Chapter 108
Cassian's POV
Casper nodded jerkily. He led the way down the back stairs, one hand braced against the wall for support.
Each step made Dad's body shift in my arms. His head bobbed. His arms hung loose.
"Where are we taking him?" Casper asked. His voice was small. Young. Like when we were kids and scared of thunderstorms.
"My room."
"What? No. Cassian, we should take him back to the medical wing. The doctors might—"
"The medical wing is full of injured people," I cut him off, my voice sharp. "People who saw what happened. People who will wake up soon. And when they do, they'll see Dad. They'll see you. They'll put it together. Drake wins."
Casper's face crumpled. Fresh tears spilled down his already-wet cheeks.
"My room is private," I continued, softer now. "Quiet. We can... we can give him dignity. And we can figure out what to do next without half the pack watching. Without Drake's people getting anywhere near him."
We reached the elevator. I hit the button with my elbow. Dad was heavy. My arms were starting to ache.
"They will bleed to death while waiting."
Zero's voice cut through my mind. Cold. Sharp. Angry.
My wolf hadn't spoken since we'd entered the ballroom. Since we'd seen Dad's body under that white sheet.
Now he was back. And he was pissed.
"The injured need immediate care," Zero continued. "Your father is beyond help. Prioritize the living."
His logic was sound. It always was. But the words still felt like knives.
"Cassian?" Casper was looking at me with hollow eyes. "You okay?"
"Fine." I shifted Dad's weight. "He's heavy."
Casper's hands tightened under Dad's legs. His fingers were ice cold.
The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.
We stepped inside. The mirrors on the walls showed our reflection. Two blood-soaked men in shredded suits holding their father's corpse. Casper looked like a ghost—pale, shaking, eyes unfocused. I looked like I'd crawled out of a war zone—my shirt hanging in strips, my pants stained dark with blood, my hands shaking.
I looked away.
"This is Casper's fault," Zero said suddenly. His mental voice was ice. "His. And Leo's."
"Shut up," I snapped back.
"We maintained control. We stayed calm. But Casper? He let Drake provoke him. He let Leo take over. And now your father is dead."
"That's not fair."
"Fair?" Zero's laugh was bitter. "There's nothing fair about this. We did everything right. We kept our wolf in check. We didn't lose control. But Casper couldn't do the same. And this is the result."
I gritted my teeth. My hands tightened on Dad's shoulders.
"Leo isn't like us," Zero went on. "He's not a wolf. He's a beast. Wild. Uncontrollable. We knew this. We warned Casper. But he didn't listen. And now—"
"It's not his fault!" I roared through the mental link. "Drake drugged the champagne. Drake planned this. It's Drake's fault. Not Casper's."
"Casper should have been stronger. You would have been."
"Fuck you."
Zero went silent. Then he cut the link. Slammed it shut in my face.
"Cassian?" Casper's voice was barely audible. He was staring at Dad's face with desperate, pleading eyes. His lips moved, forming words he couldn't quite speak. His hands trembled where they supported Dad's legs.
I knew what he wanted to say. What he was thinking. That maybe, somehow, the doctors could still—
"Casper." I looked at him. Really looked at him. His shirt hung off one shoulder, torn. His hands were scraped raw. Bite marks covered his arms—self-inflicted, from fighting Leo for control. "He's dead. Do you understand that? Dad is dead."
Casper flinched like I'd struck him.
"I know you don't want to believe it," I continued, softer this time. "But he's gone."
"He looks peaceful," Casper whispered. His voice shook. "Like... like he fell asleep watching a game. Or lying in the garden with Mom."
He reached out. His fingers touched Dad's face. Gentle. Reverent. They trembled violently.
"He's not in pain," Casper said. "See? He's just... resting."
My throat tightened. "Casper—"
"Maybe..." His voice
. His eyes were wild now, desperate. "Maybe if we just—"
"He's dead!" The words exploded out of me. "Casper, he's fucking dead! Look at us! We're standing here in torn suits, covered in blood, holding our father's body. He's not sleeping. He's not going to wake up. He's never going to wake up again!"
Casper's face shattered. His whole body started shaking—violent tremors that made his teeth chatter. His hands slipped from Dad's legs and he stumbled backward, hitting the elevator wall.
"I know," he choked out. His voice was strangled, barely human. "I know he's... I know."
His knees buckled.
He slid down the wall slowly, like someone had cut his strings. His hands clawed at the mirrored surface, leaving bloody streaks. When he hit the floor, he curled in on himself—knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around his head.
And then he broke.
The sound that came out of him wasn't crying. It was something deeper. Rawer. A keening wail that made my chest ache. His whole body convulsed with sobs—ugly, gasping, desperate sobs that seemed to tear him apart from the inside.
"Mom won't even look at me," he gasped between sobs. "Did you see? When she touched me, she... she flinched. Like I'm poison. Like I'm a monster."
I remembered. Mom's hand on Casper's shoulder. How she'd jerked back like she'd been burned. How she'd looked at him with pure horror.
"She's in shock," I tried. My voice came out rough. "She doesn't mean—"
"She's afraid of me." Casper lifted his head. His face was destroyed—eyes swollen shut, nose running, lips cracked and bleeding where he'd bitten them. "She's afraid Leo will come back. That I'll lose control again. That I'll—" His voice went completely hoarse on the last word. "That I'll hurt someone else. That I'll hurt her."
My father's body was getting heavier. My arms screamed. But I couldn't move. Couldn't look away from my brother falling apart on the elevator floor.
"You won't," I said.
"You don't know that!" Casper's scream echoed in the small space. "I can still feel him! Right under my skin! Pacing! Waiting! What if he comes back? What if I can't stop him next time? What if—" He choked on a sob. "What if next time it's Mom? Or you? Or Elowen?"
His hands fisted in his hair. Pulled. Hard enough that I saw strands come loose.
"Mom hates me." The words came out broken. Destroyed. "Did you feel it? When she pulled away? She looked at me like... like I killed him on purpose. Like I wanted this." His sobs came harder. "She hates me, Cassian. My own mother hates me."
My heart cracked. Split clean down the middle.
This was my twin. My other half. The person who knew me better than anyone. And he was breaking. Shattering into pieces right in front of me.
And I couldn't even hold him. Because my arms were full of our dead father.