Chapter 27
Elowen's POV
I felt lighter as Cindy and I made our way back to our seats, our emotional reconciliation still warming my chest. The weight of our misunderstanding had lifted, but that momentary peace evaporated instantly as we stepped back into the grandstand. The crowd's deafening roar indicated something dramatic was happening on the track. The championship qualifier's tension was palpable—this wasn't just any race, this was Cassian's chance to secure his spot in the finals.
We arrived just in time to see Cassian's car locked in a dangerous dance with Randall's Ferrari. They were practically touching at speeds that made my stomach drop through the floor.
"What's happening?" I asked Casper frantically as we reclaimed our seats.
His eyes never left the track, his knuckles white as he gripped the railing. "Randall's driving like he has a death wish. He's trying to force Cassian off his line."
I watched in horror as Randall's car nudged Cassian's on a straightaway. Cassian's vehicle fishtailed dramatically before he somehow regained control, but the move cost him his lead position. Randall shot ahead, his red Ferrari gleaming under the sun as it pulled away.
"That motherfucker," Casper growled, his eyes flashing gold momentarily. The wolf was close to the surface, and I instinctively placed a calming hand on his arm.
The crowd around us erupted in a mixture of boos and cheers. Racing fans might appreciate aggression, but that move had crossed a line.
"Is that even legal?" I asked, my heart pounding painfully in my chest.
"Borderline," Cindy answered, her earlier anger with me forgotten in the face of her brother's predicament. "The stewards might review it, but they'll probably call it a racing incident."
The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers: "And with that controversial move, Ashford takes the lead in this crucial championship qualifier! Thornwood needs this win to secure his place in the finals!"
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sarah rise from her seat several rows away, her hands clenched into fists as she watched Cassian fighting to recover. Despite everything that had happened, her expression revealed genuine concern beneath her usual mask of contempt. It was strange to recognize that in some way, we shared a connection through our feelings for the same man, however different those feelings might be.
The race intensified with each passing lap. Cassian fought relentlessly to regain ground, driving with a focus and determination that was breathtaking to watch. With five laps to go, the tide began to turn. Randall's aggressive early driving had taken a toll on his tires, and Cassian was steadily closing the gap.
"He's pushing too hard too early," Casper muttered, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Cass is playing the long game."
My fingernails dug crescents into my palms as I watched Cassian inch closer with every turn. The championship hung in the balance—everything he'd worked for all season coming down to these final moments.
The crowd rose to their feet as Cassian pulled alongside Randall on the penultimate lap. The two cars thundered down the straightaway neck and neck, neither driver willing to yield an inch. I found myself clutching Casper's arm, my nails digging into the fabric of his jacket, but he didn't seem to notice, his attention fully on his brother's fight for victory.
The final lap was pure adrenaline. Randall defended his position with desperation, his car blocking every attempted overtake. As they approached the final series of turns, it seemed Cassian had lost his chance.
"Come on, Cass," I whispered fervently, my chest so tight I could barely breathe. "Find a way."
As if he'd heard me, Cassian made an unexpected move. Instead of trying to pass on the traditional racing line, he swung his car wide entering the final corner—a move that seemed to surrender any advantage. Randall took the bait, protecting the inside line, but in doing so, he compromised his exit speed.
In a breathtaking display of driving skill, Cassian cut back to an impossible angle, carrying tremendous speed through the exit of the corner where Randall had sacrificed his momentum. The crowd exploded as Cassian's black car shot ahead in the final straight, crossing the finish line a half-car length ahead.
"CASSIAN THORNWOOD WINS THE CHAMPIONSHIP QUALIFIER!" the announcer screamed over the loudspeakers, voice cracking with excitement. "WHAT A MOVE! WHAT A FINISH!"
I screamed his name until my throat burned, jumping up and down in pure exhilaration. Casper grabbed me around the waist and lifted me off my feet in celebration, his earlier tension transforming into jubilation. Even Cindy was shouting herself hoarse, family pride overwhelming everything else.
