Chapter 142 Hunting For Loopholes

Chapter 142 Hunting For Loopholes
Cassian's Perspective

I press the heel of my palm hard against my forehead, resting my elbow on the edge of the desk.

The lines of text on the parchment in front of me are starting to bleed together, the letters morphing into illegible smudges.

I rub my eyes until I see white flashes, forcing myself to focus on the small print once again.

I have no idea how many hours I’ve been sitting here in the study. Long enough for my body to feel completely numb, long enough for the towering bookshelves surrounding me to feel like a cage closing in around my mind.

"It's getting late, Cassian."

I lift my head, watching my mother step out from the dim shadows near the back of the room. She pulls out the wooden chair across from me and sits down with a heavy, quiet sigh.

I drop my gaze back down to the desk, unable to hold her eyes for long.

"I know."

Looking at her right now is like staring into a mirror. I can see the same dark circles under her eyes, the same bloodshot exhaustion that I know is reflecting on my own face.

"You need to go to bed, son," she says softly, her voice unusually gentle. "You haven't closed your eyes since yesterday."

She's talking to me like I'm a skittish animal about to bolt. Normally, whenever pack trouble comes up, she tells me to suck it up, put on a stern face, and hide whatever weakness I'm feeling.

But when it comes to Nova, she knows there's no point in telling me to play the emotionless Alpha.

"How am I supposed to sleep?" I ask, my voice gravelly as I gesture to the thick document laid out on the table. "Nova was dragged off by that monster, and every second I sit here is time wasted."

The regional Treaty sits open between us—a massive, ancient headache of legal jargon and pack laws.

So far, every single section I've managed to translate just confirms the exact legal nightmare Zion threw in my face.

"Nova is safe for the time being. Getting some rest will help clear your head so you can actually figure out a way around this," she insists gently.

I shake my head. The mere thought of lying down in an empty bed, staring at the dark ceiling without Nova breathing beside me, makes my stomach turn.

No matter how bone-tired I feel... I can't do it.

"We don't have time to sit around," I mutter, rubbing the sharp ache pulsing in my temple. "Zion abused her and her mother for years. It's only a matter of time before he loses his temper with her again."

The image of him laying a hand on her sparks a violent, suffocating wave of heat in my chest. My foot taps rhythmically against the floorboards under the desk, my hands twitching with nervous, unspent energy.

My mother lets out a long breath, leaning forward over the parchment. "What exactly are you searching for?"

"The regional treaty. I'm hunting for a loophole," I admit, leaning back against my chair.

Every page seems written with the sole purpose of giving the reader a headache, stuffed with absurdly long sentences and archaic phrasing that makes my eyes burn.

"Even if you manage to find a technicality, you'd still have to convince the entire council of Alphas," my mother points out quietly. "And very few of them are eager to bring Zion's anger down on their own packs."

I lock eyes with her. "They'd better be a lot more terrified of mine."

Because if they sit back and let my mate be dragged away without raising a finger when there's a legal way out, they will feel the full weight of my wrath. Even Imogen wouldn't dare take Zion's side over mine if I presented a legitimate claim.

"Just... don't drive yourself out of your mind chasing ghosts in a document," she says softly, placing a hand near mine. "Take a breath. Do this the right way."

"I need her back, Mother..." My voice cracks, the raw ache breaking through my hard posture.

She nods, her eyes full of quiet sympathy. "I know you do."

Holding onto my composure is getting harder by the minute. Every logical reason I had for letting Zion walk out those doors is crumbling.

All I can picture is Nova trapped in that fortress, completely at the mercy of a man who enjoys inflicting pain.

"I'm going to kill him," I whisper, digging my thumbs into my temples. "I'm going to rip Zion apart once and for all."

I want to feel his life fade out under my hands. Just thinking about wrapping my fingers around his neck sends a dark, intoxicating wave of heat through my veins.

I want to wipe out every single threat hanging over Nova's head so she can finally live without fear.

My mother sighs, leaning back into her seat with a tired expression. "You already know how I feel about this endless cycle of revenge, Cassian."

"He murdered my father," I spit back, the bitterness rising fast in my throat. "Your husband."

I've never understood how she can be so detached about it. She watched my father die with her own eyes, yet she doesn't spend every second of the day itching to end the monster responsible. It makes no sense to me.

"Cassian, you still view your father through the eyes of a little boy," she says, a deep, heavy grief settling into her gaze. "You remember him as this flawless, invincible leader. But the truth is, he could be vicious."

I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. "I know he wasn't perfect..."

"No, you really don't," her voice turns razor-sharp. "He was cold to both of us. He ruled this pack with an iron fist and fought everyone on everything until the day he died."

My father was stern and demanding, sure, but I learned early on not to take his strictness personally. I respected him, and as a kid, that respect was enough for me.

"He was a great Alpha," I grit out through clenched teeth.

"He was an Alpha who was addicted to conflict," she counters flatly. "He poked and prod Zion like it was a game, daring him to snap. He pushed that man to his absolute limit, and Zion gave him the fight he kept asking for."

She tilts her head, staring off into the dim light of the library. "Your father wasn't some innocent victim in his own downfall. He genuinely believed he was invincible, and Zion proved him wrong in the most brutal way possible."

A heavy, sickening weight drops right into the pit of my stomach.

"How can you talk about your own husband like that?"