11. I Loathe You
11
I LOATHE YOU
Cassian
The Past
Pine needles and the sharp acrylic of magic dotted the air surrounding Cassian as his feet touched down on dry, butter-colored leaves. Dusk darkened the atmosphere as commotion echoed from the distance.
He rushed to the edge of the tree line, careful to remain hidden while he assessed the situation.
Tombstones encircled a small granite structure just beyond the wooded area. A burial vault. Columns flanked the rusted doors.
Pinned against the vault with his arms severed, Finnian fought against the blades jabbed in each side of his pecs and through both ankles.
Cassian’s pulse spiked at the sight.
Finnian shouted out as Malik thrusted the blade deeper into his ribcage. His hair spilled down his shoulders, strands sticking to the rust-colored splatter marring his cheeks and neck. The chalky shade of his olive complexion and the amount of scarlet blotches muddled across his linen tunic had Cassian wondering how long ago the triplets showed up.
Blood spewed like a crimson stream from the wounds of his severed arms. Strewn off the side, Cassian counted four sets of arms tossed about.
A body lay on the pavement behind them, their limp frame engulfed in a cloak.
A few yards away, Astrid lodged her heel against the sternum of a young woman with ginger strands. “Try any more funny business and I’ll puncture your frail little heart.”
“Isla, run!” Finnian bellowed.
Another woman stood four tombstones away from Vex. She was tall with dark skin and frizzy, brunette curls.
Cassian watched as she arranged her arms to grip a collective of stardust, glittering sunset red, in the shape of a bow and arrow.
She took aim and let the dazzling arrow fly for Vex. His divine speed wasn’t enough to evade it as it pierced through his shoulder, the force knocking him back on his feet.
He rolled his neck, the motion ruffling his wavy, silver strands over his forehead and cheeks. A dark smile split apart his lips, revealing a perfect row of white teeth. “My turn now.” He started towards her.
Isla’s features softened abruptly. She lowered her arms, eyes fixed on Vex in a strange awe. The muscles in her shoulders relaxed. Her lips parted, and she extended her arm to reach for him.
“Isla, look away—” Finnian’s roar was cut off by a horrid choking sound as Malik shoved a blade into his mouth.
“Does it hurt, Finny ?” Malik carved deeper into his throat. Blood gushed like a busted ravine down his chin, over Malik’s knuckles, forming long dribbles between the length of his wrists and boots.
Cassian’s spine went rigid. Consumed by fury, his mind became a twisted labyrinth, conjuring up the most sinister scenarios to inflict upon the triplets.
Taking a step, his divine power swirled around him. His destination was between Malik and Finnian.
A set of fingers curled around Cassian’s bicep and lurched him back before he could teleport.
He recognized the nefarious, nerve-wracking aura that belonged to his brother. “Unhand me, Acacius.”
Acacius let go, stepping back with his hand raised as a gesture of peace. “I sensed you were about to do something foolish. Glad to know I was right.”
Cassian gave Acacius a once-over in his cloaked frame. At his side, he hung onto his beast skull mask by one of its bony horns. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to pay you a visit as you were departing. Mavros told me of your location.” Acacius’s brow pinched as he looked at the chaos in the graveyard and then back at Cassian. “Do not intervene, Brother. Let the mage entrap him.”
It was the wisest choice. Not only that, but it would be inappropriate for a High God of the Council to intervene in trivial matters, such as a family squabble. It was precisely why Cassian had shape-shifted into the appearance of Everett before arriving.
Standing by and watching Malik gut Finnian was also not an option.
Cassian scowled at his brother. “I did not ask for your advice.”
“The Council is counting on you to restore the balance.” He said it as a reminder, a form of guilt-stricken persuasion.
Cassian’s hand came up to his hair, his insides wrenching. “I am aware,” he snapped.
“I can see you care for him,” Acacius said in a softer tone. “Leave it be. This way, you do not have to curse him. ”
Cassian studied the admonishing look Acacius wore. His eyes held a knowing that was almost unbearable.
For a moment, Cassian allowed the future to play out in his head—one where he did nothing. The two young girls would more than likely end up dead. Two individuals who it was clear Finnian cared a great deal for. It was the only explanation for why he was not fighting as recklessly as he typically did.
In the end, the mage, who Cassian presumed was the body lying unconscious, would eventually wake up and entrap him. Things would go back to how they were.
A guttural scream rang out. Tremors rumbled the ground, rattling the tombstones.
Cassian spun to find Finnian’s left arm fully regenerated, his flexed hand raised over his head.
