Cassian's POV
The urgency at which I climbed into the room, brushing the bartender aside, baffled me. Up until now, fighting for the throne of my father was the last time I'd ever been this riled up. This demonic zeal to claim something I almost couldn't do without. To lay down all I'm worth at the table of desire.
My beast seized the cue to switch sides, panting on the defensive with claws flashed. I attempted to pass a clear-cut warning to the man on whose scrawny laps I found Rhoda, but it came out in a repressed growl, "Get your filthy hands off my girl."
Hunched with a leaven of raw rage, I snarled to the four posts bed beside the wall to do more than getting Rhoda off the old fool's lap. Wrapped up in the fury of my mind, I was much less aware of the brunette sitting on a chair
