51- Our Scars
Iris.
I had always wanted to be a wife. A woman who loved and was loved. Someone who supported and was supported. Someone who protected and was protected. I had always dreamt of that future with Kavriel. One where I would have his ring on my finger and we would sleep cuddled up in each other’s arms, but that was until he chose my half–sister. Until he betrayed me, sent me to die, and killed my mother. Whatever love I had in my heart for him had shriveled up and died.
I toyed with the obsidian ring on my finger. There were times when I preferred not to acknowledge it. It was too painful to think that I belonged to another man. A monster…or so I had thought. But the truth was different.
Cassian was not at all what I had made him out to be. The Alpha that had towered over me, his gaze menacing and his touch deadly, was not who he truly was. It was indeed a relief, but there were always two sides to a coin. Everything had a disadvantage. And now I found myself not feeling dread anymore. The thought of the ring around my finger made my heart swell, the thought of hirn made my stomach flutter. I was falling, and I was falling fast. It would not be long before I would hit the ground.
But falling felt beautiful, it felt wonderful. I wanted to keep falling and ignore the fact that at some point I would hit the ground. I found that it was not only lone who wanted to see him happy, I wanted that too. I wanted to see more of his rare smiles. His lightheartedness was like the sun after a long, heavy rain.
I had come to a decision even before I made the promise to Ione, I would make him happy. I would be his wife. It would be my appreciation for all that he had supported me with and protected me from. I would be his wife, I told myself. Even if it meant that I would keep falling, I would do it.
“Tell me about your scars,” I blurted. Cassian looked up from where he had been sitting.
He looked at me, surprise flickering across his face. He wasn’t used to my sudden questions, my boldness that seemed to come out of nowhere. But I needed to know, needed to understand the man I was falling for.
“My scars?” he echoed, his voice low and cautious. I nodded, my gaze steady on his. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, the walls he had built around his past.
“Yes, your scars. They tell a story, don’t they?” I urged softly. “A story I’d like to hear.” It would be the first step. I wanted to let him know that he could speak to me and confide in me.
Cassian’s expression softened, and he flashed a smile that was aimed straight at my heart. “They are just scars, Iris. They are nothing.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Cassian…” I urged, but I kept my tone soft. “Every scar has a story.”
“Like yours,” he murmured.
I blinked in surprise before I recovered. “Yes, like mine. You know what?” I said, sounding more upbeat.
He flashed me another smile that would have knocked me off my feet if I was still standing. “What?” he asked.
I gulped but went on. “We will trade stories,” I said. I took a deep breath before tapping the bed, gesturing for him to sit closer to me.
I saw the expression of surprise ghost over his features before he got up and walked leisurely over to the bed.
He sat down, his eyes never leaving mine. “You were saying?” he asked.
I blinked, having been slightly taken away. “As I was saying, we will trade stories. You will tell me about your scars and I will, in turn, tell you about
mine.”
He still looked at me, and I could see the hesitation in his eyes.
I was losing, I panicked.
“And you know something else?” I blurted.
He raised a brow, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “What?” he asked.
I patted my lap. “You can even lay your head on my lap as you tell the story.”
“Wow!” He feigned a gasp. “That’s amazing! It’s a two–in–one. I get to lay my head on your lap and tell you about my scars? I’m in,” he said, his playful tone masking the seriousness that lingered in his eyes.
I couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic response, hitting him in the chest playfully, only for him to wince.
“I am so sorry,” I said in a panic. “I didn’t mean to-
H
Instead, he just burst into laughter. “You actually fell for it.”
I blinked in surprise and hit him again. “You sly manl” But I was grateful for his teasing. It lightened the mood and would make it easier for him to open up. Cassian moved closer, his body heat radiating against mine. All of a sudden, he pulled off his top.
I gasped and looked away, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Cassian…what are you doing?”
He chuckled, taking my chin so I would look at him, but I kept my eyes on his instead of the large expanse of his chest. “If I am going to tell you about my scars, you are going to have to see them.”
My breath hitched as I reluctantly let my gaze drift downward, taking in the sight of his scarred, muscular chest. It was quite a sight and I felt an influx of unruly butterflies in my stomach. I felt the urge to kiss his chest and trace my tongue over the muscled expanse. I shook away the consuming thoughts.
Setting
21:04
51 Our Scars
“Alright,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Show me.”
Cassian’s eyes softened, and he laid his head on my lap. I instinctively reached out to stroke his hair. He took a deep breath before pointing to a long, jagged scar across his left shoulder. “This one,” he began, “is from a fight with a rival Alpha. I was young, and I thought I had something to prove. It was a lesson in humility, a reminder that strength isn’t just about winning but about endurance.”
I reached out tentatively, my fingers lightly tracing the scar. He shivered under my touch but didn’t pull away. “You must have been so brave,” I said softly.
“Or foolish,” he replied with a wry smile. “But it taught me resilience.”
He moved my hand to a smaller, yet deeper scar near his ribs. “This one,” he continued, “was from when Rolan and I nearly killed each other. It was the biggest brawl in the history of this castle.” He chuckled.
“Bet you left more wounds on him,” I laughed.
“I pummeled him,” Cassian said with pride.
I chuckled again. “What were you two fighting about?” I asked through my laughter.
He suddenly went quiet. I looked down to see a distant, cold expression on his face. “A girl,” he answered. “I won the brawl, but he won the girl.”
32 Her Protector