A blinding, webbed chasm birthed from his palm and towered over the cemetery. His fingers curled into a fist and the beaming core at its center exploded outward, erupting into the air like blue magma before sinking into the ground around them. “ Vivifica ! ”
Hands burst through the earth’s surface as if it were made of paper, and corpses emerged from their graves across the cemetery.
“Ah, what a neat little trick.” Acacius crossed his arms and leaned against a tree as he observed with intrigue.
In his entire life, Cassian had never experienced such a strong combination of repulsion and pride. It made sense now why Mavros had not reported any missing souls. Finnian had not been hoarding them in his necklace, like in Augustus. Finnian had honed his power since then, about to pull up the souls and imbue them into their corpses during the moments he needed them. The young god hadn’t stolen those souls—not yet at least.
What a clever brat.
A corpse made up of mostly bone and rotting patches of skin bit into the side of Vex’s neck. He flailed around, trying to sling it off. Nearby, Isla stood idle, gawking at him, stuck under his divine charm.
Another corpse, lodged in the ground mid-torso, caught Astrid by her shin. She puffed in and out of sight, throwing up a vortex of flower petals to surround the other woman lying motionless on the ground. Cassian assumed she, too, had succumbed to a sultry charm. The undead creatures minded the two women with no attention, though.
Malik swiftly cut through Finnian’s shoulder with one of his blades.
A deep grunt escaped Finnian, and he hung his head forward.
With a firm grip on Finnian’s separated limb, Malik swung it forcefully, using it like a club to crush the jaw of another walking corpse. Simultaneously, he threw his second blade into the skull of a fierce wolf, saving the defenseless mage.
“Protect the mage!” he snarled, reaching for more blades sheathed around his waist.
“Our charms do not work on them!” Vex countered, scooping up a handful of gravel and hurling the stones through the corpses’ frail flesh.
“Make him” — Astrid staked her fingertips through a corpse's chest, lodging her arm in elbow-deep — “undo his wretched spell!”
“Such beautiful ruination.” Acacius chuckled, patting Cassian on his shoulder. “Leave with me, Brother. They will handle this amongst each other. The situation will be dealt with. You will not have to curse him. The problem will be solved.”
It felt wrong to imagine a world without Finnian. Something worse than death, for Finnian would be out of his sight. Somewhere Cassian could not look after him, check in on him. The distance, the unknowing—it would drive him mad. Cassian would be forced to act. He did not know the lengths he would go to in order to free Finnian from his entrapment; however, he was certain that he would cross every one of the Council’s lines.
Malik jabbed his blade through Finnian’s gut and twisted. “End the spell or I will carve up your precious apprentices next.”
Cassian watched the uneven stride of Finnian’s chest rising and falling as the back of his head met the exterior of the vault. He was coughing and spitting up blood through his teeth, lip curled, eyes cut down on Malik. Defiance was sharp inside the emerald darkness of his irises.
Cassian’s heart sank into his stomach, knowing whatever Finnian was about to say would only enhance Malik’s bloodlust.
All sense of rationality flatlined as he rolled his shoulder, knocking Acacius’s hand off.
Acacius was stealthy and just as skilled in speed. Once again, he clasped onto Cassian’s arm before he could take another step.
Cassian glared over his shoulder. “Acacius, if you do not unhand me, I will?—”
“I know of the quarrel you have with Ruelle.”
Cassian’s gaze narrowed on him. He did not know what to say. Ruelle was a viper and there was no telling what deception she’d fed to Acacius to twist him in her favor.
Finnian’s magic rose back up from the dirt, reforming the magnificent, neon blue mushroom cloud over the cemetery.
Cassian looked up at it, watching the spell reverse. Slowly, its form separated, a miasma gathering in the sky and parting into mist. It coated the crisp leaves on the ground, dampened Cassian’s hair, nipped at the skin of his arms.
The swarm of corpses stalled in their steps before crumbling into a carpet of bones and decaying flesh. The cool, white fire of their souls gathered one by one beside their mortal frames, resting.
“It is none of your concern,” Cassian said to Acacius, refocusing his gaze on Finnian. The young god buried his chin in his chest again. His surrender unsettled Cassian. Nausea bubbled in his stomach with a need to get to him as quickly as possible.
“Do not give Ruelle someone to hold over you again.”
A bitter scoff burned up Cassian’s throat as he turned to Acacius, boring into the same golden gaze as his own. “Do not think I am na?ve to your feelings of Ruelle. You are only here, begging me to stay within the lines, because you do not wish to stand on the sidelines of our war. Unhand me, Acacius. I will not say it again.”
