Cassian didn’t breathe for a full five seconds.
The rogue’s last word still lingered in the air between us like smoke that wouldn’t fade.
Moon-Blessed.
I’d barely touched him. Just one brush of skin—his hand, bloody and shaking, grazing my wrist. But something in that contact had snapped loose, a thread pulled too hard, unraveling everything I thought I understood about myself.
Cassian knelt by the body, his hands hovering near the rogue’s chest, like he might still coax something out of him. But it was too late. The light had already gone from the man’s eyes.
His body sagged, mouth parted slightly, lips stained with red. His arm dropped to the ground with a wet thud.
Gone.
“Damn it,” Cassian muttered.
I barely heard him.
My heart was still hammering, blood roaring in my ears. Not
