I muttered Ch 17

The banquet was a masquerade of opulence—golden light, silk gowns, and wolves pretending they were gods. I stood in the shadows, the only one not dressed for worship. My bond throbbed with unease. Cassian hadn’t spoken to me all day.

Then King Toren raised his goblet. His voice cut through the music like steel.

“Tonight, we honor the union of House Vale and House Duskthorne. The future of the Dire line—secured.”

Applause. Confused laughter. Then stillness.

Cassian stood slowly from his seat at the King’s right. His jaw was stone. His eyes, ice.

“I never agreed to this,” he said.

Toren didn’t blink. “And nobody asked you.”

Cassian turned and walked out. No bow. No explanation. Just gone.

I followed.

The halls were quieter up here—cold, echoing with the weight of secrets carved into every wall. I passed gold-cloaked guards who didn’t meet my gaze. I didn’t care. My heart was pounding too hard, the bond pulsing like wildfire in my blood. Every instinct screamed his name.

I found him in the upper towers, leaning against a marble column, the night wind tearing at his shirt.

He didn’t turn when I approached. His voice was low and sharp, carried on the wind like a vow unspoken.

“I should’ve burned this place to the ground the day I arrived.”

I stepped closer, slow and steady. “You didn’t.”

“I should’ve,” he said again, jaw tight. “Instead, I let them convince me I could rule it. I thought if I played their game, I could keep you safe. That maybe it was enough.”

“It’s not,” I whispered.

“No,” he agreed. “It’s never been.”

The wind caught his hair, shadows curling down his neck. I could see the way his hands shook, just barely, from rage or restraint or both.

“They think they can parade me like a prize hound,” he muttered. “Announce my future like I’m already dead. They think marrying her will wash the curse from my blood.”

“You’re not cursed,” I said. “You’re more alive than any of them.”

He laughed bitterly. “That’s not what they see. To them, I’m still the Dire heir who lost control.”

I stepped closer until our shadows touched. “Do you still want me?” I asked, voice barely audible.

That made him turn.

He looked at me like I was air. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

My breath caught. The space between us vanished. The world slipped quiet.

“I would burn it all for you,” he said, low. “Every crown, every council seat. I would walk into that throne room tomorrow and tear it apart with my teeth if it meant you were free.”

I touched his chest, right over his heartbeat. “Then stop letting them chain you. You’re the Prince, but you’re still letting them choose for you.”

“They’ll never stop coming for you,” he said. “Not while the bond lives.”

“Then let them come,” I whispered. “Let them see what happens when two wolves stop pretending.”

He stared at me like I’d just handed him a blade and dared him to use it.

“You’re mine,” he said softly. “In a world that hates us both, you’re the only thing that makes sense.”

I pressed my forehead to his. “Then stop fighting it.”

His lips hovered over mine, hesitant. “This will change everything.”

“I know,” I breathed.

That night, we stopped pretending.

Cassian closed the door behind us, locked it, then turned around slowly—like he was holding something in. His eyes met mine, and the air changed.

“You sure?” he asked, voice low, already husky.

I nodded, pulse pounding. “I’m sure.”

He stepped in close, slid his hand around my waist and pulled me in. His mouth met mine in a kiss that wasn’t cautious. It was claiming. My fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt, tugging it up. He broke the kiss just long enough to strip it off.

His bare chest brushed mine, and I gasped at the contact—skin to skin, heat against heat. He kissed down my neck, slow and teasing, and murmured against my collarbone, “If we’re doing this… I want to feel every part of you.”

“Then do it,” I whispered.

He smiled—like I’d just handed him the world.

He unbuttoned my top, one by one, eyes never leaving mine. When he slid it off my shoulders, he let his fingertips graze my skin, slow enough to make me shiver.

“Can I?” he asked, fingers brushing my bra strap.

“Yes,” I said.

It came off in one smooth motion. His gaze dropped to my chest, and he exhaled like he’d been holding it for hours.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Then his mouth was on me—tongue circling my nipple, lips sucking until I arched into him, gasping. He licked, kissed, bit gently, and the friction made my thighs clench.

“Cassian…” My voice was barely a breath.

He knelt in front of me, hands gripping the waistband of my skirt. “I’m taking this off.”

I nodded.

He peeled it down slowly, eyes dark with want. Then he saw I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’ve been this bare under your clothes all night?”

“Just for you.”

He groaned—low, raw—and leaned in, kissing the inside of my thigh, then higher, teasing me with breath and heat.

“Can I taste you?”

“Please.”

He didn’t hesitate. His mouth slid over me, tongue working slow, firm strokes. I moaned—loud and honest. His hands gripped my hips tighter as he sucked and licked, tongue circling my clit until I was grinding against his face, helpless.

He pulled back only when I was shaking.

“You’re ready.”

I watched him undress. His cock was thick, flushed, already hard. My breath caught. He rolled on a condom, crawled over me on the bed.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised. “You tell me if it hurts.”

I nodded, wrapping my legs around him. He guided himself to my entrance, rubbing the tip through my slick folds. When he pushed in, I gasped—tight, full, stretched in a way that felt so much.

“You okay?” he asked, jaw tight, holding back.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered. “I want all of it.”

He slid in deeper, inch by inch, filling me completely. He was shaking with the effort to stay in control.

“Jesus, Lucy,” he groaned. “You feel like heaven.”

He started to move—slow thrusts, grinding deeper each time. I felt every stroke, every inch, like my body had been waiting for this. My hands gripped his back, his hair, anything I could reach.

“More,” I begged. “Cassian, please.”

He picked up the pace, hips snapping into mine, eyes locked on my face. My moans turned into cries—raw, loud, needy. His fingers found my clit again, rubbed tight, fast circles until I clenched around him.

“Come for me,” he whispered. “I want to feel it.”

My orgasm hit hard—hips lifting, body trembling, breath lost. I squeezed around him and he groaned, buried deep, and came with a rough growl of my name.

He didn’t move at first. Just stayed inside me, forehead resting against mine, breath hot and ragged.

Then he kissed me—slow and deep—and whispered, “You’re mine now.”