"That's my fucking brother!" Casper shouted over the roar of the crowd, his face transformed by a rare, genuine smile.
Around us, fans waved flags with Cassian's number and team colors. Girls screamed his name with the devotion of groupies at a rock concert, and men slapped each other on the back, arguing about the brilliance of his final move.
Later, in the winner's circle, Cassian stood triumphant on the podium, championship qualifier trophy gleaming in the sunlight. When he spotted us in the crowd, his eyes locked with mine, and the intensity of his gaze made my breath catch. Even from a distance, the connection between us crackled with electricity.
As we made our way through the crowd toward him, I noticed Sarah watching from the periphery, her face a complex mixture of longing, jealousy, and defeat. Our eyes met briefly, and I saw the moment her expression hardened into renewed hatred. She turned and disappeared into the throng before we reached Cassian.
Reporters surrounded him, microphones thrust in his face as cameras flashed. A particularly bold female reporter with sharp eyes and a sharper smile pushed to the front.
"Cassian Thornwood!" she called out with exaggerated enthusiasm. "After that little love tap from Ashford, most drivers would've ended up in the wall. Some are saying you got lucky rather than skilled. Care to comment?" Her smile was all teeth, clearly hoping to provoke a controversial response.
The crowd hushed, eager for drama, but Cassian's face remained coolly amused. My heartbeat quickened at his easy confidence, the way he commanded attention without even trying.
"Luck?" he replied, a dangerous glint in his eye that reminded me of his predatory nature. "Randall hunts on my territory, he should expect to get bitten." The subtle wolf reference wasn't lost on me, though the reporters took it as racing metaphor. "On the track, there are sheep and there are wolves. I'll let the scoreboard tell you which one I am."
"And what about your celebration plans?" another reporter called out. "Word is you've been seen with a mysterious new woman. Is she your lucky charm?"
My cheeks burned as several eyes turned curiously in my direction. Cassian's smile softened, becoming more genuine as he found me in the crowd.
"I'd like to thank someone special who was here today," he said, his voice carrying clearly through the microphones. "Things got complicated yesterday, but her presence made all the difference. I couldn't have won this championship qualifier without her support."
A wave of knowing murmurs and excited glances swept through the crowd. The female reporter's eyebrows shot up, clearly connecting the dots with the trackside kiss that had already made the rounds on social media.
"Care to introduce us to the woman who's captured the notorious Cassian Thornwood's attention?" she pressed, scanning the crowd with sharp interest.
"Some things are worth keeping private," Cassian replied smoothly, his attention so completely fixed on me that it felt like a physical touch. He answered the reporter, but spoke only to me, as if we were alone in a room rather than surrounded by cameras and curious onlookers.
The crowd of fans behind the barricade screamed his name, reaching out hands in his direction. "CASSIAN! CASSIAN! CASSIAN!" They chanted with religious fervor, some holding signs proclaiming their love.
When he finally broke free from the press, he strode directly toward us, ignoring the fans reaching for his attention. Without hesitation, he pulled me into his arms and then reached out to clasp Casper's shoulder, the three of us forming a circle that felt both protective and possessive.
"Let's celebrate at The Red Wolf tonight," he suggested, his voice husky with adrenaline and emotion. "I want everyone to see us together."
My heart stuttered at his words, at the possessive glint in his eyes that matched his brother's. The warmth of his body against mine sent tingles of awareness through every nerve ending. There was something irresistible about him like this—victorious, confident, and entirely focused on me.
As we left the track, I felt the weight of curious stares and whispered comments. Behind us, I clearly heard someone say, "Are they all...?" followed by a shocked gasp and hushed speculation.
Casper and Cassian exchanged looks over my head, their matching grins predatory and proud.
"Let them talk," Cassian said, placing a possessive kiss on my temple that left my skin burning.
"They'll have plenty to talk about," Casper agreed, his hand finding the small of my back.