After weighing their findings, the group ca to a unanimous decision. At dawn, they would go to the temple. There was no point in delaying. Whatever secrets Galdreth was hiding, they needed to uncover them before it was too late.
Cassian dismissed the eting, and one by one, they left his room, their expressions grim but resolute.
Alistair lingered for a mont longer. "Get so rest," he said, though his eyes hinted at his own exhaustion. "Tomorrow might be worse than we expect."
Cassian gave a small nod, and with that, Alistair left, closing the door behind him.
Cassian exhaled.
The room was quiet now, save for the occasional flicker of the oil lamp in the corner. He rubbed his temples, fully expecting a sleepless night. His mind was restless, filled with unanswered questions, unease, and the ever-present weight of responsibility.
He did not know if he could sleep peacefully today.
But the mont his head hit the pillow, exhaustion claid him.
His breathing evened out in seconds, the tension in his muscles fading. The worries of the day lted away as sleep took hold of him, dragging him into a deep slumber.
But suddenly, sothing stirred in the stillness of the night, and a figure appeared beside Cassian’s bed.
The room was filled with a distinct scent, thick with masculinity and power.
The intruder slowly moved forward and settled beside Cassian’s sleeping form, his straight back resting against the wall, one knee bent over the other in a careless, almost lazy posture.
If one did not know, they would have thought that he was the owner of the room.
Pale fingers traced the length of Cassian’s hand, brushing over his knuckles, playing idly with his fingers as if they were a treasured possession.
The flickering candlelight montarily illuminated his face.
Sharp, regal features.
Eyes dark as the abyss, with a hint of blood red.
A presence that was both oppressive and strangely tender.
Dorian.
Or rather, the Demon King.
His lips curled in faint amusent as he studied Cassian’s sleeping face, taking in the soft rise and fall of his chest, the slight furrow of his brows even in rest.
Cassian always carried burdens too heavy for him. Even now, even in sleep, he looked as if he was fighting sothing unseen.
Dorian sighed softly, his breath warm against Cassian’s cheek.
"You’re a little troublemaker, you know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "No matter how hard I try to take you away from trouble, I always find you standing in front of it."
"You know curiosity killed the cat, but in your case, you will fall early into my trap."
"Would you like it? I believe not."
"You are not a free bird, my free bird."
Dorian’s voice was a re whisper, lost in the hush of the night, but there was an undeniable weight behind each word.
His fingers continued their slow exploration, brushing lightly over Cassian’s calloused hands, tracing the delicate lines of his knuckles, the faint scars that spoke of endless battles.
"You have only a few days to fly high, my dear," he murmured, his voice deep and laced with sothing possessive. "Because you know you have to co back. Co back to where you belong. To the place that yearns for you."
Dorian leaned forward, his breath warm against Cassian’s skin.
Slowly, he pressed his forehead to Cassian’s, his dark locks spilling over the pillow. His fingers moved to Cassian’s wrist, feeling the steady pulse beneath his touch.
The warmth between them was subtle, almost innocent.
Almost.
He closed his eyes for a brief mont, reveling in the quiet closeness.
Cassian stirred, his brows drawing together in discomfort. A soft breath escaped his lips, but he did not wake.
Dorian chuckled, his lips curling with amusent.
"Still so stubborn," he mused. "Even in sleep, you resist."
His gaze flickered over Cassian’s face, lingering on his parted lips, the slight flush on his cheeks from the warmth of the room.
Tempting.
Dorian’s restraint, already fragile, wavered.
Leaning down, he let his lips graze the shell of Cassian’s ear. A feather-light touch, teasing.
Cassian shifted again, his body reacting to the sensation, though his mind remained lost in slumber.
Encouraged, Dorian let his teeth brush over the sensitive skin before capturing the lobe between his lips, biting down just enough to elicit a reaction.
A quiet, breathy sound slipped past Cassian’s lips.
Dorian stilled.
His fingers twitched slightly, his grip unconsciously tightening as a slow smirk tugged at his lips.
Interesting.
He had expected Cassian to wake—perhaps with a glare, his big doe eyes filled with anger and fear of him, his lips quivering with speechlessness.
But instead, Cassian remained asleep.
Vulnerable.
Completely at his rcy.
Dorian’s smirk deepened.
Perhaps just a little more.
His lips trailed lower, brushing against the curve of Cassian’s jaw, down to the pulse at his throat. He could feel it quicken beneath his touch, and the sound of Cassian’s breathing, slightly uneven now, sent a spark of satisfaction through him.
A part of him wanted to push further. To see how much more he could unravel before Cassian finally woke.
But he resisted.
Barely.
Instead, he settled back, though his hand remained loosely entwined with Cassian’s.
His gaze softened, the amusent giving way to sothing deeper, sothing he would never admit aloud.
"Sleep well, my free bird," he murmured. "For soon, you will wake to a world that will try to take you from again."
"But don’t worry, I will co again tomorrow. You will wait for , okay?"
And maybe if I decide to do sothing, be ready for it, Dorian added with a mischievous smirk, his eyes filled with a deep love he couldn’t describe.
But in his opinion, it was not love. It was an obsession to keep Cassian with him. Because it was the only place Cassian belonged. No one in the world had the right to separate Cassian from him. Or they would burn in his fury.
His thumb brushed over Cassian’s knuckles one last ti before, like a shadow fading into the night, he vanished.
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