6. Casandra
“You’re in a hurry,” Lukas notes, effortless as he swings his leather bag over his shoulder and matches my stride as I make my way out of the auditorium.
“I have things to do, Lukas. Unlike you, I’m actually here to study.” I don’t look back. I can hear the heavy, rhythmic thud of boots behind us but I keep my eyes on the exit.
“Is that so?” Lukas follows me out of the auditorium. He is persistent, a silver-tongued shadow I can’t seem to shake. “Where are we going? I can walk you to your room.”
I stop dead in my tracks. If Lukas walks me to the apartment, he’ll see the sitter. He’ll hear the laughter of a three-year-old boy. And Lukas is far too smart to believe Darius is just a random relative. He’ll put the pieces together before we even reach the doorstep.
“No,” I say, perhaps a bit too sharply.
Lukas raises an eyebrow, a small, curious glint in his glacial eyes. “No? You live in West Wing, right? It’s a long walk, Cass.”
Behind him, I see Nikolai emerge from the classroom. He halts, his nostrils flaring as he sees us standing so close. He looks like he is vibrating with the effort not to roar. If I go back to the apartment now, Lukas will follow, and Nikolai will likely follow him. It will be a disaster.
I need a diversion. And I need to keep Lukas away from my front door.
“You know what,” I say, forced into a casual shrug. “I’m going to grab a coffee. You can come, if you insist.”
Lukas’s smirk returns, slow and triumphant. He knows he’s won a round, even if he doesn’t know why. “There’s a coffee place on campus decent brew—not quite what you had in Karlstad, but it’ll do.”
“Lead the way,” I mutter.
As we turn toward the courtyard, I feel Nikolai’s presence shift. He doesn’t follow us but the growl he lets out is low and warning.
I lean closer to Lukas, purely for the benefit of the watching Prince. “So, Alpha. Tell me. Does your father know you’re spending your day chasing fucking vampires, or are you just a natural rebel?”
Lukas laughs, a rich, genuine sound that draws the eyes of every student we pass. “My father knows I have a taste for the finer things, Casandra. And right now? You’re the only thing in this school worth a second look.”
I smile, though my heart is still hammering against my ribs. Darius is safe. For now, at least.
The courtyard is a labyrinth of manicured hedges and stone benches, the air sharp with the scent of pine and oncoming rain. Lukas leads me toward a small coffee shop, his hand hovering just inches from the small of my back—not quite touching, but close enough to claim the space.
“So,” Lukas says, his voice dropping into that intimate, conspiratorial tone. “About Karlstad. I’ve often wondered why a Corvin would choose a quiet university in V?rmland. Was it the scenery, or were you—”
“Enough with the interrogation, Lukas.” I stop and lean against a stone pillar. “I wanted a life that wasn’t defined by bloodlines and ancient debts. For a while, I had it. It’s that simple.”
Lukas steps closer, his glacial eyes searching mine. “I don’t think anything about you is simple, Cass. That’s why Nikolai is currently three seconds away from a literal meltdown.”
I don’t have to ask what he means.
The air behind us suddenly feels heavy, charged with the kind of static that precedes a lightning strike. The scent of kanelbullar—warm, sweet, and now jagged with aggression—slams into my senses.
“Lukas.”
Nikolai is standing five feet away, his frame casting a long, jagged shadow over the stone. He looks feral. His knuckles are white, his jaw set so tight I think his teeth might shatter. His eyes aren’t blue anymore; they are a pulsing, molten gold that seems to burn through the afternoon mist.
Lukas doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look bothered. He just turns his head slightly, a small, bored smile on his lips. “Nikolai. I thought you had a council meeting to plan. Or perhaps a chair to repair?”
Nikolai ignores the jab. His gaze snaps to mine, and for a second, the sheer intensity of his longing makes my breath hitch. The invisible thread in my chest gives a violent, painful yank.
“Move,” Nikolai commands, his voice vibrating with a low-frequency growl.
“I’m sorry?” Lukas asks, his eyebrows shooting up in mock confusion. “Are you speaking to me, or the lady?”
“I’m speaking to you, Lukas,” Nikolai hisses, stepping into Lukas’s personal space. He is taller, broader, a mountain of raw power compared to Lukas’s refined agility. “She’s my mate. Get. Away. From her.”
I feel the prick of anger in my veins. I push off the pillar, stepping between them before Nikolai can shift and start a bloodbath in the middle of the campus.
“Your mate?” I repeat, my voice a whip-crack of irony. “That’s funny. I distinctly remember you calling me a fucking vampire yesterday. I don’t remember the part where you earned the right to tell me who I can have coffee with.”
Nikolai’s gaze drops to mine, the gold in his eyes flickering with a momentary flash of shame before it is swallowed by anger and possessiveness. He reaches out, his fingers trembling with the urge to touch me, but I flinch away.
“You are a fucking vampire!” He finally snaps. “You don’t understand the... the pull. My wolf. He’s screaming. He wants—”
“I don’t care what your wolf wants, Nikolai,” I say, my voice ice-cold. I feel Lukas’s hand settle firmly on my shoulder in a deliberate provocation.
Nikolai’s eyes track the movement, and his upper lip curls back to reveal his fangs. A sound tears from his throat—a roar that silences every bird in the courtyard and sends nearby students scrambling for cover.
“Take your hand off her,” Nikolai roars, “before I tear it off your body.”
Lukas doesn’t flinch, but I can feel the tension in his muscles, the Alpha in him rising to meet the challenge. “She’s not a piece of territory, Nikolai. And if you’ve already rejected her, she’s fair game for anyone with better taste than you.”
Nikolai lunges.