Beneath the Crescent Mark

Chapter eight

# Beneath the Crescent Mark

## Chapter 3.7

**Cassian**

Cassian sat in his car at the curb outside Ravyn’s house, hands still gripping the steering wheel, watching her walk to her front door. Her lips were still swollen from their kiss, her dark hair mussed from his fingers, and when she turned to give him a small wave before disappearing inside, he felt something crack in his chest.

For a moment—just a moment—when he’d kissed her, all thoughts of howling and mate bonds and supernatural politics had vanished. There had only been her warmth, her taste, the way she’d melted into him like she belonged there.

Like they belonged together.

Now, sitting in her driveway with her scent still clinging to his clothes, reality crashed back down. His phone had been buzzing incessantly since they’d left the lake, each message more urgent than the last. He already knew what they said without looking.

His father was waiting.

Cassian waited until the lights came on in her bedroom window, then forced himself to put the car in reverse. Every instinct screamed at him to stay, to protect her from whatever was coming. But he was his father’s son, bound by blood and centuries of obedience, and Lord Valerius Ravencrest was not a man who tolerated being kept waiting.

The drive to the estate felt like traveling through a graveyard. The iron gates, the long driveway lined with ancient oaks, the Gothic mansion that had housed his family for three centuries—all of it felt foreign tonight, like he was seeing it through Ravyn’s eyes instead of his own.

What would she think of this place? Of the shadows that moved without light, the portraits of dead ancestors whose eyes seemed to follow movement through the halls, the weight of power and darkness that permeated every stone?

She’d hate it. She’d see it for what it was—a monument to control and manipulation, beautiful and terrible in equal measure.

His phone buzzed again. This time he looked.

*His Lordship requires your immediate presence. - Marcus*

Cassian parked in the circular drive and sat for a moment, trying to summon the mask of dutiful son he’d worn for over a century. But all he could think about was the trust in Ravyn’s green eyes when she’d kissed him goodbye, the way she’d whispered his name like a prayer.

The mansion’s interior was all shadows and marble, elegant and intimidating in the way only centuries of vampire power could achieve. His footsteps echoed as he made his way through corridors lined with tapestries and portraits, past artifacts from conquered enemies and tributes from lesser courts.

This was his world. This was what he was.

So why did it feel like a cage?

Lord Valerius’s study occupied the entire west wing of the top floor. Cassian knocked once and entered without waiting for permission—a liberty afforded only to family, and even then, only barely.

“Father.”

Valerius stood with his back to the door, hands clasped behind him as he stared out at the estate’s grounds. He was tall and commanding even in stillness, his dark blond hair silver at the temples, every line of his body radiating the authority that came with being one of the most powerful vampires in existence.

“You’re late,” he said without turning.

“I was ensuring Ravyn arrived home safely.”

“How thoughtful.” Valerius finally turned, his pale blue eyes—so like Cassian’s own—studying his son with calculating intensity. “And how was your evening with our little hybrid? Productive?”

Cassian kept his expression carefully neutral. “She’s processing everything. Her father’s return has been… overwhelming for her.”

“I’m sure it has.” Valerius moved to his desk, fingers trailing over the polished mahogany surface. “Eryx always did have a talent for complicating simple situations.”

“There’s nothing simple about this.”

“Isn’t there?” Valerius looked up sharply. “A powerful hybrid awakens. We secure her loyalty. She becomes our ally instead of our enemy. It seems quite straightforward to me.”

“She’s not just a piece on a chess board,” Cassian said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “She’s a person with her own thoughts, feelings, desires—”

“She’s a weapon,” Valerius interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “The most powerful weapon born in a thousand years. And weapons, my son, don’t get to choose their wielders.”

The cold certainty in his father’s voice sent ice through Cassian’s veins. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that the time for subtlety has passed.” Valerius opened a drawer and pulled out a crystal vial filled with clear liquid. “I want you to bring her home. Here, where she belongs, where we can protect her and guide her properly.” Valerius’s voice was calm, reasonable, like he was discussing the weather. “Her mate is searching for her. It’s only a matter of days before he finds her. Once that happens, once the mate bond fully manifests, she’ll be lost to us forever.”

Cassian stared at the vial, his stomach dropping. “What is that?”

“A mild sedative. Vampire-made, undetectable to her hybrid senses.” Valerius held it up to the light, the crystal catching the lamplight. “You’ll slip it in her drink.”

Cassian stared at the vial, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I don’t need to drug her. Just give me more time with her. I can win her over completely, make her see that being with us is what she wants.”

“Time,” Valerius repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “Time is a luxury we don’t have.”

“A few more weeks—”

“You have forty-eight hours.”

The words hit Cassian like a physical blow. “Forty-eight hours?”

“Bring her to me within two days, willing or not.” Valerius moved closer, his presence radiating cold authority. “Her mate grows stronger by the hour. Every moment she remains free, every heartbeat that passes, makes it harder to sever that connection. After forty-eight hours, it may be too late.”

“And if I refuse?”

Valerius’s pale blue eyes turned arctic. “Then I’ll send someone else to retrieve her. Someone far less… gentle in their methods.” He paused, letting the threat sink in. “Is that what you want for your precious hybrid? To have her dragged here by strangers who won’t care if she’s damaged in the process?”

Cassian’s jaw tightened. He could picture it—other vampires sent to collect Ravyn, viewing her as nothing more than a prize to be claimed. They wouldn’t care about her fear, her feelings, her humanity.

“Two days,” Valerius said again, returning to his desk. “Use them wisely.”

Cassian picked up the crystal vial, the weight of it seeming to burn through his palm. Such a small thing to destroy everything he’d found with her.

“She trusts me,” he said quietly.

“Then use that trust.” Valerius didn’t look up from his papers. “It’s what it was always meant for.”

For the first time in over a century, Cassian Ravencrest walked out of his father’s study with rebellion burning in his chest. The vial felt like poison in his pocket, and he had forty-eight hours to decide whether he was his father’s son or something else entirely.

Something worthy of the girl who had looked at him like he was more than a monster.

Something worthy of the trust he was about to betray.