31. Vivienne #2
Something clatters to the floor, and I look up as Cassian enters Rhya’s stall. His face is hard and unrelenting, his eyes angry and cold. “Is that what you think?”
“What?” I say, startled and slightly terrified. I’ve rarely seen him look this angry.
“You think I moved on?”
My heart pounds like Rhya’s hooves on the heath. He’s standing so close, I could reach out and touch his drenched sweatshirt. Instead, I curl my fingers into a fist. My other hand still clutches Rhya’s brush, although what I’m supposed to do with it, I couldn’t say. Cass has knocked me speechless.
He moves toward me, and I’m too frozen to take a step back.
His body heat swirls around me, wrapping me in a warm cashmere blanket of his scent.
“I didn’t move on. I haven’t moved on.” He reaches up to lift a wet strand of hair that’s glued itself to my face and tucks it behind my ear. “And I suspect I never will.”
My lips part—in surprise, in invitation, I don’t even know. The only thing I can think about is Cass standing so close I could kiss him, and him saying he hasn’t moved on from the last time I did that.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper.
His eyes fill with pain, and his entire face softens as he stares down at me. “You’re getting married, Vivvy, and it is killing me. Absolutely killing me.”
I can’t hear anything but my heart thumping wildly in my chest. Thump, thump, thump.
I feel Rhya shift beside me, but I can’t tear my eyes from Cass’s.
There’s a thin gold ring at the edge of his irises, and I suddenly can’t remember if it’s always been there or not.
I feel as if the Cassian I’m looking at is completely different from the one I’ve known my whole life.
“Cass, I . . .” I can’t finish the sentence. My mouth is as dry as cotton.
“Please don’t,” he says, holding up his hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Of course you don’t. You only want what’s easy. And me telling you I’m in love with you is anything but easy.” The words burn on my tongue as tears sting my eyes.
He squeezes his eyes shut, as if that is all it will take to erase my words. “Vivvy, please.”
“Why?” I shove against his chest. “Why don’t you want me to tell you?”
“Because it won’t change anything!”
I take a step back, as stunned as if he’d spat at me. Blinking, I shake my head as though it will somehow make the pieces fall into a pattern I can understand. “I see,” I say quietly.
“Don’t do that,” he snaps. “Don’t put on a fucking mask with me.”
“Then what would you like for me to do?” I ask calmly. My emotions—anger, hurt, fear, grief—are roiling like the sea during a storm, so I focus on the strings of his hoodie.
“I want you to say what you think, not hide it because you think you have to.”
I choke on a mirthless laugh. “You literally just told me not to tell you how I feel.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.” He moves closer. “Let’s just forget this whole conversation, okay?”
“You mean the way you tried to forget about our kiss? About me?” My voice grows stronger.
His eyes narrow to dangerous slits. “I couldn’t forget you if you cut my heart out of my chest.”
“Then why?” I say, more a sob than anything else.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he grumbles.
“Because I’m just a naive child who doesn’t know how the world works?”
“No, because you’re a princess who has everything she could possibly want.” His voice echoes through the barn, and Rhya whinnies. He doesn’t even cast her a glance, his eyes locked on mine.
“Is that what you really think?” I say in a hushed tone.
“What else am I supposed to think?”
I shake my head. “You’re so clueless. The only thing I want is you.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Cass says, stretching his hoodie pocket. “If that was true, you wouldn’t be wearing that hundred-thousand-dollar diamond right now.”
I stare down at the huge rock on my hand, which feels heavier than it’s ever been. When I finally look back up at Cass, his eyes have gone hooded, shadows hiding his thoughts. “Do you think I want to marry Landon?” I whisper.
He scoffs, as if the question is beneath him. “You’re wearing his ring, aren’t you?
“I am,” I say, nodding. “Because my parents decided he was the one for me. My mother, specifically, chose him and introduced us.”
The emotion drains from Cass’s face. He blinks at me in a stupor. “What?”
I bite the side of my mouth to keep from crying and give a quick shrug. “What more do you want me to say? Our marriage was arranged by my parents.”
Cass looks as though he could be knocked over by a stiff breeze and is a bit green at the edges. “People still do that?”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”
He shakes his head as if he can’t believe how much I’ve disappointed him. “You agreed to an arranged marriage because you don’t even have the backbone to stand up for yourself about something that important. I’m not sure there’s anything left to say.”
The truth of it stings, as I knew it would. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I’ll always end up letting someone down.
“I never would’ve agreed to marry Landon if I thought I stood a chance with you,” I say.
“That’s a load of crock, Viv, and you know it. You didn’t say yes because he was your only choice. You said yes because it was what your parents wanted.”
He’s probably right, but that doesn’t change the circumstances. I’m engaged to Landon because Cass made me think there was no future for us. “I don’t always do what they want.” I jut out my chin.
“Oh, yeah? Prove it.” His eyes dance with challenge. He thinks I don’t have the courage to stand up for myself, but that’s where he’s wrong.
Dropping Rhya’s brush, I close the distance between us.
When Cassian realizes what I’m about to do, he brings his hands up to my face, stopping me before I can kiss him.
Disappointment and anger mingle in my veins, and I lunge at him, desperate for him to let me prove that I’m not just someone else’s puppet.
He holds me fast, but he doesn’t push me away. “Vivvy,” he breathes out. “Is this really what you want or are you just lashing out?”
My body aches for him, my nipples already stiff peaks beneath my wet shirt. “You’re the only thing I want.”
Staring down at my mouth, his tongue flicks out and licks his lips once, twice. “I’ve spent the past three years wondering if you still taste as good as I remember, or if you’ve somehow—impossibly—gotten even better.”
“Maybe you should find out,” I whisper.
“Vivvy,” he says with a groan, but I see his resolve waver.
I press closer, and he goes rigid against me.
“Fuck it.” He claims my mouth and devours me the way a starving man devours a banquet. His fingers thread into my hair, his rings catching on strands of it, but the pain doesn’t even register.
The warmth of his palm against my cheek chases away any lingering chill from the rain, and I lean into him, clutching his sweatshirt with both fists in case he tries to run away. His scent overwhelms my senses, and the taste of him—god, the taste of him. I’ll never get over it as long as I live.
He pulls back, and for one awful second, I’m scared he’s going to leave, but he only angles his head and claims my lips once more. Inching us closer to the wall, he props one hand on the smooth oak above my head. “God, Vivvy. I’ll die before I get enough of you.”
I moan as he begins dropping kisses on my neck, my eyes closing as I drink in the pleasure of it all. “Cass,” I whimper.
Shoving his hand further into my hair, he drags me to him, his mouth finding mine again.
Our teeth clash together, each of us too desperate for the other.
I move my hand up his chest, relishing the feel of hard muscle beneath his wet clothes until I reach his neck.
I tug him even closer, and he groans into my mouth. He drags his hand down—
“What the fuck is going on?”
Cass and I jump apart as if we’ve been struck by lightning and turn toward Rhya’s half-open gate.
Bash is standing in the center aisle, a murderous expression on his face.