The muscles in his jaw flexed and the look in his eyes grew stale. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Brother.”
Releasing Cassian’s arm, a midnight blue shadow banded around his backside. He slid the animal skull over his face as its tendrils coiled around his frame.
A disfigured slice sounded, and he was gone.
“Good boy.” Malik jutted the sharp end of his knife against Finnian’s cheek. “Now, wake the mage. You know how to counter whatever spell your nasty little apprentice cast.”
“Go…” Finnian croaked, lifting his chin, “fuck yourself.”
“Very well.” Malik twisted his torso to face Astrid, beckoning her with the jerk of his head. “Bring her to me.”
Astrid flicked her chin towards Malik. “Go,” she ordered the girl with ginger locks.
The girl lifted from the ground and started forward, expression fully vacant.
Finnian’s eyes widened. “Malik,” he wheezed. “I’ll—do it.”
Malik twirled his knife with a disturbing smirk. “I must say, it is a joy to watch you bleed.” He cocked his elbow back, the glint of the blade catching on the lampposts stationed at the edge of the mausoleum, aiming it directly for Finnian’s face.
Enough of this.
Cassian’s form flickered with the taste of vengeance strong on his tongue. It surged within him like a conviction.
He materialized before Malik, the tip of his blade meeting the seam of Cassian’s pec.
Cassian caught Malik by his wrist, stopping the blade from piercing through his shirt.
With his backside pressed against Finnian, he did his best to hold his weight on the base of his toes to avoid crushing the young god.
Malik came closer, unknowingly lowering his head into the jaws of a monster. “Unless you have a death wish, I suggest you remove yourself from my sight.”
Cassian had never paid the triplets much attention during his visits to Kaimana. Up this close, though, he could pinpoint the similarities between their faces and Finnian’s—the hollow cheeks, pronounced brow bone, and the same honey-amber complexion. The only resemblance of their kinship. Beyond those few traits, he could see the cat-like eyes of Mira, her superior ego, and her coldness embedded like a web around their souls. Not a trace of their father’s kind, empathetic nature.
Cassian would gladly teach them a lesson.
He leaned into the blade, puncturing a hole through the suede material of his tailcoat and through the meat and flesh of his chest. With a chilling curve to his lips, Cassian said, “You and your childish toys do not frighten me.”
The rush of his divine power thrummed in his blood as he set it forth onto the god.
Malik staggered away, mouth opening and closing like a fish begging for air. The magnitude of a spiraling illusion ensnared him.
How would a middle god of slaughter feel without satisfaction in his kills?
“Brother!” Astrid charged forth in a flurry of pink rose petals.
Cassian plucked the blade from his skin and tossed it aside, his eyes flashing up on the blur of silver locks charging towards him. “You’re next.”
A honeysuckle fragrance filled his nostrils. She reappeared with her hand on his shirt, her chest pushing against him, her eyes, two pools of black, reaching into his. A delicate lullaby hummed in his ear, the melody sensual and lighting his bloodstream like a match, lulling lustful urges into his thoughts. How her breasts would feel in his palm, her hand around his?—
Cassian cupped her jawline and stuck his thumb in between her lips.
She lightly bit down on his skin and fingernail with a teasing smile.
Ignoring the allurement of her charm, Cassian pressed the pad of his thumb down on her tongue, forcing her mouth open.
His divine power shot like oil down her throat.
She gasped.
Cassian removed his thumb from her tongue and watched as she scraped down his torso and fell to her knees in a strangled mess of breath and trembling limbs.
How would it feel to no longer enthrall the eyes and hearts of those in her presence?
Vex raced forward. One step in and Cassian’s divine power coiled around his head from behind, like tiny, blackened mambas prying into his face. It yanked him back and seized through his eyes.
He let out a broken cry.
How would it feel to be alone? Hideous and meaningless to everyone?
Cassian fixed his attention back on Malik. “If you do not get out of my sight, I can assure you, death will be something you beg for.”
Malik’s eyes flitted around with fear, unable to focus on his surroundings. Without muttering another tasteless remark, he vanished in a puff.
Astrid crawled, feeling around the pavement as if she were blind, until she found the arm of the unconscious mage. They both disappeared, leaving behind a tailspin of pink flowers. Vex quickly followed behind them.
Once they left, Cassian whirled around and clenched the knife hilts embedded in Finnian, trapping him against the vault. He removed them one by one. “What were you thinking? Taking on all of them this way? You are only one god!”
