Chapter Sixty-Six – The Search
Caius tore through the woods, his breath ragged, fury and shame twisting in his gut. The scent of sex still clung to his skin, but all he could feel was the emptiness Cass left behind when she ran. Every branch that snapped against his chest felt deserved. Every thorn that clawed at his arms felt earned.
He reached the edge of the garden and scanned the clearing. Gone. The ceremonial torches still flickered in the dark, illuminating discarded clothing and wilted flower crowns, but there was no trace of her. No flash of white silk. No trace of her scent.
He paced, restless, like a beast caged in guilt. He gripped the edge of a stone fountain until his knuckles blanched. Memories of her face, the betrayal in her eyes, hit him again and again—harder than any blow he'd ever taken.
He hadn’t touched Eira. Not fully. But he had been about to.
And Cass had seen enough.
He turned toward the eastern path—the one that led down to the lake. Her lake. Her hiding place. He remembered the first time she had shown him the spot: a mossy bank surrounded by willows, where the world always seemed to fall away.
Caius ran.
Branches tore at his bare chest, his trousers barely clinging to his hips. He didn’t care. He needed to see her. Needed to explain. To beg. To fall to his knees and take whatever rage she needed to hurl at him.
Because she was the only thing that had ever made him want to be better.
And now she was running from him like he was the monster she always feared he could be.
He stumbled into the clearing by the lake.
But she wasn’t there.
Only the water. Still. Waiting.
And his own reflection—broken, furious, and alone.
But he didn’t stop.
Turning from the lake, he pushed on, breath burning in his lungs as he made his way back toward the castle. He checked every corridor, every empty hallway lit only by flickering sconces. Servants ducked out of sight at the sight of him—wild-eyed, half-dressed, reeking of desperation.
He reached her wing, pausing at the heavy wooden door to her chambers. He hesitated only a second before pressing his palm to the wood.
"Cass," he whispered.
Silence.
He turned the handle.
It wasn’t locked.
The room was dark save for the moonlight spilling through gauzy curtains. Her scent hit him like a blow to the chest. Sweet. Familiar. Heart-wrenching.
She was there.
On the far side of the room, back to him, sitting on the edge of the bed in her ceremonial gown—now askew, her hair loose and wild around her shoulders. Her shoulders were stiff, spine straight like she was holding herself together with sheer will.
"Cass," he tried again, voice hoarse. "Please."
She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Caius stepped forward, slow and careful, as if approaching a wounded animal. The moonlight carved soft light along her cheekbone, revealing the shimmer of unshed tears.
"Don’t," she said finally, voice tight. "Don’t say it. Don’t lie to me."
"I wasn’t going to lie," he said quietly. "I was going to fall on my knees."
She stood then, sudden and sharp. The gown slipped off one shoulder, revealing the bruising grip Alder had left behind during the ritual. Caius flinched at the sight.
"You were going to fuck her."
He swallowed hard. "I didn’t."
"But you wanted to."
He didn’t answer.
Her laugh was bitter. "That’s what hurts the most. That you were going to do it. That you let me walk away and still touched her."
He crossed the room in two steps. "Cass, I—"
"No," she snapped, pressing a hand to his chest. "You don’t get to say my name like that. Not anymore."
But her hand trembled. And he could feel the war raging behind her eyes.
So he whispered it again.
"Cass."
Her lip quivered. She turned just enough that he could see her eyes glistening with restrained emotion.
"Stop saying it like you love me," she whispered. "Because if you did, you wouldn’t have brought her to your lips. You wouldn’t have let me see you ready to claim her."
He stepped closer, his voice breaking. "I wasn’t thinking—I was angry, I was—"
"You were weak," she cut in, her voice low and venom-laced. "And I saw it. I saw you unravel for someone else while I was still bleeding for you."
Caius reached for her, but she stepped back, hands trembling at her sides.
"You made your choice," she said. "So stop pretending I’m still yours."
The room filled with silence again—heavy, aching, final.
Then Caius exploded.
"You think I wasn’t bleeding for you? You think watching him—watching him put his fucking fingers inside you, in front of everyone—didn’t rip me apart?"
Cass’s breath caught, but she didn’t speak.
"You think I touched Eira because I wanted her? No. I did it because I couldn’t bear the way you looked at him. Like he was everything. Like I was nothing."
He stepped closer, fire in his eyes. "You’re the one getting married. You’re the one who is going to be wearing his mark. And still, every breath I take, every second I try to forget you, you’re in my head. You’re under my skin."
Cass’s chest heaved. "I had no choice."
"You had a choice. Just like I did. And maybe I failed. But don’t act like you didn’t leave me the second he dangled the bond in front of you."
"Don’t you dare," she snapped. "Don’t you fucking dare act like you were the one abandoned. I begged you to stand by me, Caius. I begged you. And you turned away."
"Because you told me to!" he roared. "You told me to explore the bond!"
"And you did!"
They stood there—two hearts cracked open, bleeding all over the floor.
Breathless. Shaking.
And still, the silence begged them to say the one thing neither dared.
I love you.
Even now.