassian.

I want to lash out and scream that Cassian isn’t like that. That he’s steady and fierce and…safe. Safe in a way no one in this hall ever made me feel. The times our hands brushed so tenderly and how he held me gently against his chest when I broke after saving the wolf from the trap ruled my mind and my dreams.

“You look pale, dear.” My mother’s gaze slides to me. “You should take a walk in the garden, get some sun.”

“Yes.” I say quickly, grasping the first excuse she gives me. “I need some air. Perhaps I’ll go to the market. We need new herbs, don't we? Fresh supplies.”

The hall goes quiet. My grandmother narrows her eyes with fire blazing there like she’s searching my soul for cracks. My mother studies me for too long as if measuring my plea. Finally she waves her hand with a graceful flick. “Very well. Go. Take the beast if you must. He’s your guard dog, after all. At least we know he’s bound to the laws of the peaceguards, so he’ll protect you.”

The chair screeches against the ground as I stand up too eagerly, failing to keep my cool to get out of this situation. I’m half way to the entry way with Beelz hot on my heels when I hear her voice ringing from behind me. “Burn your dress when you come back, it’ll be beyond saving when it reeks of wet dog.” She laughs as the servant pours her another drink.

The words sting. I bow my head, hiding the burning behind my ribs.

Cassian

I spend the night walking up and down the iron fence. My feet and back are hurting like a bitch but that's nothing in comparison to the headache that manifested since I left the station last night. YN looked so small, so fragile, as her mother towed her along.

I had my fair share of encounters with Morgana. She’s the head of the most powerful coven of the witches and I can't hate her more. Her arrogance exceeds the ones I know from the alphas in the training camps and how she talks about other species curls my toe nails. It’s like no time has passed after the war between wolves and witches and does everything to remind the ones she thinks of as lesser – still calling wolves dreadful names, I hate it but I'm used to it. She’s keeping a hoard of fairies as her slaves and twists the law as it suits her to get the things she wants. I can't even count the occasions where she spun a delicate net of lies to manipulate the Council to make politics work for her interests.

I know how she distorts the people around her and that makes me afraid of what she’s doing to YN to bend her at her will. I was brooding the whole night over plans on how to help her to get her out of the fangs of her poisonous family, but there wasn't even one that was good enough.

But what would I do after that? It’s not like I could just hide her in my house. Her family would come after me or spread rumors that I took her against her will…even if she was there because she wanted it. And then? I could never give her the life she deserves. The golden plates and the marble mansion she lives in is as far from my lifestyle as it could get. She’d be an outcast. From what little I know she sacrificed so much to fit in and I would be the one who destroyed it. She worked so hard to please her family and I can't take that from her. It would ruin her reputation and she would hate me for that.

Besides, how would her life go on if she’d lived with me? I have no clue what she could do as her profession…as a human. Sell stoneware at the corner of the market? Take the unforgiving job as an underpaid seamstress or a kitchen help on the end of the totem post? Could she get some position along the wolves? I scratch that instantly, she’d have to work relentlessly to earn their trust, even if she already has mine, it would take her decades. And even if that wasn't an issue, we would never be allowed to be together. It’s unheard of for a human or her as a hollowblood to mate with a wolf. I could never act on my feelings toward her, so I have to be her friend. That’s all I can do, even if it destroys me.

A crystal shade of pale yellow crashes into the light blue of the morning as blackbirds and robins sing their first songs to announce the start of a new day. The swaying leaves of the surrounding trees are pitch black against the bright sky next to the looming gate of the family’s estate. The magic buzzes like a swarm of hornets in my sensible ears, but suddenly, the gate yearns open and my head shoots around.

There she is.

In a simple grey dress as always with a basket in her hand made out of woven willows. I stride towards her and as I catch her smiling at me, the annoying noise of the magic wanes as her presence overshines it.

I square my shoulders, feeling lighter as ever, the pain in my body and head long forgotten. I cross the distance to her and can't help as the corners of my mouth tip upwards.

“Good morning, Cassian.” She says it like it's a secret. I hum a good morning in response, then she pulls an apple from behind her back and presses it into my hand with a shy smile.