Finnian rested his head back on the stone, eyes tracking Cassian’s movements. One arm had regenerated to the elbow, while the one Malik had recently severed was still a trunk. “I called on my ghouls. The situation was under control.”
Apparently his tongue had grown back just fine.
At the mention of the corpses, slumped and laying across the graveyard, Cassian paused and snapped his fingers.
From the trees, a dark mass descended, swallowing each floating orb in its path.
Finnian watched as the blackness ate away at the corpses, cradling the delicate orbs of the souls, and carrying them away.
“My, what a thorn in my side you have become,” he muttered.
Cassian ignored him and tossed the last of the knives aside. “And what would have happened had that mage successfully entrapped you?”
Finnian pushed off the wall and around Cassian. “I would have figured it out.”
Cassian followed him. “How? Unless there is a way a mage can perform magic while entrapped that I am unaware of?”
Footfalls sounded from ahead.
The woman with ginger hair threw her arms around Finnian. “I am so relieved you are okay!” She cried into his neck.
Finnian offered her an awkward pat on the back with his forearm, as his hand still hadn’t grown back. “Eleanor, please remove yourself at once.”
Isla approached, smiling, and lightly prying the woman off. “Eleanor, you know Master Finnian does not enjoy such affection.”
“That is the least of my concerns at the moment!” She wiped at her eyes, smearing dirt and blood along her freckled cheeks. “We could have died, but he saved us!” Sniveling, her face twisted as she seethed. “If I ever run into that silver-haired bitch again…”
“Eleanor, you are injured.” Finnian brushed forward to inspect the gash on her forehead. “Do you recall the spell I taught you yesterday?”
“Of course!” She beamed and raised her hand. “ Corpus emundare .” She swiveled her wrist.
The spell cleansed each of their skin of muck and blood, making it much easier for Finnian to examine Eleanor’s wound.
Cassian gauged the stained material of Finnian’s shirt, observing closely as his stab wounds slowly stitched back up. Then, Cassian’s eyes roved up to Finnian’s long hair, wondering if Malik had destroyed the magical device in his ear.
Finnian rotated to Isla. His right hand had fully repaired itself. “Go inside. Give her a regenerative potion. Take one yourself.” He flicked one of her frizzy curls from her face.
“What about you?” Eleanor interjected, dramatically gesturing to his missing limb. “Your arm is gone !”
“My arm will grow back,” he drawled. “Now go. The both of you.”
Cassian studied Finnian’s body language, noting how he did not angle his head a certain way or mistake their words. Surely, without the assistance of his hearing aid, he would be showing a subtle indication.
“Who are you?” Eleanor stepped up to Cassian, her wide hazel eyes probing with curiosity.
His stomach dipped, and he quickly reminded himself of his disguise as Everett. “I?—”
Finnian shot him a glare.
Isla eyed him and grabbed Eleanor’s hand, tugging her forward. “Eleanor, let’s go. Your wound is bleeding again.”
As they passed, Isla gave Cassian a smile and dipped her head in parting.
They ascended the steps to the arched doorway of the vault.
“You were careless,” Cassian continued to chide.
Finnian scoffed out a clipped breath, his expression arranged in an annoyed manner. “Why are you here?”
His indifferent attitude towards the situation infuriated Cassian. Did he not understand the severity? Had he not shown up, what would have happened?
“You are mine to chase, to fight with,” Cassian snapped. “Nobody else’s.”
A spiteful smile broke apart his lips, flashing his teeth. “Who knew the High God of Death and Curses to be so possessive?”
Cassian’s cheeks kindled. “Stop talking. You are hurt.” He swept his eyes over his left arm, not yet fully regrown, dripping blood over the fallen leaves.
Finnian rolled his eyes, not at all fazed by the physical pain. “I am healing. I am fine.”
Cassian lifted his hand to tend to the wound of his arm, desperate to staunch it, to halt the bleeding.
Finnian recoiled, his magic pulsing in waves and raising the hair on Cassian’s nape.
Cassian’s hand stopped midair, studying the flash of fear dilating in his pupils. “After all of that, you still have some fight left in you.” He dropped his arm, taking in the rough edges of the young god’s features, and grinned. “Impressive, Little Nightmare.”
At the use of the nickname, Finnian’s nostrils flared. “You swoop in to fight away the predators threatening your prey. Do not take me for a fool. I have no intention of being cursed by you today. That is why you are here, correct?”
