CASSIAN

I wasn’t looking for him. I was on my way to the south wing to check the training bracket when I caught the scent of wildflowers and ink. Serena. And there he was. Zion. On the table. Her hand on his chest. Their lips locked into an embrace I was familiar with.

“What the hell,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

Zion flinched. Serena turned, casually brushing her hand along Zion’s jaw like it was nothing. “Aw, Cassian. You look jealous,” she ...