It’s shiny, with a delicious tint of red. It smells like heaven as if she took it from a forbidden garden. My mind drifts back to the memory of when I was abandoned in the training camp…Rhysands mother was the only grown up that was allowed there, she took me in and the first thing she fed me was an apple. It was as if life roared back into me. Now, it seems insignificant as I hold the apple that YN just gave me in my palm, like it’s the treasure pirates have been searching for for ages.

“I figured you were hungry.” Her small voice rings in my ears smoothly.

“Starving.” I smile down at her before biting into it, the sweet juice spilling over my tongue. “You’re spoiling me.” My grin spreads wide. “You steal from your mother’s kitchens just for me?” I tease her to lighten the mood.

Her cheeks rise and heat up as she looks away, but I don't miss the way her lips twitch. Cauldron, it makes my chest ache.

“How are–” I begin to ask but she places her index on her lips, signaling me to keep my voice down. Does she think her mother can hear us out here? Fuck I hate magic.

“I need to go to the market.” She says it like an excuse and I take the basket from her, keeping her close as we walk down the cobblestone streets.

We come to a halt at the diamond fountain, the water calmly splashing behind us as we sit next to each other on the concrete that’s holding the icy liquid. Her hands come out of her pockets, red streaks in her palm like she grabbed the deck of cards in her pocket too hard for too long. They’re trembling and she keeps her head down as if she’s afraid. I can hear her heart beating fast and I smell the stress on her. I inch closer and take her hand in mine. “How are you?”

The question isn't as simple as it seems as she opens and shuts her mouth, fishing for the right words. I rub soothing circles on her skin to encourage her. “I’m sorry I didn't tell you–”

A man passes by, a warlock with blues and lilac gleaming in his robes. He sneers at YN as he spits on the ground. “Hollowborn. No wonder you need a mutt at your side. Perhaps he fetches your leash, too?”

I freeze and the air shifts around us. I’m between her and the asshole in an instant, shielding her from him. My voice is deep and sharp as I growl at him. “Watch your mouth.”

The warlock just grins but steps back. “One more word and I’ll have you at the station for offensive speech and insults.” The man falters but his eyes narrow at me, at the wolf looming beneath my skin. With a huff, he turns and slithers back before trails off with a dark look on his face.

My hackles still stand as I watch him leave until he’s out of sight. I turn around to find YN holding the basket with trembling hands. I kneel before her, covering her shaky hands. “Ignore him,” I say gently. “He knows nothing about you.”

She swallows and her eyes glaze over. “I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn't have to be.” My tone leaves no room for argument but she still looks like she has a dagger in her back.

“Is that why you didn't tell me what you were? Because of people like him?” She whispers and her eyes lock on mine and I can see the hurt.

My jaw works before I answer. “Wolves don't exactly have the cleanest reputation. And I didn't want to see fear in your eyes when you looked at me.” It’s true. Humans most of all are taught as soon as they can crawl that wolves pose a threat to them. There were times when my species was wild and untamed, but taking a child has always been a lie.

The frown on her face reminds me of when I saw her in the stone circle. I just wanted her to be okay. To make her whole again.

She frowns and slips her hands over mine, now soothing me. “I’m not afraid of you. Just…of everything else.”

Her honesty hits me like a blow. She’s not afraid of being close to me, because I’m a wolf. She’s afraid because of what society thinks about it. Until this day, interspecial bonds are looked down on. I catch the softness in her gaze. “That’s why you didn't tell me you were witchborn?”

She flinches at the word ‘witch’ and a single tear slips down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but… I didn't want you to see me as a deficient.” She admits, her voice cracking. “Everyone else does...”

My heart is in a wrench. How could anyone see this amazing girl as anything but a wonderful soul? Without thinking my hand cups her face, holding her tenderly. “You’re not less, YN. Not to me. When I look at you, the only thing I see is a wonderful girl. A girl that likes to show me her card ticks. I still don't know how you did that by the way.” It earns me a half chuckle from her. “And I see a girl that cares so much about everyone else that sometimes she forgets to take care of herself.” There is a flicker of hope in her eyes, it’s fragile but alive and I’m determined to nurture it until it grows into a beautiful flower.