It was a question Cassian did not wish to confront yet. “I was simply trying to staunch the bleeding. If you do not wish for me to touch you, then regenerate your wound faster!”
“After Malik cut my arms off for the eighth time, the task became exhausting.”
“Why didn’t you teleport away?”
“Only someone superior to death would think so frivolously,” Finnian said with contempt. “I do not abandon those I care about. Eleanor and Isla were in danger. My sudden move would have resulted in the triplets killing them without hesitation.”
His sense of loyalty truly dumbfounded Cassian, given the dark sorcery he practiced. “If they died, you could have performed your necromancy on them.”
“I do not enjoy turning things into ghouls!” Finnian came closer, voice raising.
“Then simply stop turning things into ghouls!” Cassian shouted back.
Finnian leveled him with an obstinate glare. “Are you going to return my father?”
Exhaustion pulled Cassian’s hands up into his hair. He inhaled a sharp breath, squeezing his strands at the roots. “Do you think I wanted to curse my best friend?” He slapped a hand on his own chest. “Your father committed a crime that not even I could save him from. The Council demanded him to be locked away in Moros, but I could not stomach such a twisted fate for a god as good as Vale. You have my apology. I wish I could have done things differently. Please believe me when I tell you that.”
A beat of silence passed as Finnian searched his face. Cassian couldn’t tell what he was thinking, if he believed his apology to be genuine.
“Give him back then,” Finnian said, tone solemn and gratingly stubborn.
Cassian dropped his arms, feeling more haggard than he had in decades. “There are rules even I cannot break.”
Something wicked flashed in Finnian’s gaze, a recognition or dawning of some kind. He cocked his head, the movement stirring an uneasiness in Cassian as he leaned in. “You follow me, you threaten me, try to curse me, and you save me. You exude a power of the Highest of High Gods, and yet here we are, standing mere inches from one another. You could curse me, you could drag me back to your prison and make me suffer for the crime I have committed amongst Death and your precious souls. Yet, you do not. Something hinders you from doing so.”
Cassian turned away with the need to flee. He’d intervened, and now Finnian was safe. He had no other reason to be there.
Finnian caught him by the crisp collar of his waistcoat and shoved him against the wall of the vault.
Cassian’s feet fumbled underneath him, too stunned by Finnian’s sudden touch to consider fighting him off.
Finnian bound his forearm across Cassian’s sternum, clenching the material of his collar. “Your indecisiveness is maddening.”
An intense energy sparked in the air between them, and Cassian suddenly became aware of the breath they shared. This close, Finnian’s eyes were green like the moss Vale grew along the stones of Moros. I wish to decorate a place so dreary , he’d said the first time Cassian brought it up.
Cassian could bridge the small wedge of space keeping them apart if he were to tip forward and...
He licked his lips, feeling his cheeks flush.
Averting his eyes, he said, “Do you think I wish to feel this way?”
Finnian didn’t respond right away, prompting Cassian’s gaze to return to him.
He stared at Cassian’s mouth, his eyes darkening.
Heat dropped low in Cassian’s stomach.
“Decide what you want, but stop toying with me.” His gaze flitted up to meet Cassian’s, sharp and full of intent. “I will never stop raising souls from the dead.”
In his declaration, there was loneliness, anguish. All Cassian desired was to unearth the harshest secrets of his soul and merge them with his own.
“Because it is all you have,” Cassian finished, voice low, yielding to Finnian’s feelings.
He snatched Cassian’s chin between his thumb and index finger, and dipped in closer, glowering through hooded eyes. “I loathe you,” he said through curled lips.
His breath warmed Cassian’s mouth. Desire saturated in his bloodstream, slurring the voice of reason begging him to disappear—to go home and never chase after the young god again. Yet, all he could focus on was Finnian’s fingers bruising his skin.
“I loathe you just as much,” Cassian whispered.
I long for you , is what he wanted to say instead.
The tension between them surged. Their eyes remained locked. Cassian’s stomach flipped from the sensation of tiny currents zapping at his cheeks. Magic. Coming from Finnian?—
He yanked Cassian forward by his chin and swallowed his gasp with a kiss.
Shock jarred his system, stunting his movements, consumed by the heat pouring down his throat.
Finnian tasted like alkaline, like something sweet and earthy, and Cassian devoured it, guzzled it down deep until he was made of nothing but the taste.
Finnian’s tight hold relaxed around his chin, and he spread his palm over Cassian’s cheek, hooking his thumb underneath his jawline. A primal instinct awoke in Cassian that razed the strategically structured pillars of his self-control.
