The Cracks Beneath the Sunlight
1573 Words
Chapter 5: The Cracks Beneath the Sunlight
Cassandra
Cassandra woke to the sound of waves breaking against the rocks beneath the resort balcony, soft, rhythmic, deceptively calming. She drew in a slow breath, reminding herself that peace was a fragile illusion. Peace only lasted if she remained invisible.
And Jason Hale was here.
On the same stretch of beach.
Breathing the same ocean air.
Walking the same hallways.
Her pulse thudded through her fingertips as she tied her robe and checked on Jay, who slept curled like a cat in the soft sheets, his little curls spread across the pillow, his thumb halfway to his mouth. Paradoxically, that small, angelic face was her strength and her greatest vulnerability.
“Mommy?”
His sleepy voice cracked her heart open.
She sat on the edge of his bed. “Yes, baby?”
“Are we seeing the ocean today?”
“Yes,” she whispered, brushing his hair back. “But you stay close to me. No running off. Promise?”
He nodded and reached up to put his little hand on her cheek. “Okay.”
Cassandra smiled, though it trembled around the edges. “Good boy.”
But her heart was already racing.
She could not afford to run into Jason again, not after last evening’s near disaster.
She could still see the way he’d stared at Jay, stunned, breath stolen right out of him. The moment had lasted only seconds, but it was enough. Jay’s resemblance to Jason was unmistakable. A mirror, a truth Cassandra could not hide if Jason looked too closely. God knew how much he could have uncovered had he succeeded in walking away with him!
And Jason always looked closely.
She gathered Jay’s clothes and whispered to herself. "We finish this holiday. We keep our distance. And then we disappear back into routine."
Back into safety.
If safety still existed.
*****
Jason
Jason hadn’t slept.
The sun was barely up, but he was already on the balcony of his suite, hands braced on the railing, staring at the strip of white sand below where he’d first seen the mysterious boy.
His mysterious boy.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to make sense of the pounding in his chest. The resemblance had been too much, same eyes, same furrow of brows, same stubborn little chin.
A child couldn’t look that much like him by coincidence.
He had spent the whole night replaying every detail, from the boy’s smile, the soft way Cassandra had held him to the way Bosco hovered protectively near both of them.
And the woman.
The doctor.
The stranger.
The ghost.
Something about her tugged at him with a grief he didn’t understand.
Why does she feel familiar? Why does she feel like a wound that never healed?
A knock broke his thoughts.
His parents entered without waiting for permission, of course.
His father, King Alpha Bon, imposing and sharp-eyed even in casual clothes, stepped onto the balcony. His mother, Queen Anastasia, followed behind with stiff composure.
“Jason,” Bon said curtly. “We’re having brunch with the Windsor Pack. Dress properly.”
Jason didn’t move. “I’m working.”
“Working?” Anastasia scoffed. “You’re staring at the ocean.”
Jason’s jaw flexed. “It’s called thinking.”
His mother folded her arms. “You’re being dramatic. Probably because you keep avoiding Lyra.”
He said nothing.
She continued, “Lyra is prepared. She’s elegant. Powerful. Exactly the type of Luna you need.”
Jason’s stomach turned. “She’s the mate you want. Not the one I want.”
Bon’s voice sharpened. “Mates aren’t about desire. They’re about strategy. You will accept Lyra. Or you will create an enemy out of her family.”
Jason turned fully to them. “If she wants a title so badly, let her marry the title. I’m not interested.”
Anastasia hissed, “You were interested once. Before you got, distracted.”
Jason stiffened.
“Before Cassandra,” his mother added, venom slipping into the name.
His father’s expression darkened. “We gave you time to heal from your mistake. Don’t repeat it.”
Jason felt heat rise in his chest. “Don’t call her a mistake.”
“You call her a tragedy,” Anastasia said coldly, “but tragedy implies innocence. That girl manipulated you, shamed you, almost destroyed the kingdom’s alliances.”
Jason snapped, “She was my mate!”
The words tore from him before he could stop them.
His parents froze, horror lacing their eyes.
Then his father growled, low and warning. “Don’t speak of her. She’s dead. And that is the end of it.”
The finality struck Jason like a blade.
But inside him, something tightened. Hardened.
If she’s dead, why do I feel her everywhere? Why does that woman downstairs stir something I buried? Why does her son look like me?
