Elara's POV
He stands beside the bed. "Elara… you came."
His gaze is all over me, and I don't know if the right thing I should do is shut the door and walk back like I never came here. But he has seen me, and the way he's looking at me… I don't think he would let me go back the way I've come.
But somehow, I don't feel fear. It feels… familiar?
Oh… the way I feel is fluctuating. I can't depend on it. One second, I feel like crap, and the next, I feel at ease. So many feelings at the same time.
What about now? I don't know.
I should have told myself I didn't intend to see him, but I didn't. Maybe he already knows what has drawn me here and he's just playing dumb.
"Ash… Cassian." I try to make a sentence, but stop.
My heart is beating too fast and loud, and I f wr my chest might break open.
He can hear my heartbeat. I know he can.
He gets closer, but I don't step back.
Our eyes lock in a straight line that seems to deepen a connection I don't understand.
And I can see my reflection in his pupils just the same way I know he can see his in mine.
He hasn't said another word, except sending signals I haven't taken a hint of. He isn't weak, but I see the weakness in his eyes. His weakness isn't about his physical strength or his power as an Alpha. My senses tell me it is all about me, and I doubt if I should believe that.
"Dear mate… You came here to meet me." He finally lets words out of his mouth.
I shake my head, but nod immediately. What am I supposed to say to him?
I am drowning in confusion.
Is it that I care about pleasing him? I don't believe that. Why would I please a delusional werewolf who calls me his mate knowing fully well the troubles I've incurred from werewolves like him?
Of course Kael puts himself in the list of bad werewolves since he betrayed me.
"I notice you are coming," Cassian says, still putting up a calm voice to me. "Your sweet scent of Vanilla gives out your presence."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
My eyes trail down his skin. The cursed fur is not growing out, perhaps the growth goes on break to give him a bit of relief. At least his head wouldn't be hurting like when he was in my room, making the tough decision of not risking my life.
I touch the fingers of his right hand, raising them to the level of my waist.
"Oh sorry." I lose hold of his hand. "I didn't mean to."
I don't realize what brings my attention to his fingers.
"Everything about me is yours," he says.
He turns to look at the bed. Lyra is seated, watching us, and I haven't noticed. She stands up at Cassian's eyes, sluggishly walking out of the room, but glaring daggers at me.
When she is gone, Cassian sighs.
His eyes return to me. "I have a dream about you."
My eyebrows raise. "A dream about me?"
He nods, gently pulls me inside the room, shutting the door behind me. But I am conscious of each step I take inside as I never can tell if my presence inside the room is my own doom.
I believe my doom also exists in him, but how do I know that?
Perhaps the instance of my parents' death occurring in my mind each time I come close to him tells me so. I feel the chill of their death clawing at me at each look at him. But it also seems I am betraying my own thoughts.
Maybe my parents are trying to warn me about him, but at the same time, I can't deny the urge to stand close to him.
I'm trying to imagine how I got to this room, and how his scent drew me without my notice.
"It wasn't long ago." His voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
We stand so close that my boobs are starting to touch his chest. I don't step back.
"Not long ago? And it's a dream about me?"
"Yes." His hands walk up from my fingers to my upper arms.
I hold my breath for another second before easing out. If only he realizes the effect of his hands on me. If only he realizes it is hard for me to summon control of myself.
"What's this dream? What is it about?"
His hands let go of me as he steps back to sit on the bed. He avoids my gaze for a while, staring at the floor.
He shouldn't stop holding me.
But… shit! I already feel sticky between my legs. So fast?
He parts his lips to speak, but closes them when a word almost forms. It seems unusual to me. He doesn't seem to be someone who fails to speak. If it is something against me, he would let it out. He can't be scared of me, can he?
I divert my attention to focus on his lips.
I should kiss them. They would have a flavor of theirs. I kissed him the other day, but I didn't pay enough attention. I should try again.
"Elara?"
I jolt forward like I'm just waking up from a nightmare.
"Are you okay?" He narrows his eyes on me.
"Yes. Yes I am."
He shakes his head, patting the bed for me to sit beside him. "Stay close so I ensure you're perfect."
I oblige.
He makes me fix my eyes on him.
"Concerning the dream I have…" He starts. "I've decided I shouldn't tell you about it. Not now."
"But you say this dream is about me."
"Yes." His fingers go through my hair. "It isn't good to learn about it at this time. It wouldn't help me, especially with all this resistance in your heart."
These words only make me feel lost. Starting something to catch my interest and then stopping halfway is upsetting enough. It is worse since he does it like it is a normal thing to do.
"Dear mate," he calls me this name again. "Wouldn't it be nice if there was some sort of consummation of our bond?"
What is it about consummation? I mean, between us?
His fingers are still into my hair. He digs deep until he can feel the warmth of my skull. He gives me a soft massage up there, and it feels like he is setting up an antenna for intimate communication between us.
I feel the vibration from his touch, and my body interprets it as him speaking in sexual tunes—relax yourself and let the pleasure flow all over you.
"There should be consummation between us, right?" He says with a deeper voice.
That is him taking this too far. But I'm too far gone to ask him to stop this.
"Hmm…" I clench my teeth to suppress a moan from escaping.
"I will become feral," he tells me. "Definitely. That's my fate."
"You shouldn't become feral." I touch his cheek, shaking my head. "I don't want you to be in that state, no."
Wait… I just said those words?
What the hell is wrong with me?
I am going crazy because of him, and it's unsettling that at this moment, I can't help it. I don't know him, so why do I care if he's going feral?
I'm not supposed to care. Or it isn't about him, but because I'm so much of a kind hearted person that finds it hard to watch people go into a bad state. Even though I know that's a lie. It's much more than that.
"You do care," he says with a smirk on his face.
He lets his fingers fall to my neck, and at this point, I don't care what I'm supposed to do or what not to. This doesn't make sense, but my body is craving his touch. My feet are losing their grip on the floor.
My mind is failing to judge him.