Chapter 25 #2
“Of course,” Cassara said. “But if you’ll excuse me, I need a moment of air.”
She didn’t wait for permission.
Cassara turned from the dais and walked with calm, measured steps through the gathering crowd until she was able to slip through one of the side doors and toward a stone archway that opened onto the darkened upper terrace.
She exhaled slowly, palms braced on the cold marble of the terrace rail, her gaze tracing the constellations suspended above Vallemont’s gleaming towers. Behind her, nobles danced, toasts were raised, alliances were brokered. The pageantry of power played on inevitably.
But here, in this quiet pocket of darkness just beyond the ballroom’s reach, she could finally breathe.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
Cassara spun, her heart leaping into her throat.
Auren emerged from the shadows. His eyes, when they found hers, burned with something too fierce to be mistaken for indifference.
“Careful,” she said, her voice quiet. “Someone might see.”
“They already saw,” he murmured, stopping just before her. “You, on his arm.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” she said, turning her face back to the wind. “My father’s here. So are the Tremaines. It’s a performance.”
“I know.” His voice dropped. “That’s what makes it worse.”
Cassara’s hands clenched against the stone. “You think I wanted to dance with him? Smile for him? Pretend I’m proud to be paraded around like a well-trained pet?”
“I think,” Auren said, stepping closer, “you shouldn’t have to play this game at all.”
She felt his hand curl around her waist as the other ghosted up her spine, fingers brushing the delicate gold chains that hung there.
Cassara turned to face him only to discover there was no space left between them, only the press of heat and the sharp awareness of every inch of bare skin his palm touched.
“You look,” he said, voice low and dark with want, “like sin wrapped in starlight.”
Her breath caught.
“This dress,” he murmured. “Do you have any idea what it’s doing to me? Watching you move in it, knowing that beneath all this silk and gold, you’re the same woman who came apart in my arms?”
“And you’re making it very, very difficult,” he continued, lips brushing her cheek, “not to kiss you until your legs forget how to work.”
Heat flooded her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “We can’t do this here.”
“Can’t we?” His hand slid lower, fingers burning through the thin silk as they traced the curve of her hip. “Right now I’m finding it hard to care about anything except you.”
“Liar.” The word slipped out sharper than intended. “You care more than anyone.”
He stilled against her.
“You’re thinking about my reputation,” she continued, voice softening. “About what happens to me if we’re discovered. You always are.”
A rueful smile played across his lips. “You know me too well.”
“So when you say you don’t care about propriety,” she traced a finger along his collar, “what you really mean is you’re trying very hard not to care. There’s a difference.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted, though his grip on her didn’t loosen. “But do you know what I was thinking about during that dance? When I watched him hold you too close, touch you like he owned you?”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
“I was thinking about all the ways I could make Julian Tremaine disappear,” he said, and there was something in his voice that suggested he wasn’t entirely joking. “Make it look like an accident, of course. A training mishap. Very tragic.”
“Auren—”
“Hypothetically speaking,” he added. “I’m far too responsible an instructor to actually follow through. Wouldn’t want to set a bad example.”
Despite everything, she found herself fighting a smile. “How considerate of you.”
“I am the picture of restraint,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth that proved exactly the opposite. “Most of the time.”
“They’ll miss me,” she said weakly, even as her hands came up to rest on his chest. “Julian will come looking.”
“Will he?” Auren’s lips found the sensitive spot below her ear. “Because from what I saw, he was plenty absorbed with your fathers’ scheming.”
Auren’s lips traced along her throat. “One more minute,” he murmured against her skin. “Give me one more minute to memorize every inch of you I can.”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
His mouth found hers, hot and hungry, as his hand slid to the small of her back, drawing her impossibly closer, until there was nothing between them but heat and silk and the sound of her gasp as he kissed her like he’d been starving for it.
Her hands slid up into his hair, fingers twisting in soft strands as her back hit the stone railing.
The gold chains pressed cool against her skin, a sharp contrast to the fever building between them.
When his teeth scraped her lower lip, she whimpered, soft, involuntary, and Auren groaned like he’d been holding back too long.
He pulled back just enough to speak, forehead resting against hers.