No answers came.
There was only an unbearable certainty. That his parents had lied about Cassandra before.
They could be lying again.
*****
Lyra
Lyra stood at the pool bar, sipping a sparkling drink, watching Jason storm away from his parents with a predator’s frustration.
Good.
Let him simmer. Let him brood. Let him burn himself out.
Soon, he would return to her.
He always did.
Her lips curled slightly as she adjusted her sunglasses. She was dressed impeccably in a white swimsuit that glittered like fresh snow, a calculated choice. Jason liked simple elegance. And she intended to give him exactly what he wanted.
Once she was Luna, no peasant little doctor or sea-breeze mystery woman would stand in her way.
*****
Julie
Julie, meanwhile, was sprawled on a beach lounger, legs glistening with tanning oil, wearing sunglasses worth more than most people’s rent.
“Ugh, Maxwell is ignoring me again,” she muttered loudly to no one in particular, except Bosco, who stood nearby waiting for a drink order.
She turned to him, fluttering her lashes. “Don Bosco, tell me, does a man ignore a woman like me because he’s shy, or because he’s intimidated?”
Bosco didn’t look up from his glass. “Neither.”
Julie frowned. “Then what?”
“You’re loud.”
She gasped. “Excuse me?”
“And entitled.”
Her jaw dropped.
“And you smell like a coconut drowned itself.”
Julie sprang upright. “You! You!”
But Bosco’s phone buzzed. He answered immediately, stepping away and ignoring her sputtering outrage.
Julie huffed, slumping back. “Rude.”
She cast a sharp look toward Maxwell, who stood farther down the beach, talking quietly to, who the hell was that?
Her eyes narrowed.
To Cassandra.
Again.
“Oh, hell no,” Julie whispered.
*****
Maxwell
Maxwell didn’t realize he was smiling until Cassandra looked at him with raised brows.
“You’re in a good mood today,” she observed gently.
“Am I?” Maxwell rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose I’m trying not to strangle Julie.”
Cassandra laughed softly. “That sounds fair.”
Maxwell’s gaze drifted to her face, soft, serene, tired around the edges but glowing with something stronger than beauty. Strength. Grace. Mystery.
“Jay looks happy,” he said.
“He loves the beach.”
“You look, happy, too,” he added quietly.
Cassandra’s smile faded slightly. “I’m trying.”
Maxwell wanted to say more. To ask why she always seemed to be running from shadows. Why her eyes sometimes held sorrow that didn’t belong to a woman her age. Why Bosco hovered around her like a silent storm.
But he didn’t push.
Not yet.
Instead, he offered his arm. “Walk with me?”
She hesitated only a moment before nodding.
*****
Jason
Jason found them by accident.
He was walking along the boardwalk, trying to clear his mind, when he saw Maxwell first. He stood tall and composed with unmistakable alpha presence.
Then he saw her.
Cassandra.
Her hair loose in the wind.
Her dress light and fluttering.
Her hand brushing Maxwell’s arm.
Jason’s breath vanished.
He froze.
His wolf, Leo, surged violently beneath his skin.
"Mate!"
Jason staggered, gripping the railing.
No. No, it couldn’t be. His mind was playing tricks, his grief was shaping illusions. Cassandra was dead. Gone. Buried under years of silence and his parents’ lies.
And yet, her laugh floated toward him on the ocean breeze.
Warm.
Familiar.
A dagger right to his heart.
Jason took a step forward. Then Bosco appeared.
He strode between Cassandra and Maxwell, placing a hand on her back. Protective. Claiming.
Jason’s jaw clenched.
Why is he always near her? Who is she to him?
Bosco spoke softly to Cassandra. Maxwell stiffened, annoyed but respectful. Cassandra nodded, picking up Jay from the sand. She looked exhausted suddenly. Overwhelmed.
Jason’s breath hitched.
She was leaving.
With Bosco.
Jason took another step.
“Jason?”
Lyra’s hand curled around his arm, stopping him.
He stared down at her, but for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel Lyra’s presence at all.
He only felt the fading warmth of Cassandra’s silhouette as she disappeared behind the resort doors with her son in her arms.
A son who looked like him.
A woman who made his heart stutter.
A truth that hunted him like a ghost.
“Jason?” Lyra asked again, confused.
But he only whispered, “Who are you?”
- Writer
