The drive to Rafael's estate was silent except for the steady hum of rain against the car roof. Anabeth sat in the back seat beside Rafael, his arm resting along the seat as if to shield her from the world outside. Marco drove, stone-faced as always.
But Cassian…
Cassian rode in the front passenger seat, posture rigid, jaw locked, eyes fixed unapologetically on the mirror—on her.
He wasn't subtle about it.
His gaze flicked up every few seconds, and each time their eyes met, her breath caught. Not because she feared him. No.
Because Cassian was looking at her like a man drowning who'd just realized he wasn't supposed to want the lifeline reaching toward him.
Rafael noticed.
Of course he did.
And every time Cassian's eyes lingered too long, Rafael's hand tightened slightly on her arm—possessive, protective, quietly claiming her.
Tension filled the car like thick fog.
No one spoke.
But Cassian's silence was the loudest.
---
They reached the estate after twenty minutes. Thunder rumbled overhead, rolling across the sky like an omen. Rafael helped Anabeth out of the car, keeping a firm hold on her hand as they walked toward the entrance.
Cassian exited next, slower, his eyes following her every movement.
Rafael stopped at the door and glanced over his shoulder.
"Cassian. Inside. Now."
Cassian didn't move at first.
Then he stepped forward, face unreadable.
Once inside, Rafael led Anabeth to the main sitting room. The air smelled faintly of cedar and rain—a grounding scent she hadn't realized she needed.
"Sit," Rafael said gently. "You're safe here."
She sat on the edge of the couch, hands clasped in her lap. Cassian stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her like a hawk.
Rafael turned on him instantly.
"You're hovering."
Cassian didn't flinch. "I'm doing my job."
"You're doing more than that," Rafael said quietly.
Anabeth's eyes widened.
Cassian's expression hardened. "If you're implying—"
"I'm not implying anything," Rafael snapped. "I'm stating a fact."
The room tightened.
Cassian looked away first, but only for a moment. When his gaze returned to her, it softened—just barely—but Rafael caught it.
His voice dipped dangerously low.
"You're staring at her."
Cassian straightened. "I'm making sure she's alright."
"You're not looking at her like a bodyguard," Rafael said. "You're looking at her like a man who wants what he can't have."
Silence.
Raw, heavy, explosive.
Anabeth's breath caught. "Rafael—"
He raised a hand gently. "I need honesty right now. No games."
Cassian stepped forward, the first crack of emotion breaking through his usually icy composure.
"You told me to protect her," he said quietly. "But you didn't prepare me for what that would feel like."
Anabeth's heart thudded painfully.
Rafael's eyes narrowed. "What exactly does it feel like, Cassian?"
Cassian swallowed hard. His words came low, rough.
"Like I'd kill anyone who touches her."
Her pulse stuttered.
Rafael stiffened. "That's my line, Cassian."
"Not anymore," Cassian whispered.
The room stood still.
Anabeth's fingers curled reflexively, her breath shaking. Cassian's confession wasn't loud, but its impact hit her like a tidal wave.
He wasn't just protecting her.
He cared. Deeply. And he didn't know how to hide it anymore.
Rafael stepped forward, jaw clenched. "Cassian. Outside."
Cassian didn't budge.
Rafael's voice sharpened. "Now."
Something in his tone made the air crackle. Cassian finally turned, brushing past Rafael with a tension so thick it seemed to cling to the walls.
The moment he left the room, Rafael exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair.
Anabeth stood slowly. "Rafael… don't be angry with him."
His head snapped toward her. "You think I'm angry because he cares?"
She faltered. "Aren't you?"
Rafael shook his head. "No, Anabeth. I'm angry because it puts him in danger. And it puts you in danger."
She didn't understand. "How?"
Rafael stepped close, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers—soft, gentle, intimate.
"Because when a man like Cassian feels something he shouldn't," Rafael murmured, "he loses clarity. And clarity is the only thing that keeps us alive."
Her breath trembled.
"He cares about you," Rafael continued. "Enough to break rules. Enough to get himself killed."
She swallowed. "I didn't ask him to feel anything."
Rafael's expression softened. "No. But you didn't have to."
Before she could respond, the double doors suddenly opened again.
Cassian.
Rain clung to his hair; he must've gone outside for air. His chest rose and fell with restrained frustration. He closed the doors behind him and faced them.
"Rafael. We have a problem."
Rafael stiffened. "What now?"
Cassian's eyes moved directly to Anabeth—protective, intense, conflicted.
"One of the surveillance cameras captured the man from campus," Cassian said. "He's been circling the estate."
Anabeth's blood froze.
"Right now?" she whispered.
Cassian nodded once. "He's watching the house."
Rafael grabbed his phone instantly and gave orders to his men in rapid-fire Italian. He moved toward the exit, shoulders rigid with fury.
"Cassian," he ordered without turning back, "stay with her until I return."
Cassian hesitated.
Then he walked into the room fully, closing the distance between him and Anabeth slowly.
Rafael paused at the doorway, watching them.
Cassian's eyes never left her. "I won't let anything happen to her."
Rafael's jaw tightened, but he nodded and stormed out with his men.
The heavy doors closed.
Now it was just Cassian and Anabeth in the vast silence of the sitting room.
Cassian took a slow breath and stepped closer, the storm outside echoing the one building inside him.
He stopped only a foot away.
"Anabeth," he whispered, voice trembling with a emotion he could no longer hide,
"you have no idea what you're doing to me."
Her heartbeat thundered.
And for the first time—
Cassian wasn't hiding.
He wasn't pretending.
He wasn't burying the impossible.
He wanted her.
And that was going to tear everything apart.