CASSIAN

“You gonna keep staring at me like that?” Ayla asked, eyes still locked on the trees as we approached the gates.

I didn’t answer.

What the hell was I supposed to say?

Yes. I was going to stare. Because three years without her hadn't erased the curve of her mouth, or the way her spine never bent even when everything else broke.

“I can feel your thoughts gnawing a hole in my back,” she muttered.

“Trust me,” I said. “If you were in my head, you’d be running again.”

“I still might.”

---

The guards parted as we reached Moonfang. One of them blinked at me, confused.

“Alpha—she—”

“She’s not your concern,” I said sharply. “Neither is the child.”

Ayla let out a bitter laugh. “Gods, I forgot how charming this place is.”

“You weren’t missed,” Rafe murmured behind us.

She spun. “Wanna say that again louder, mutt?”

“Say it to my face, Luna.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

Rafe smirked. “Touchy.”

“Rafe,” I warned.

He backed off. Just barely.

We passed through the gates in silence. The weight of her footsteps on pack soil again felt like a thunderclap in my chest.

---

I led them to the war room.

“You couldn’t offer a guest room?” she asked.

“You’re not a guest.”

She raised a brow. “So what am I?”

“An uninvited complication.”

“Charming and emotionally stunted. Classic Cassian.”

I turned to face her. “You really want to throw barbs right now? After nearly getting torn to shreds?”

“I didn’t ask for your rescue.”

“No, you just dragged our kid into the middle of a war zone and hoped the shadows were bluffing.”

Her eyes flared. “Don’t you dare—”

“Don’t I dare? I’m the one who didn’t know I had a son, Ayla.”

She flinched. For once, quiet.

“I would’ve—” I started.

“You would’ve what, Cassian?” Her voice was low now. “Claimed him while you played politics with your chosen mate? Raised him to obey the man who threw his mother away?”

“I didn’t throw you away.”

“You didn’t fight for me.”

The silence between us pulsed like a bruise.

I exhaled. “Things were complicated.”

“No,” she said flatly. “You were a coward.”

I took a step forward. “And you were already halfway gone before I made the call.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You think I didn’t notice?” I said. “You were slipping away. In your eyes. In your voice. You’d already left me in your head long before your body followed.”

Her mouth opened. Then closed.

But she didn’t deny it.

---

Leif stirred. She turned immediately.

I followed her gaze—his chest rising and falling, soft breath curling in the air.

“He looks like you,” I said quietly.

“No,” she replied. “He is his own person.”

“He’s mine too.”

Her jaw clenched. “That doesn’t mean you get to step in and play father now.”

“I’m not trying to play anything.”

“Then what are you doing, Cassian?”

I looked at her for a long time. “Trying not to lose him before I even get to know him.”

She folded her arms. “And what if I don’t let you?”

“Then I’ll fight you.”

Her brow arched. “You want another war?”

“If it gets me a piece of the blood I didn’t know I left behind?”

I took another step toward her.

“I’ll fight for him, Ayla. Not against you. With you, if you'll let me.”

She said nothing. Just stared.

But the fire in her eyes had shifted.

Softer. Not forgiven. But not untouched, either.

---

Later, Rafe cornered me in the hallway.

“You’re serious about this?” he asked.

“She’s the boy’s mother,” I said.

“And a flight risk.”

“I’ll chain her to the walls if I have to.”

Rafe grunted. “Kinky.”

I glared. “You breathe that joke again, I’ll rip your tongue out.”

He raised his hands. “She just better not run again. That kid... he’s not ordinary.”

“I know.”

“You feel it too?”

I nodded. “She’s been hiding something. Something even she doesn’t fully understand.”

“And you think she’ll stay long enough to figure it out?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But if she does… maybe this time, I’ll actually fight hard enough to make her stay.”

I started to walk past her, but she caught my arm.

“Cassian,” she said softly.

I turned.

For once, she didn’t look like a warrior or a mother or a woman with teeth sharp enough to gut me in four words flat.

She just looked… tired. Torn open. Human.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again. Let alone... him.”

“I didn’t plan it this way.”

“Didn’t plan on hiding him, either?”

She flinched.

I sighed and stepped closer. Not to intimidate. Not this time.

“I would’ve helped you,” I said quietly. “If I’d known. Even after everything. I would’ve been there.”

She looked up at me. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I might believe you.”

My breath caught.

Her eyes searched mine like she was looking for something she didn’t trust herself to want. And gods help me, I let her.

I reached up—slowly—and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Her breath hitched.

“Ayla—”

“Don’t.”

But she didn’t pull away.

She stepped into me instead.

Just a heartbeat. A brush of breath. My hand cradling her jaw. Her fingers tightening on my shirt.

Her lips parted.

So did mine.

And then—our mouths met.

One second.

Hot. Wrong. Familiar. Dangerous.

She pulled away first, eyes blazing. “That was a mistake.”

“Then why are you still standing here?”

Her chest heaved. Mine did too.

I waited for her to slap me. Curse me.

Instead, she whispered,

“Do that again and I swear, I won’t leave next time.”

Then she turned.

Walked out.

Left me standing there—

blood still under my nails,

her taste still on my lips,

and hope roaring in my throat like a second damn heartbeat.