Where Soft Light Shines Darkness Fades From Tired Hearts by Evan Holt Crane 388
Third Person’s POV
Trista clutched the fabric at her chest, her knuckles turning white from the strain.
Cassian kept one arm locked around her waist, his eyes a bloody, predatory red.
He held her in a vice grip, his suffocating pine scent drowning out her every sense.
Finished
He let out a low, jagged rasp, his teeth grazing her earlobe–a primal, savage move an Alpha makes before a formal marking. “Trista, you are mine… I don’t care if I have to break you, you’re mine.”
“Anyone who tries to touch you? I’ll rip their throat out.”
For the first time, Trista felt real fear.
In her memory, Cassian was a cold, calculating bastard, but she’d never seen him lose it like this.
He looked like a beast that had finally torn off the mask of civilization.
She shoved against him, her heart racing, but Cassian just inhaled her scent greedily, refusing to let go.
His frantic need wasn’t just messing with her head–it was pushing his own restraint to the breaking point.
“You’re mine,” he growled into her skin, giving her a direct command. “I won’t allow another male anywhere near you!”
Trista’s mind was a mess. If she’d known stopping for the restroom meant falling into this lunatic’s trap, she would’ve stayed downstairs until she burst.
Just as they were locked in that toxic stalemate, Rowena’s voice echoed from the hallway.
Trista went rigid, her heart skipping a beat.
If anyone walked in and saw her and Cassian looking this disheveled, she’d never be able to clear her
name.
She clutched her dress shut and held her breath, allowing Cassian to hold her from behind in a suffocating embrace.
A moment later, Fred’s voice drifted in. He made up a quick excuse, steering Rowena back toward the stairs.
A few minutes passed before Fred gave the door a light tap. “Hallway’s clear. Get out of there.”
Cassian looked like he wanted to stay, but he finally let her go.
Trista scrambled to fix her dress.
Suddenly, a sharp, stinging sound echoed through the room.
12:57 pm PD
Finished
Trista stared him down, and before Cassian could even open his mouth, she slammed the door in his face.
Fred was waiting in the hallway. His eyes flickered to the obvious red mark on Trista’s neck. He looked away awkwardly and pointed toward the restroom.
Trista, flushed with shame and rage, pulled her hair forward to hide the mark and ran past him.
Fred pushed the door open. The air in the room was still thick with the heavy, electric tension of their
encounter.
He handed Cassian a cigarette. “Held it in all night, then saw Elias hold her and finally snapped, huh?”
Cassian walked to the window without a word, the cigarette between his fingers.
He kept his back to Fred, hiding a face twisted with dark obsession.
Fred stood beside him, purposely poking the nerve. “I thought I heard a pretty loud crack out there. Did someone’s face have a run–in with a palm?”
Cassian raised his hand, his fingertips tracing the cheek where Trista had slapped him.
He glanced at Fred with a cold, hollow smirk but said nothing.
Once the cigarette burned down, the two Alphas walked back down the hall.
When Trista came back out, she’d borrowed a shawl from Penelope, wrapping it tightly to hide the incriminating mark on her neck.
She said a quick goodbye to Zander, desperate to leave before things got any worse.
Isaiah, ever the scout, noticed immediately. He plucked at a tassel on her shawl. “Trista, is it finally too cold for you in L.A.?”
Trista didn’t blink. “I spilled something on my dress in the restroom. Just trying to stay decent.”
Elias’s son was practically asleep on his feet, so the Manwarings walked out with Trista.
At the boundary, Sayer gripped Trista’s hand, his voice tiny and sweet. “Dad, I want to go to Godmom’s house. I don’t want to go home.”
Elías picked up his son. “She is tired tonight, Sayer. Be a big boy.”
Sayer pouted and dropped a bombshell. “Dad, why don’t you come with me? We can watch her while she sleeps, then you can drive her to work tomorrow!”
Isaiah let out a wicked laugh and gave the kid’s car a tug. “I don’t think you want Godmom. I think you want to find your dad a mate and get yourself a new mommy!”
Elias’s expression went stern. He gave Trista a polite nod of apology. “I’m sorry. Pups have no filters. I’ll make sure he understands boundaries when we get home.”
Once the Manwarings left, Trista, Attwater, and Isaiah piled into the sports car.
2:57 pm P
Finished
Isaiah grumbled as he gripped the steering wheel, “Trista, that kid is a fox in sheep’s clothing. You’d better watch out, or that father–son duo is going to trap you.”
Trista couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s a child, Isaiah. Your jealousy is hitting a weird target.”
Attwater leaned forward from the backseat, his tone turning serious. “Why is Madison always gunning for you? I could smell the hate on her from across the room.”
Trista pursed her lips and didn’t answer. Instead, she gave both men a heavy warning. “Cassian is extremely unstable right now. Do not–and I mean do not–provoke him for a while. Got it?”
Isaiah and Attwater traded a guilty look and gave a perfectly synchronized nod.
Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.