Her eyes bore into mine and she falls into my arms. I press her to my chest, holding her tightly as she tries to contain her whimpers. It pierces my heart and the alpha in me takes over. I’d do anything to make her hurt go away. But I have to know how the damage began to heal her shattered heart.

“What has your family done to you? Why have you been in the forest at night?” I ask cautiously, I don't want to frighten her.

She lightly pushes back but steadies herself with her hands on my shoulders. “The ritual.”

I’m in a stun. That sounds even worse than I thought. “Ritual?”

She nods and I can see the veil closing before her inner eyes as she begins to speak. “When my parents noticed that I was Hollowborn, my mother arranged a ritual. Every sunday, I’m brought into the caves beneath our estate, where she summons the ghosts of our ancestors, begging them to gift me with the magic that I should have gotten when I was born. I’m painted with sigils, given a potion and fall into some kind of trance. It feels like you’re being ripped apart – to give the spirits an entrance into my body. But I never stopped trying even if…I just have to make up for being just human. I have to make them proud and earn my place.”

It’s like someone shot an arrow right through my ribs.

For how long has this been going on? Why would her parents make her go through all of that when there never had been a record of a human that received magic powers after their birth. Now it all makes sense. When she said it was torture. That her parents try to squeeze something from her that isn't even there. They never gave a fuck about her, just what her body could hold for them to expand their power.

All I can do is gaze at her and let her go on. “Whenevery I woke up, I felt more empty than before – disconnected and truly hollow. I needed something real, so I ventured into the forest to calm down, to feel anything else than the remaining poison that tore at my soul. I liked being in the forest. Everything was so serene and quiet. I knew about the dangers but at some point I didn't care anymore.”

Did I hear right? Is she telling me that her own life didn't matter to her? All of that, just because her parents want her to be something she isn't? Fury burns in my veins and I’m seconds away from turning into a werewolf from the rage. The beast inside me scratches from within, begging me to be let out and run back to her parents to rip them into ribbons.

“But it changed.” She says calmly and gives me a weak smile. “It changed the night I met you.” Her words still the wolf inside of me, like the hand of the Mother soothing over my raised hackles, pushing my other half back into its cage. My heart pounds in my chest and my throat feels tight. “You were– are so different from my family. You talked to me and I felt the spark in my eyes come back. You wanted me to show you my card tricks. And you made talking to you so easy, you made smiling so easy. I’ve never felt like that before.”

“I’m sorry that they treat you that way. You don't deserve that. Nothing of that.” I cup her cheek again and brush a tear away with my thumb. “YN, we have to report this. They’re mistreating you.”

“N-no. We can’t do that. They’re my family. They’ll be punished and their reputation will be ruined. We can’t–”

I stop her rambling. “YN, they don’t mean well. They’re hurting you. That’s not what family is supposed to do. They’re supposed to be there for you and protect you, like–”

She shakes her head weakly and a small smile appears on her face. “Like you do.”

My heart stops at her words. “Yes, like I do. Sweetheart, I promise I’ll be there for you. Whatever you need from me, I’ll be at your side. I won’t let them do this to you anymore.”

She nods and nuzzles into my palm. I let a purr reverberate from my chest, deep and calming, not hiding it anymore. I let her feel it in her bones and she melts against me, her heartrate evening out again, like a cat falling asleep in front of a cozy fireplace. “The night we met it changed me, too.” I open up to her and the birds around us seem to sing louder, more lively. “You saw me as just a guy, not the alpha brute everyone else thought me to be. You let me close without scrunching your nose or throwing insults my way.”

“Seems we’re in the same boat.” The glitter in her eyes is back as she smiles sweetly at me. My heart blossoms and I lean forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead. She lets out an exhale, like she was holding her breath for a lifetime, like it’s the first time she can suck in air freely.

I stand up and gently pull her to her feet. I take the basket and my free hand grabs hers, intertwining our fingers as I lead the way down the street towards the market.

It’s bustling with people of all shapes. I try to focus on the job, scanning the crowd, reading faces, listening to danger – but my eyes keep pulling back to her.

