A Crown of Scars and Silk

THE BLACK RIDGE SANCTUARY

The silence between them was heavier than the storm.

Cassian’s gloved thumb lingered against Celeste’s cheekbone, catching a stray droplet of rain that ran down her jaw. His touch was firm, impossibly warm, and sending jolts of liquid heat straight down into her belly.

Celeste couldn't move. Her boots felt rooted to the mud, her chest rising and falling in fast, shallow gasps. She looked up into his silver eyes, mesmerized by the sheer, imposing presence of the male standing over her.

He didn't look at her with pity. He looked at her as if she were a piece of fine art he had spent centuries searching for—and was prepared to tear the world apart to keep.

"You're freezing," Cassian whispered, his low voice a smooth, gravelly purr that rattled against her collarbone.

Before she could form a reply, Cassian reached up and unbuttoned his heavy black wool coat. The fabric was lined with rich, thick charcoal silk. He draped it over her trembling shoulders, swathing her completely in his size and warmth.

The moment his coat enclosed her, his scent enveloped her entirely—dark tea, crushed velvet, and intoxicating woodsmoke. Her inner wolf let out a long, contented sigh, curling up inside her chest as if it had finally found home.

"I... I shouldn't be here," Celeste stammered, her voice shaking from a mixture of cold and raw adrenaline. She clutched the lapels of his massive coat around her chest. "This is Black Ridge territory. I'm... I was banished. Rejected."

"You were let go by a fool," Cassian corrected softly, his silver eyes flashing with a dangerous, molten light. "There is a difference."

He stepped back just an inch, offering her a long, leather-clad hand. His palm was broad, calloused, and welcoming.

"Come inside, Celeste," he murmured. "Let me take care of you."

Hearing her name spoken in his deep, dark voice made her skin prickle with goosebumps. She looked at his outstretched hand, then back toward the dark forest behind her, where Blood Moon lay—where Gideon was currently celebrating his callous betrayal.

She took a breath, reached out, and placed her small, cold fingers directly into Cassian’s palm.

The moment their skin made contact, a surge of pure electricity shot through her arm, making her gasp aloud. Cassian’s fingers closed around hers gently, but with a firm, unbreakable grip.

He didn't make her walk through the mud. In one smooth, effortless movement, Cassian slipped his other arm beneath her knees and lifted her straight up into his chest.

Celeste let out a soft cry of surprise, instinctively wrapping her arms around his broad, muscular neck. His body felt like solid granite wrapped in fire. She could feel the steady, thumping beat of his powerful heart right against her cheek.

"Hold on to me," Cassian commanded quietly, stepping smoothly through the thick brush as if her weight were nothing to him.

Five minutes later, the dense trees parted, revealing a grand, ancient estate carved straight into the dark mountain side.

Black Ridge Manor was breathtaking—a towering stone fortress with glowing arched windows, dark iron balconies, and grand fires roaring inside every room. It looked like a palace built for a king who ruled in shadows.

Cassian carried her up the wide marble stairs, through the towering oak double doors, and into a grand entrance hall bathed in the warm, flickering light of a massive stone hearth.

Guards and household staff stood stationed near the velvet-draped corridors, but as soon as Cassian entered carrying a rain-drenched girl in his arms, every single head bowed in deep, reverent silence. No one dared to question him.

"Prepare the Master Suite," Cassian ordered loudly, his commanding tone echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings. "Fetch hot water, lavender oils, and fresh silk garments. Immediately."

A young female beta bowed quickly and hurried up the grand spiral staircase.

Cassian walked straight up the stairs, carrying Celeste into a massive, luxurious bedroom. A king-sized bed lined with deep emerald velvet sheets sat at the center, flanked by a roaring fireplace that immediately filled the room with dry, comforting heat.

He carried her over to a plush armchair near the hearth and gently set her down.

Celeste sank into the soft velvet cushions, her eyes wide as she looked around the dark, elegant room. "This... this is your room?"

"It is our room now, if you'll have it," Cassian said softly, stepping back to remove his wet gloves, tossing them onto a mahogany side table.

He knelt on one knee directly in front of her chair, placing his large hands on the arms of her seat, trapping her softly within his space. His dark face was just inches from hers. The intense heat radiating off his body made the silk dress cling to her damp skin, making her hyper-aware of every breath she took.

"Why are you doing this?" Celeste asked, her voice barely a whisper, her dark eyes searching his silver ones. "You don't even know me, Sovereign. I am a nobody in the eyes of the packs."

Cassian’s gaze dropped to her pink, trembling lips, his jaw tightening as a possessive dark growl rumbled deep within his chest.

"To them, you might have been an outcast," Cassian murmured, his dark voice laced with an irresistible, dangerous passion. "But to me... you are the only creature in this world capable of making my wolf bow."

He reached out, his warm, bare fingers gently cupping the back of her neck. He pulled her forward just an inch—until her forehead rested softly against his.

The heat of his breath brushed across her lips. Celeste’s eyes fluttered shut, her heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst right out of her ribcage. The intense, aching desire pooling in her lower abdomen was almost unbearable.

"Tonight, you rest," Cassian whispered, his thumb tracing the soft line of her jaw. "Tomorrow... we begin taking back everything they stole from you."