Chapter 20 Not Liking What I See
Cassain's Perspective
“My mother’s business is doing better than ever,” Lexa says brightly from the seat beside me, her voice cutting through the low hum of dinner conversation. “She’s expanding into three new regions this year. My brother will be taking over most of it soon, of course—but I still get half the profits.”
“Mm,” I murmur, poking at my food.
I chew slowly, forcing myself to swallow even though I’ve lost my appetite. The roasted meat on my plate looks fine. Perfect, even. But the moment I take another bite, it tastes off. Bitter. Like I’m chewing obligation instead of dinner.
Sitting here, across from polite smiles and hopeful glances, pretending I’m interested in choosing a bride feels more exhausting by the minute.
Lexa doesn’t notice. She rarely does.
“I could’ve taken over the business myself,” she continues, dragging her fork lazily through her vegetables. The metal scrapes against my mother’s expensive dinnerware sharp and irritating, a sound that makes something in my jaw tighten.
“But honestly, I’d rather marry well. I want a man who’ll take care of me. That’s not too much to ask, right?”
“No,” I say flatly. “It’s not.”
It’s the expected answer. The polite one.
These women aren’t cruel. They aren’t stupid. They’re perfectly pleasant, perfectly groomed, perfectly prepared for the role they’ve been raised to play.
And I’m sitting here, playing mine, smiling when expected, nodding at the right moments, pretending that any of this matters to me.
But it doesn’t.
My attention drifts, traitorously and my gaze betrays me, drifting down the long table without permission.
Nova sits several seats away, her body angled toward the man beside her. Lexa’s brother, I think. I hadn’t bothered committing the name to memory until now.
She’s talking with her hands, animated, eyes bright in a way I rarely see when she’s forced into polite company. The sight of their heads leaning toward each other pulls something tight in my chest.
Her cheeks are faintly flushed. She’s smiling.
I don’t like it.
They lean closer as they speak.
Too close.
I narrow my eyes without realizing it.
“Beyond visiting you and your village,” Nova is saying, her voice carrying just enough for me to catch, “I think I’d love to travel someday. Really travel. Outside the Pack borders. See what’s out there.”
The man’s smile widens, clearly pleased. “Traveling is one of life’s great pleasures,” he says easily. “I’d recommend it to anyone. Maybe one day I can convince you to join me on one of my trips.”
My fingers tighten around my fork as I shift in my chair. Somewhere beside me, Lexa keeps talking, but her words blur into meaningless noise.
“That sounds lovely,” Nova replies without hesitation. “Thought it would have to be after everything here is… resolved.”
Resolved?
Resolved how?
And with whom?
The word sticks with me, sharp and unwelcome.
“I doubt anyone would object to you taking a small holiday,” he says, nudging her lightly with his elbow. His plate remains untouched, his attention fixed entirely on her.
“Cassain?”
I blink and turn toward Lexa, realizing far too late that she’s been trying to get my attention.
“I’m sorry, What did you say?” I ask.
She tilts her head, studying me. “Are you alright? You seem… distracted.”
“I’m fine,” I say, even though it’s a lie. Or at least not the full truth.
Guilt pricks at me. None of this is her fault. I’m the one leading them on, offering polite half-responses while my thoughts are somewhere they shouldn’t be.
I clear my throat and push my chair back, rising to my feet. The scrape of wood against the floor draws the attention of the table, conversations tapering off as heads turn toward me.
“I want to thank you all for attending,” I say evenly, letting my Alpha voice settle in. “I know this situation may feel… intimidating. But with family members here to support you, I hope you’ll all find comfort while you stay.”
There are smiles. Nervous nods. A few relieved glances.
When I sit back down, I catch Nova's eye. She gives me a small nod, like she approves of the speech.
She won’t approve for long.
She’ll be realizing soon that my intentions are not exactly innocent.
My gaze shifts deliberately to the man beside her.
I let my attention settle fully on the man seated beside her, studying him the way one might examine a loose thread, curious, cautious, and already annoyed.
“So,” I say casually looking to their direction, though nothing about this feels casual, “what are you to Lexa? A brother?”
Hr nearly drops his fork in his haste to straighten. “Yes, sir. Jax. Lexa is my sister.”
“Then perhaps you should sit next to her,” I suggest, nodding toward the empty space at Lexa’s side.
Abigail, freezes mid-motion, her hands hovering uncertainly over her napkin as she waits to see if she’s expected to move.
Lexa lets out a sharp sound. “No, absolutely not,” she says, shooting her brother a glare. “I hardly want him here as it is.”
I ignore her.
I want Jax closer. Close enough that I can hear every word he says. Close enough that he doesn’t have the freedom to lean toward Nova again and fill her head with pretty promises of travel and adventure. I’ve heard subtler flirting from men who make a sport of it.