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1124 Words
It's the third time this week I've seen them together. Cassian's sudden reappearance in her life is as deliberate as everything he does, and every fiber of my being is telling me this is a disaster waiting to happen.
I can't decide what frustrates me more: Cassian's obvious manipulation or the fact that Elara doesn't seem to see it.
She laughs at something he says, the sound cutting through the low hum of conversation around me. It's not the kind of laugh she gives freely—it's guarded and sarcastic, but it still twists something deep in my chest. My fingers curl around the glass I'm holding, the sharp edge of the rim pressing against my palm.
I should walk away.
There's no reason for me to linger here, no reason for me to keep watching as she interacts with him. My job is to monitor and report, not get involved. But even as I tell myself that, my feet refuse to move.
Instead, I stay rooted to the spot, my gaze tracking their every move.
Cassian leans closer, his silver eyes gleaming as he gestures toward the projection screen at the far end of the hall. Elara's gaze follows his, and I can see the way her shoulders tense, her body angling slightly away from him. It's subtle, but it's there—her instinctive response to his proximity.
Good.
But then Cassian lowers his voice, and she turns back to him, her brows furrowing as she listens. Whatever he's saying, it's enough to hold her attention, enough to keep her from walking away.
Damn it.
I push off the wall, my jaw tightening as I make my way toward them. My steps are measured, deliberate, though the heat simmering beneath my skin makes me want to move faster, to close the distance between us before Cassian can sink his claws any deeper.
"Elara," I say as I approach, my voice steady but sharp.
She turns to me, her green eyes flashing with something between surprise and irritation. Cassian, of course, doesn't even flinch. His smirk lessens and his posture is relaxed as he glances over his shoulder at me.
The tension snaps tight between us the moment Cassian disappears into the crowd.
Elara's arms are still crossed, her shoulders squared, her lips pressed into a firm line. The torchlight catches in her eyes, sharp and unyielding, daring me to explain myself.
My pulse pounds against my ribs, but I don't let it show.
"What the hell are you doing?" The words come out hard, rougher than I intended, but I don't take them back.
Her chin lifts, jaw tight, the muscle feathering beneath her skin. "Excuse me?"
I take a step closer, but she doesn't move. "Cassian," I bite out, gesturing toward the space he left behind. "You're letting him get too close."
Her nostrils flare, her weight shifting slightly to one side. She doesn't speak right away, just watches me, expression unreadable.
And then—
A slow exhale, controlled, measured. "And why exactly is that your business?"
The question hits harder than it should.
I don't blink. "Did you forget what I told you about him?"
Her eyes flash, something sparking behind them—anger, disbelief, something hotter. "Don't talk to me like I don't know who he is."
"Do you?" I counter, stepping closer and lowering my voice.
Her fingers twitch where they're tucked against her arms.
"Because from where I'm standing," I continue, "it looks like you're letting him play you. Elara, you wouldn't come to gatherings like this, so how come when you do, it's with Cassian?"
A sharp laugh breaks from her lips, short and humorless. "And you care about that?" The words come fast, her voice laced with something cold. "You care about me, or is this just another mission for the Council?"
The accusation lands like a strike, but I don't flinch.
"My work for the Council has nothing to do with this," I say, forcing steel into my tone.
Her expression twists, her gaze flicking over me like she's peeling back my skin, looking for the lie. "Doesn't it?" she murmurs, her voice lower now, biting. "You're here to watch me. To track my every move and word. To report back, just like they want you to."
Her scent shifts—still familiar, but charged now, laced with frustration, with something she isn't saying.
I don't blink.
I don't move.
"I'm trying to protect you." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
Her breath stutters—just slightly—but she catches it, mask sliding back into place.
"I've heard this word from you so many times, but I don't understand. Protect me from what?" she demands.
I inhale, slow, steady, the weight of the truth pressing against my ribs.
"The Council isn't just watching your project." My voice is quieter now, but no less firm.
"They're watching you."
The flicker in her eyes is immediate—uncertainty threading through the anger, hesitation creeping beneath her defenses.
She blinks, lips parting slightly. "What are you talking about?"
For a moment, I don't speak.
For a moment, I let her stand there, watching me, waiting—
And then, I step closer.
Because I can't hold back anymore.
"The Council sees your project as a threat," I say, my tone quieter now. "They think it's too idealistic, too... progressive. And because of that, they've been keeping tabs on you. On everything you've done here."
She stares at me, her lips parted slightly, her green eyes wide with shock.
"That's why Cassian is dangerous," I continue. "Because he's a threat to the Council. And if you align yourself with him, if you give the Council any reason to believe you're working against them—"
"Then what?" she cuts me off, her voice trembling with anger. "What happens then, Adrian? Do they destroy me, too? Like they've destroyed so many others?"
The air between us crackles with tension, and I can feel my wolf stirring beneath the surface, responding to the heat in her voice, and the fire in her eyes.
"Elara," I start, but the words catch in my throat.
"No," she says, shaking her head. "You don't get to lecture me about threats, Adrian. Not when you're part of the same system that's trying to control everything I'm building."
"I'm trying to keep you safe," I say, my voice softer now.
Her laugh is bitter, hollow. "Safe? Funny how you keep mentioning this word. Who exactly are you protecting me from? From Cassian? Because it looks like I need protecting from you."
The words land like a strike, knocking the air from my lungs in a way I don't expect.
- Writer
