Cass’s Bedroom #2
A jolt of pure, possessive electricity shoots through me, overriding every other sensation. The sharp sting of his teeth on that sacred mark is a command my body obeys without question. All the mortification, the panic, the shame completely dissolves like mist in the sun.
My muscles go limp, my racing heart slows to a steady, calm rhythm, and a soft, contented sigh escapes my lips.
I am his.
He is here.
And that’s all that matters.
I focus on the steady rhythm of Cass’s heart against my back, the gentle sweep of his thumb over my hip. Minutes pass, the tension slowly bleeding out of the room as his knot begins to subside, the intense pressure easing into a dull ache.
Once it completely deflates, Cass shifts.
The movement is careful, but a pained breath catches in his throat as he gently rolls away from me. There's a strange, wet, suctioning sound as his cock finally slips from my body, leaving a sudden, achingly empty void behind him.
A hot gush of our combined release immediately follows, trailing down the inside of my thigh.
The sudden loss of his warmth and weight leaves me feeling cold and exposed on the mattress.
I risk a glance over at the alpha and see him sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me, one hand pressed to his lower back.
His posture is tight, and for the first time, I wonder if the violent pull of his knot had hurt him, too.
I stare at his rigid back for a moment, the ache in my own body forgotten as a new sensation filters through our bond. It's not anger or possessiveness, but a sharp, focused throb of pain emanating from my alpha, and it’s centered low on his left side.
His knee.
"Are you okay?" I ask as I slowly sit.
"I'm fine," he says instantly, his voice clipped and dismissive. He doesn't turn around. He's trying to shut me out, to wall off his pain like he does with everything else.
But our bond doesn't lie.
I can feel the dull, persistent ache radiating from him, a pain he's clearly trying to ignore.
Instinct takes over, and I move, filled with a sudden drive to soothe my mate. I push the tangled sheets aside and crawl across the bed, the cool air a shock against my heated skin.
I kneel behind Cass and carefully drape my body over his broad back, my arms wrapping around his chest. My chin rests on his shoulder, and I press my cheek against the warm skin of his neck, letting my own calm flow through our connection, a silent offering of comfort.
I don't say anything. I just hold him, letting him know that I'm here, that I feel him, and that he doesn't have to be alone with his pain.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, and Cass nods.
I slide my hands down over his chest, careful as I shift my weight, and my gaze drifts to his leg. His left knee is bent slightly, resting against the mattress. Even in the low light, I can see how swollen it still is, but the skin isn’t as red as it was a few days ago.
I study it quietly, my thumb brushing slow, absent-minded circles over Cass’s sternum as I anchor myself to him.
“You’re lying,” I say softly. “It does hurt.”
A huff of breath leaves him. “I’m managing.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
He doesn’t argue with that.
I shift my chin on his shoulder, eyes still on his knee. “How did you get shot?” I ask.
Cass’s entire body goes rigid.
“What?” He turns his head so I can see his profile, shock flashing across his face. “Who told you I was shot?”
I give the alpha a firm look. “Don’t dodge the question.”
His jaw works, teeth grinding like he’s trying to decide whether to shut me out completely or give in. The bond between us tightens, not painful, just taut with tension and something like reluctant surprise.
But I don’t back off. “If you expect me to accept your pack, then you need to let me in too.” I say, before deliberately adding, “Fated mates don’t keep secrets.”
That gets Cass’s attention. His dark blue eyes lift to meet mine, and I stare right back.
I know it’s manipulative to use his own beliefs against him, but I don’t really care. I refuse to be the only one in this house who is expected to be vulnerable.
“Hey.” I shift to remind Cass that I’m still waiting. “I can handle it,” I say, raising my voice in the hopes that I sound stronger than I am. “Tell me what happened.”
For a long moment, he’s silent.
Our bond hums low and tight between us, filled with conflict and something like reluctant respect. I can feel him weighing his options.
Finally, he exhales, slow and rough, like he’s letting go of something. “You don’t fight fair,” he mutters.
I don’t apologize. “Talk,” I say firmly.
Then Cass shifts suddenly.
Before I can react, he reaches back and pulls me forward, guiding me until I’m sitting astride his good leg, settled on the solid muscle of his thigh. My weight sinks into him, my skin still wet with slick and cum. But he doesn't seem to care.