“Say the word,” he said, voice ragged. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Cassara’s chest heaved, but she couldn’t say it.
Instead, she ran her hands down his chest, over the firm lines of muscle hidden beneath the fine fabric. “They’re going to come looking if—”
“I’ll cause a distraction.”
“You are the distraction.”
“You came out here for air,” he said, his lips brushing her jaw. “You can have mine.”
He kissed her again, slower this time. His lips lingering as if gentleness might save them both from everything they couldn’t say. As if despite everything, the danger, the eyes, the future, this moment still mattered. Still belonged to them.
And it did.
But eventually, she pulled back, trembling and flushed, her lip still tingling where he’d kissed her raw. “Later,” she whispered, palm flat on his chest. “I’ll come to you later.”
His eyes closed for half a second, like he was trying to memorize her just as she was. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
He kissed her forehead, then her temple, then stepped back into shadow.
Cassara waited a moment longer, allowing her racing heart to settle before making her own retreat.
She hadn’t moved three steps before Julian found her, eyes narrowed. But Cassara only offered him her sweetest smile.
“I’ve been looking for you. Mother said you ran off.”
“I needed some air,” Cassara replied. “It’s almost time for the Revealing Ceremony. Shall we?”
And just like that, the performance resumed. But behind the mask, her lips still tingled and her heart no longer felt like it was in someone else’s hands.
They were halfway across the ballroom when Auren intercepted.
For a moment, Cassara’s heart stopped. Was he going to challenge him? Right there in front of everyone? Fear gripped her, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that sparked deep in her chest.
She couldn’t meet his gaze, afraid that if she did she would betray herself. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and unbothered.
“Miss Allencourt, Mr. Tremaine, first years are to report to the holding chamber in preparation for the Revealing Ceremony,” he said, motioning towards a door several other students were already gravitating towards.
The breath she had been holding escaped in a low rush and she nodded. He offered a short bow and then moved on without another word.
“Charming,” Julian murmured, adjusting his cuffs. “Nothing quite like watching grown men reduced to herding first-years like livestock.”
“How fitting,” Cassara replied with a sweet smile. “I suppose that makes us livestock. Though I’m curious which category you’d place yourself in. Pig perhaps?”
Julian scoffed. “I prefer to think of myself as the one who owns the farm.”
Cassara let the comment hang between them as they joined the stream of first-years moving toward the eastern corridor. Around them, nervous chatter filled the air, but she barely heard it over the memory of Auren’s voice, the way he’d looked at her without looking at her at all.
The flow of students carried them forward through wide double doors that had been draped in academy banners and past upperclassmen checking names against scrolls.
Julian’s presence beside her felt like a weight she couldn’t shake, his earlier words echoing with the kind of casual ownership that made her want to vomit.
But as they were directed toward the staging area, she forced herself to focus on what lay ahead rather than the arrogance radiating from the boy at her side.
They were being gathered into a holding chamber behind the arched eastern corridor. Beyond the curtain, the space had been transformed from a ballroom into a theater.
Ringed arrangements of circular seating were spaced at even intervals, each table bearing the emblem of a noble house, of an instructor’s domain, or a visiting dignitary’s crest.
Mage-lights floated in staggered tiers overhead, their golden glow caught in the shimmering glyphs etched into the polished obsidian floor, forming a spiraled path that curved gently around a central stage.
At the far end, atop a tiered dais, stood Headmistress Kalisandra, draped in Vallemont crimson, her silver hair swept into a crown of living flame. No ornament, only spellwork. She held no script, needed no fanfare. Her presence alone commanded the silence.
“Welcome, honored guests, council members, and sponsors of Vallemont Beast Tamer Academy,” she began, her voice carrying across the room without enchantment. “Tonight, you witness more than pageantry. You witness promise. Bond. Legacy.”
A hush settled across the hall.
“Each of our first-year tamers has, by now, forged a link with a creature that reflects their spirit. Their strength. Their weaknesses. Their future.” Her gaze cut sharply toward the hidden corridor where the students waited.
“You will see not only beasts tonight, but the shape of the years to come. The future of your alliances. The next generation of Vallemont’s elite. ”