He sucked in a breath through his nose and threw an arm around Finnian’s waist, pulling him into his chest. Their bodies curved together and burned as one. The strong stride of Finnian’s heartbeat thundered against Cassian’s ribcage.
The kiss was greedy. Lips fused together. Tongues grazed teeth. An enchantment hummed under Cassian’s skin. Sensations fluttered in his stomach.
All the thoughts that plagued him stilled. Silence stretched out across his mind. The never-ending to-do list. Ruelle. Balance. The state of his realm and his souls. Operation and order. All of it shattered into dying white noise, a welcoming static between blood and bone. Nothing before had been able to captivate his full attention the way Finnian so easily did in that moment.
Finnian’s tongue danced over his bottom lip. An inferno burned in his abdomen and he locked his fingers around Finnian’s nape, drawing him in and kissing him harder.
He slipped his hand beneath the hem of Finnian’s shirt and spliced his fingers across the middle of his back, stroking up the side of Finnian’s torso, over the ridges of his ribs.
Finnian retracted his tongue from Cassian’s mouth and bit down on the cushion of his bottom lip, stretching the skin. Tingles fluttered up Cassian’s spine.
He lifted his other hand up into Finnian’s long strands and forced his head back. His thumb slightly extended, grazing over the solid crystal still safely inside the canal of Finnian’s ear. A confirmation that made Cassian feel better, knowing Malik had not destroyed it.
Finnian scraped his teeth across the nerves and skin of Cassian’s lip. A pain mixed with an insatiable pleasure. The sensation made him twitch against the inside of his trousers.
An intense gathering welled up behind his navel. He brought his mouth down onto Finnian’s neck, tracing his tongue up the curvature of his throat, nipping and marking his skin to leave proof, if only for a second, before the bruises healed.
Finnian rolled his hips, grinding his hard length against Cassian’s pelvis.
Cassian dragged in a breath against the skin of Finnian’s neck. A tremor shot deep into his belly as his heart sped up like a butterfly caught in his chest.
He licked up Finnian’s throat, ravishing in the sensation of the young god’s quickened pulse on his tongue.
Finnian wedged his knee in between Cassian’s thighs and softly rubbed against his arousal.
Cassian let out a gruff hiss across the side of his neck.
Finnian froze.
The sound was loud in the silence of their kiss; the transition was sharp and instant.
Cassian’s thoughts starkly came rushing back in. From the battleground of feelings waging war in his subconscious to the contentment he felt in this moment with Finnian. What would happen now? What was Finnian thinking?
Finnian forced them apart with a small shove to Cassian’s chest.
His brain raced to process the last few minutes through the haze of his lust. The smoothness of Finnian’s skin, twisting his fingers through Finnian’s hair, and the way Finnian’s hunger flourished when Cassian had kissed his throat. Cassian wanted him. More of him. A terrifying expansion of the desire he failed miserably to ignore. Now it had grown tenfold.
The taste of Finnian lingered on his tongue as he stared at the god, tracking every visible sign of emotion his face willingly gave away—bruised lips parted, breathless, creases drawn over his forehead, staring back through glazed eyes.
“Finnian,” Cassian said.
A hard look flashed over his features at the sound of his name. “No.” He took another step away, his expression sharp. “Do not seek me out again. I mean it. Either curse me now or be done with it.”
His hatred, the conflicting resonance in which he spoke, made all the sense in the world. Cassian, the High God, who had taken his father away, showed him affection. After all these years of chasing him, tricking him, and now saving him. Finnian was right. Cassian could no longer go on pretending to be conflicted about the matter.
The truth glared down at him like the sun.
Cassian took a breath. The oxygen traveled deeper than it had in years. He lifted from the side of the vault.
Finnian flinched, but he did not move away, fully prepared to be branded.
Cassian wanted to embrace him. Let his feelings flow freely from his lips. What would Finnian say? Would he feel the same? What would happen then?
Do not give Ruelle someone to hold over you again.
Acacius’s warning echoed to the forefront of his mind, extinguishing the warmth in his veins.
He held Finnian’s reserved gaze, wishing he could convey a sliver of the adoration he felt towards him. “I do not have it in me to curse you.” The confession unraveled the ball of pressure in his chest.
Finnian’s eyes flitted around his face, frowning.
An ache spindled in Cassian’s heart as he nodded once. “I will not bother you again.” He backed away, his limbs growing heavy.
Finnian threw out an arm. “W?—”
Before Finnian could reach him, a grueling crack reverberated, and Cassian was gone .