“Fine,” Cass says, his hands firm and sure at my hips, anchoring me there, like he needs me close to say this.
I still.
“We launder money,” he says in the most matter-of-fact tone. “It’s how I’ve made my money for years. Clubs. Bars. Construction. Anything that moves cash.” A pause. “We’re careful. We’re clean. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have enemies.”
My breath catches, but I try like hell not to let it show. “Okay,” I say like it’s no big deal.
“An alpha borrowed a lot of money from us,” Cass continues. “He panicked and thought taking me out would make his problem disappear.”
I feel the shock slam into me hard and fast, bright and disorienting, but I clamp down on it immediately. I grab hold of the emotion like it’s something physical, white-knuckling it, refusing to let it bleed through the bond.
I don’t want Cass to feel it.
Not yet.
“So he shot you,” I say evenly, my voice steady even though I’m freaking out inside.
Cass nods once. “He aimed for my head, but I was able to…” He pauses, then presses his lips into a thin line.
I can already tell I won’t get all the gritty details, and I think I’m okay with that.
“He ended up hitting my knee,” Cass says.
“It could’ve been much worse.” He squeezes my hips. “I got very lucky.”
I’m immediately assaulted with images of Cass on the ground, blood spurting from his leg, his eyes vacant and staring. It does something violent to my heart. It feels like a physical blow, a sickening lurch that steals the air from my lungs.
But I keep my face neutral, my body relaxed where I’m perched on his thigh, forcing myself to focus on the feel of the alpha beneath me. Solid. Safe. Alive.
“What happened to him?” I ask quietly. “The man who shot you.”
“He’s dead,” Cass says simply.
My stomach instantly drops, my mind jumping ahead before I can stop it.
It had to have been Warren or Grason who did it. Grason is much bigger and stronger, but there’s something about Warren. He’s so quiet and controlled. Then again, I barely know him. I haven’t spent enough time around Warren to be sure of anything at all.
“Did Warren kill—”
“No,” Cass cuts me off. “It was nothing like that.” His grip on my hips firms, grounding me. “The asshole had a heart attack two days after shooting me. I never got my revenge.”
Relief rushes through me so fast it makes me lightheaded. “Oh,” I breathe, before I can stop myself. “Thank goodness.”
His brow furrows slightly. “Good?”
I nod, my words tumbling out now. “Revenge just invites more violence. It turns into a cycle. Someone attacks, then that person returns an attack, then again, and again. It never really ends.”
Cass studies me for a long second, thoughtful, not offended. “Sometimes,” he says evenly, “revenge isn’t about getting even. It’s a warning. It keeps the next alpha in line.” He pauses, his gaze turning more serious, more intense. “But other times, it’s a lifeline.”
I tilt my head, not understanding. “A lifeline? How?”
He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, earnest tone.
“Because there is no greater feeling in the world than protecting the people you love. Sometimes, revenge is the most selfless thing you can do. It’s an act of protection, a promise that no one will ever hurt your loved one again.
It’s not about getting even. It’s about making sure they never have to be afraid.
It’s for them. And that… that can save you. ”
I frown, feeling a little bad. “I’m sorry you didn’t get that with the man who shot you.”
Cass smiles, then pushes out a heavy breath. “And I fucking hate that I wasn’t given the chance to warn the next asshole.” His thumb presses lightly into my hip. “But it doesn’t matter,” he adds. “He’s gone. And I’m still here.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say, and the words surprise me as much as they seem to surprise him. The rational part of my brain flares up, shouting warnings, but it’s already too late. My bond with Cass hums warm and steady, biology winning out over logic.
And for now, I let it.
Cass studies me for a beat, something soft breaking his thoughtful expression. “You’re happy I’m here?” His mouth curves into an unmistakably pleased smile.
I press my lips together, fighting one of my own. “I’d be happier if I had some breakfast,” I say, teasing him.
That only makes the alpha’s smile widen as he leans in and cups my face, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. “Such a brat.” Then he kisses me.
Cass’s lips move against mine with a surprising gentleness, but it's undeniably sexy, a slow burn that ignites a fire low in my belly. My body reacts instantly, liquid heat pooling between my legs as I become acutely aware of the hard muscle of his thigh pressed directly against my bare pussy.
I shift, a tiny, involuntary movement, and the friction sends a jolt straight through me.
Cass feels it, letting out a low groan from his chest.