Chapter 215

Chapter 215
WREN.

The morning felt unreal, like I was walking through a dream. My suitcase lay open on the bed while Sybil sat cross-legged at the edge of it, scribbling something down on a notepad like a teacher giving homework.

“You’re going to the Maldives, Wren. Do you even understand what that means?” she asked, her pen scratching fast across the paper.

I folded a sundress and tucked it into the corner. “I know it’s warm, and there’s water everywhere. That’s enough for me.”

Sybil groaned. “No, no, no. It’s paradise. You have to try snorkeling, the spa treatments, maybe diving if you’re brave enough. Oh, and the food, Wren. The food is going to ruin you for life.”

She shoved the list into my hands, her eyes gleaming. “Here. Don’t you dare ignore this.”

I laughed, taking it. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably sit inside the bungalow and read a book instead of enjoying the beach,” she teased.

Cassian walked in just then, carrying his own bag, his eyes flicking over my packed clothes before settling on Sybil. “Are you finished lecturing her, or should I give you two more hours?”

“Ten minutes,” Sybil said with a grin. “But fine, I’m done.”

She hopped off the bed and hugged me tightly. “Have fun. And don’t worry. We’ll handle things here.”

I hugged her back before she slipped out, leaving me and Cassian alone.

.........................

Before leaving, we stopped by the pack doctor’s office. The pack doctor gave me a kind smile as he handed me a small pouch of medication.

“Just in case your fevers return,” he explained. “They shouldn’t, but I want you prepared.”

I nodded, clutching the pouch. “Thank you.”

Cassian’s hand found the small of my back as he guided me out. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured. “And if you’re not, I’ll be right there.”

His words warmed me more than the doctor’s reassurance.

At the airport, as we boarded, my phone buzzed. A text from Reed. My stomach dropped when I read it.

Lucky’s death has been announced. He died in a fire.

I showed Cassian, my voice low. “They've finally announced it."

Cassian’s jaw tightened. “Of course. Alexander’s cleaning house.”

A hollow laugh escaped me. “She's creative at least. Wolves falling into flames, falling off cliffs. She should write crime novels instead."

Cassian didn’t smile. He leaned closer, his voice firm. “Still, two alphas dead in such a short span, it’s going to raise suspicion. The council won’t ignore this. I wouldn’t be surprised if another summit is called after Marius falls.”

The thought made my chest tighten. I whispered, “Do you think Reed can handle Marius on his own?”

Cassian’s gaze softened. “I think he can. Reed’s smart. He’ll be careful.”

I wanted to believe him. I nodded, though worry gnawed at me as the plane took off.

....................

The Maldives looked nothing like I had imagined. To be honest, my imagination was very limited since I've rarely ever been to nice places like these.

Stepping off the seaplane, I froze, my breath catching. The water stretched endless and blue, so clear I could see fish darting beneath the surface. White sand sparkled like sugar under the sun, and palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze.

“Cassian…” My voice trailed off as I spun slowly, drinking it all in. “It’s… it’s unreal.”

His lips curved faintly as he watched me. “Better than the pictures?”

“Pictures don’t even come close,” I whispered.

Our bungalow sat on stilts above the water, its thatched roof golden under the sun. Inside, the room smelled of wood and salt. Glass panels in the floor let me watch the sea beneath us.

I pressed my palms against the glass, laughing softly. “Cassian, look! You can see the fish!”

Since we had arrived late in the evening, we took time to unpack and rest a little before dressing up and taking a look around.

The Maldivian night was a deep, velvety blue, pierced by a scatter of stars so bright they looked close enough to touch. The only sound was the gentle, rhythmic shush of the lagoon against the stilts of our overwater bungalow, a sound that had become the constant, soothing soundtrack to our paradise.

I stood on the deck, the warm, humid air caressing my skin, looking out at the bioluminescent plankton glittering in the black water like submerged stardust.

Inside, through the glass floor panel, I could see their faint, magical glow.

A pair of strong arms circled my waist from behind, and a familiar heat pressed against my back. Cassian's scent-salt air, clean sweat, and something uniquely, essentially him, wrapped around me, more intoxicating than any tropical flower could ever be.

"You're thinking too loud," he murmured, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear. A shiver, immediate and intense, raced down my spine.

"Just taking it all in," | said, leaning back into the solid wall of his chest. "Trying to memorize this wonderful feeling."

He turned me slowly in his arms until I was facing him. In the moonlight, his features were all sharp angles and soft shadows, his eyes dark pools of pure want. "Memorize this instead," he whispered, and then his mouth was on mine.

This wasn't the soft, exploring kiss from our sunset walk on the beach. Or the kinds of kisses we had at home. This was claiming. This was a promise of everything to come. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting of the sweet wine we'd had with dinner, and I met him with a hunger of my own, my fingers tangling in the dark silk of his hair.

We stumbled back through the open sliding door into the bungalow, a mess of clutching hands and frantic kisses. The air inside was cool from the air conditioning, a sharp contrast to the fire building under my skin. He walked me backward until my knees hit the edge of our massive bed, and I fell onto the soft white duvet, pulling him down with me.

He braced himself above me, his gaze burning into mine as his hands went to the tie of my sarong. With a single, deft pull, the thin cotton came undone. His eyes darkened as they traveled the length of my body, now bare except for the tiny lace panties l'd put on hours ago, hoping for this exact moment when I packed it in my suitcase.

"You're so beautiful, Wren," he said, his voice a rough, low growl that went straight to my core. "It almost hurts to look at you."

He lowered his head, and his mouth found my breast through the lace of my top. The fabric was a frustrating barrier, and with a sound of impatience, he tugged it down, his hot mouth closing over my nipple. I cried out, arching off the bed as a bolt of pure pleasure shot through me. His tongue circled, teased, and suckled until I was writhing beneath him, my hips pressing up, seeking friction, seeking him.