She picks out herbs and dried bouquets of lavender. The light of the early sun catches in her dress. I swear it was grey this morning, but now I can see that it’s embroidered with threads of finest silver fire. It makes her skin come alive, haloing her like she’s a goddess of the old days. She’s not plain at all, not overlooked, like she’s something rare and she doesn’t even seem to know it.

She walks along the stalls, browsing for flasks and flowers, handing the dealers copper coins for the items that slowly fill the basket. She plucks a flower from the bouquet and gazes up at me with a smile before cautiously adding it into the pocket on my chest. The sweet fragrance smells just like her and it seems like she gives a piece of herself over to me. It’s a sincere gesture that means everything to me. I brush my hand against hers in thanks. The heat creeps into my cheeks as I square my shoulders proudly. Having a flower that she picked for me is like becoming a member of the knights.

The smile on her face is real as she holds small talk to the vendors and I wonder how she can cope with the dread that her family puts her through. How her mother grabbed her in the interrogation room… How can she still be so tender and kind while they torment her with this ritual every week. I’ve seen her twice right after and it carved all strength from her. There has to be something I can do to prevent her from going through that again.

A silent but very cute squeal from her lips pulls me out of my thoughts like a lifeline. She comes to stand in front of a table with little stuffed animals and homemade baked goods for the furry pets. She pulls a white fluffy mouse up by its tail and a beaming smile graces her face. “What’s that for?”

“For Beelz.” She says it like I should obviously know what that is.

“Beelz?” I grin at the name.

“Yes, Beelzebub. My cat. Don’t laugh at me. I named him when I was little and I thought the name was hilarious. I always whined to my parents, because I wanted a sibling. One day, I found him as a kitten when a pack of pups played with him and almost drowned him, so dog’s don't have a very good reputation from his perspective. I saved him and took him home. My mother enchanted him, so he could talk and keep me company.” She chuckles. “Well, to my misfortune he became the little brother I never wanted. Always a witty remark on his lips, always dipping his paws into my fresh glass of water and shaking the drops into my face.”

“A talking cat. Who would have thought that?” I smirk. I adore the way she talks about her cat….about the way she talks about everything. It’s like she’s a maze and I can't wait to get around the next corner to see what wonders lie there, hoping to never find the exit. The fabric is soft as she brushes it with her thumb like she drowns in her own thoughts.

“He’s the only friend I’ve ever had.” She says absently.

I let out a low chuckle. “And here I thought I was special. Already beaten out by a cat.” Her head snaps to me and she glows at my joke.

“I don’t steal apples for him.” She remarks brightly. It pulls a warm laugh out of me. Cauldron, she’s going to undo me.

“Here, let me.” I dig in my pocket and tell the vendor to keep the change before she smiles at me and puts the stuffed mouse into the basket.

She links her arm with mine as we stroll down the street together. A nagging bites inside my chest. “Back there, in the interrogation room,” I say, keeping my voice careful. “You called me your friend. Did you mean that?”

We slow down as she stiffens a bit at my words, blinking at me, then nodding shyly. “I…I’ve never really had one before you. So…yes. I mean it. I was happy to have someone there that was on my side. I was happy to have you there.”

Breath caught in my chest as her cheeks tint with a rosy colour. Her face turns down as if she is embarrassed, it’s cute. “Hey,” I call her silently and tip her chin up gently, so she looks up to me as I gaze into her, like it could bury the information into her. “I’m your friend, YN.” the corners of her lips turn up, and it is like she’s blinding me with her smile. “I’m also happy that I was there. I was ready to rip everyone into shreds who threatened you.”

“Thank you.” She breathes and leans her head on my shoulder. Slowly, we make our way back through the crowd and her fingers brush over my arm from time to time reassuringly and like it was the most normal thing for us to do. We move together and her presence fills the spaces inside of me that I haven't even realized were empty. For the first ime in a long while, despite the shadows of missing wolves and the danger that seems to press closer, I feel a flicker of something I never dared to hope for.

She never pulls away from me, rather squeezing closer. Her lovely smell drifts up to me and I can tell she’s finally able to relax. And my damned heart nearly leaps out of my chest. I’m able to do that to her and I’m ecstatic. People stare but I couldn't care less. For once, I don't care about the whispers, the rules, the lines drawn in blood between wolves and witches and humans. All I see is her.

