Chapter 272
Cassian's POV
Chloe stood frozen, her eyes flickering between the food, Sarah's furious face, and my carefully neutral expression. I could see the war playing out behind her eyes—hunger versus self-preservation, dignity versus the very real threat of Sarah's displeasure.
"I'm fine," she whispered finally, her voice barely audible. "Thank you, but I'm fine."
"Fuck this," Zero snarled in my mind. "Sarah's really pushing it tonight."
I watched as Sarah actually reached out toward the food, making these ridiculous grabbing motions like a child denied a toy. The security guard, Chloe, and I all stared at her in varying degrees of shock and disgust.
"Do you understand what it means to be Luna, Sarah?" I asked quietly, my voice carrying an edge that made her freeze mid-reach. "It means inspiring people. Leading them. Taking care of them. It means putting the pack's needs above your own petty wants."
Even more concerning was the fact that Chloe seemed used to this kind of treatment. How many times had she been made to feel less than? How many times had people with money and power walked all over her simply because they could?
"Look," Sarah said, actually laughing as she gestured at Chloe's figure, "she knows I'm right."
That's when Sarah made her fatal mistake. She shoved past Chloe, reaching for one of the sandwiches. I moved faster, snatching it away and handing it directly to Chloe with a pointed look.
"No," I said, my voice dropping to that dangerous register that made even my father's enforcers nervous. I held Sarah's gaze, letting her see exactly how thin my patience had worn. "You don't get to eat until you learn to treat people with basic fucking respect."
"Screw you, Cassian," Sarah laughed, but there was an edge of hysteria to it now. "You can't order me around like—"
She didn't finish. She lunged for the sandwich in Chloe's hands, actually ripping it away from the girl and tearing open the wrapper with shaking fingers.
That was it. That was the line.
I stood so fast my chair scraped against the floor, the sound sharp in the suddenly tense air. My hand shot out, gripping Sarah's wrist hard enough to make her gasp, and I took the sandwich back, returning it to Chloe with a gentleness that was the complete opposite of how I was handling Sarah.
Then I dragged her toward the fitting room, using my body to block the exit, forcing her to face herself in the full-length mirror. Her face was flushed red with anger and—if I was reading her right—shame she'd never admit to.
"She doesn't have a problem," I said, my voice low and harsh in her ear. "She's built like my sister, like your supposed best friend. And honestly, sweetheart, I'm not going to lie—you could learn a thing or two from her. She looks fantastic."
I heard a small, shocked intake of breath from behind me—probably Chloe—but I didn't turn around. I kept my eyes locked on Sarah's reflection, watching her face go through another series of expressions before landing on something ugly and jealous.
"You like her better than me?" she demanded, her voice shaking.
I let out a laugh that held no humor whatsoever. "Honestly? I'd rather stick my dick in a badger's asshole than touch you right now."
The crudeness of it was deliberate, chosen specifically because I knew it would hurt and because I wanted to make absolutely clear that this wasn't about Chloe at all—this was about Sarah's behavior, her cruelty, her complete lack of the qualities that should define a Luna.
"That's bestiality," Sarah shot back, but her voice had gone small.
"But I'm serious," I continued, ignoring her attempt at deflection. "And you wonder why my parents aren't welcoming you with open arms? You're cruel, Sarah. You're going to represent our family, and you understand how important that is? I won't let you treat people this way."
I paused, letting that sink in, watching her reflection carefully. "I'm seriously reconsidering my choices right now."
The threat hung in the air between us, real enough that even Sarah's limited emotional intelligence could pick up on it. Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of genuine fear crossing her face before she tried to mask it with bravado.
"I suggest," I said, my voice dropping even lower, "that you apologize, change back into your own clothes, and leave without making any more scenes. Can you manage that?"
"I think you look fantastic," the security guard's voice came from behind me, warm and genuine. "Any man or woman would be lucky to have you."
It took Sarah a beat to realize he was talking to Chloe, not her. When it registered, I watched something in her expression crack—that carefully maintained superiority crumbling just enough to show the insecurity underneath.
I nodded my agreement, my eyes never leaving Sarah's face in the mirror. "Absolutely."
Sarah's scream was piercing as she whirled away from me, storming into the fitting room and dramatically yanking the curtain closed hard enough that I half-expected the rod to come down. I couldn't help it—I laughed, a short bark of sound that was equal parts amusement and relief.
Turning back to where Chloe stood clutching her sandwich, I moved to sit beside her, careful to keep my posture non-threatening. "I'm sorry about that," I said quietly. "No one should ever make you feel like you're not perfect exactly as you are."
Chloe's smile was small but genuine, the earlier exhaustion in her eyes replaced by something that looked like gratitude. "Thank you, but it's okay. Girls like me get used to it."
"Not while I'm around, you won't," I said firmly, meaning every word. "You deserve better than that. Remember that."
As we sat there eating—me, Chloe, and the security guard sharing sandwiches and protein bars like we were old friends—I felt something shift inside me. It was a small victory, maybe even a meaningless one in the grand scheme of everything else falling apart in my life. But it mattered. It mattered that I'd stood up for someone who couldn't stand up for themselves. It mattered that I'd drawn a line, even if that line was just about basic human decency in a dress shop.
These were the moments that defined what kind of leader I'd be—not the big political decisions or the pack alliances, but whether I'd stand by and watch cruelty happen when I had the power to stop it. Whether I'd let people like Sarah operate unchecked simply because it was easier or more convenient.
I thought about Elowen, about how many times people had been cruel to her, how many times I'd been cruel to her, and how she'd handled it with more grace than Sarah could ever dream of possessing. The ache of missing her hit me so hard I nearly doubled over, but I pushed through it, focusing instead on the lesson I hoped I'd just taught—not just to Sarah, but to myself.
This is who I want to be, I thought, watching Chloe's shoulders slowly relax as she ate. Someone who protects people. Someone who gives a damn about more than just political games and pack hierarchies. Someone Elowen could have been proud of, if I hadn't fucked it all up so spectacularly.