We round the corner and are back at the diamond as I can’t stifle a yawn.

“You’re tired.” She says with a stunned voice and a worried look that has no business being so sweet, like she just forgot that I did a literal double shift. I’m almost awake for a whole day, but her smell and presence soothes me so much it throws my body in a tranquil mood, like a lullaby sings a child to sleep. “You should go home and rest. You must be so exhausted.”

The yawn turns into a huffy laugh. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Az or Rhys will take the next shift after me. Just before you came to me, I got a dove telling me we’re running rotations. They’re in my pack – brothers, really.” My heart bleeds at the thought that I was blessed to have Az and Rhys as my brothers almost my whole life but she was alone for so long. “If I fell asleep on my feet, they’d kick me awake just to laugh about it.” I lighten the mood, remembering the pranks they used to play on me.

Her lips curve. “That sounds nice. Having people like that.”

We kick a stone further in front of us like it's a little game. “It is,” I admit softer this time. I want to tell her that she has them too now. Not only because she’s under my protection by law, but also because I feel deeply for her. More than I’d be ever able to tell. “And my mother, too. I’d never hear the end of it if she knew how little I’ve slept this week. But she…she’s everything. I owe her a lot."

“She must be proud of you.”

I swallow hard. Hearing that from her means so much more than it should. We walk a little longer, the silence between us comfortable as she cranes her neck to see a swarm of birds fly by. Perhaps, she wishes to be as free as them.

We reach the corner of her street and I stretch out my arm to take her hand in mine and it feels like they’d been made to fit exactly, swinging them subtly between us. I can’t stop myself anymore. We come to a stand in front of the gates and I lean down, close enough to catch the faint scent of herbs and the sweetness of her perfume. I step between the gates and her, just making sure no one from within the mansion can see our faces. I’m losing my nerves as I brush my lips gently and feathery light against her cheek. A quick kiss, barely there, but enough to feel her shiver under it.

She blinks at me, stunned, then smiles. Radiant with her eyes shining bright. “Thank you, Cassian.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

And Cauldron help me. I want to promise her the world right here right now. Nothing, not witches nor traps would ever touch her again.

I gently squeeze her hand goodbye and let the silence say what I can't. I let her pass the gate with her full basket in hand and take the stand in front of the gates again and the deafening buzzing is back as if to yell at me to keep off. But I stay.

My boots are rooted to the gravel path as the run rises higher and the sleep deprivation plays tricks to my mind. That’s when I see it, just at the far corner of the fence in the treeline. A figure, cloaked and still, watching. I blink my eyes and my hackles rise as the wolf inside of me paces with ears picked. It must be the same one YN saw in the forest last night. One blink and the figure slips away into nothing as though it had never been there.

I almost lunge after it but I cannot leave my post. Can't leave her unguarded. My jaw clenches. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe my mind plays tricks on me, but the dread in my gut says otherwise. It was real. Had it followed us from the woods and over the market? Had it been trailing her all along? How did I not notice it?

Will I tell her? Warn her that she isn't safe? Maybe not even in her own home. The wards around the mansion are thick but I have no idea what powers the figure has…But what good would it do, except frighten her even more? I promised her she could lean on me and fear isn't a gift I want to give her. Not until I’m sure what it is and how to fight it.

The wards hum louder and a sharp buzz is pressing against my skull. Then, cold and slick, a chill perforates my mind like icy fingers opening a locked door. I turn with my heart hammering in my veins, and there she is.

Morgana.

She’s standing in the high window, half hidden by the velvet drapes with her face carved in shadow but her eyes burning like a flame in the dark. Suddenly, her voice whispers, not aloud but inside me. “Stay away from her, wolf. Or I’ll tear you from her side myself.”

The curtains fall closed, swallowing her from my sight as her words still echo in my head. Now I have another threat on my plate. Not only the figure that makes people vanish and ignites the fear inside of me that it could trail YN and steal her away. But also that her witch of a mother wants me nowhere near her, even if I’d do anything to keep her safe.

I know I have to keep an eye on her, too.

[PART THREE]

[PART FIVE]

tags @saltedcoffeescotch @donnadiddadog @sophieliz @asiriusmistake @xadenswhore