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wolfnesta · 2 days

Note

Want to write the reverse of your wlw nessian drabble where cas doesn’t realize she’s gay yet but nesta thinks cas stares at her boobs a little too much to be straight

hell yeah I do. hope y’all enjoy this one and happy @nestaarcheronweek day 4 🩷 got the title from tangerine by kehlani hehe

Read on AO3 here!

“Are you going to keep staring down my shirt, or can we get this presentation done?”

Cass startled so badly at Nesta’s words that she nearly knocked over her water, only barely managing to catch the reusable bottle at the last second. “What?”

Cass and Nesta had been paired up as partners for their advanced writing requirement course, and they’d been making steady progress on their presentation in one of the library’s group study rooms. Cass was an education major to Nesta’s political science, and Cass had never been so excited for a group project in her life.

At least, until Nesta had shown up to the library wearing that shirt. It was just a simple, blue, wrap-tie shirt, but between the way it made Nesta’s eyes look even bluer than usual and the way it perfectly cupped her breasts, Cass was having a difficult time staying focused on the task at hand.

“Sorry,” Cass said, hoping her face wasn’t as red as it felt from being called out. She’d thought she was being more discreet, but Nesta had clearly proved that theory wrong. “I was just, uh, zoned out.”

“Were you zoned out the other three times, too?” Nesta fired back without missing a beat.

“I…” Cass trailed off, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound insane. “I just think your shirt is really… cute.”

Nesta Archeron was easily one of the most gorgeous women that Cass had ever seen. With her gray-blue eyes, bronze hair, and amazing fashion sense, Cass spent most of her time wanting to be just like Nesta. Granted, Cass was way too much of a tomboy to pull off even a quarter of Nesta’s wardrobe, but a woman could dream, right? And who better to dream about that Nesta Archeron, especially when she had on a shirt like that?

“Right,” Nesta replied with the most deadpan voice Cass had ever heard. She sighed heavily before shutting her laptop altogether, fixing Cass with a slightly incredulous look. “Are you ever going to get your shit together and ask me out?”

“What?” Cass blurted out, all the blood in her body rushing to her cheeks. God, she hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I don’t—”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Cass, I can do this assignment in my sleep. I just wanted to make sure my gaydar was working.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cass answered. Okay, maybe sometimes she found herself staring way longer than she should’ve when it came to pretty women, but that was just… what everyone did. That didn’t mean she was anything more than a strong ally, no matter how many times she cringed when a man came near her.

“Don’t you?” Nesta asked, cocking an eyebrow. She leaned forward, a victorious little smirk gracing her lips as Cass’ eyes immediately tracked the motion. “Well that’s a yes.”

“It’s not my fault you have a great rack,” Cass blurted out, her brain to mouth filter evaporating altogether.

Nesta snorted. “I’m not making you look at it.”

“If I wasn’t looking, I’d have to be dead,” Cass muttered.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Nesta retorted with a roll of her eyes.

Before Cass could think of a proper reply — Nesta thought she was pretty? — Nesta reached out and grabbed a hold of Cass’ chair, pulling her own so close that there was no room to escape. Not that Cass was feeling particularly inclined to do that, anyway. It was dizzying having Nesta so close; she was pinned under that icy gaze and couldn’t back away even if she wanted to.

Cass didn’t want to.

“I’m going to finish this assignment when I get home,” Nesta said, her voice low and offering no argument. “Give you some time to think about… things.”

“Think about what?” Cass said back. She was hardly breathing as Nesta leaned in even closer, placing her hand on the chair in between Cass’ thighs for balance.

Nesta was close enough now that it would’ve been easy for Cass to lean in and kiss her, and find out if her lips were as soft as they looked. Cass’ lips parted in anticipation, every thought in her mind besides Nesta emptying out like they’d never been there at all, and she was torn between leaning forward to kiss her or letting Nesta continue to order Cass around like she owned her.

What the hell was wrong with her?

“That’s what I thought,” Nesta breathed after a few moments, her lips still dangerously close to Cass’ own. When Nesta laughed quietly at Cass’ reflexive frown, Cass could almost feel the vibrations on her lips, and God wasn’t that a thought. “You’re taking me to dinner tonight.”

“I— okay,” Cass agreed. God, she hoped she didn’t sound as dumbstruck as she felt; Nesta didn’t suffer fools, and Cass wasn’t trying to be one. “Whatever you want.”

Nesta finally leaned forward to press a kiss to Cass’ cheek, pulling back with a smirk. “I think we’ll get along just fine. See you later.”

Cass watched Nesta grab her things and saunter out of the room, the only thought in her head I love when women…

Well. At least one woman, that was for damn sure.

#you’re taking me to dinner tonight #yes that’s right #gett em #love it!!!#nessian

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wolfnesta · 2 days

Text

When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Chapter 3

A/N: when I heard that today's @nestaarcheronweek prompt was wolf, I just knew I had to do some more werewolf Cassian 😉 Sorry this update has been a long time coming, but I promise this chapter is a good one! Hope everyone enjoys!

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Nesta

Nesta supposes she shouldn’t be surprised when she wakes alone.

She certainly didn’t expect to wake within some sort of lover’s embrace. It was clear last night that her and Cassian’s marriage was nothing more than duty, he to his pack and she to her family. But still…

With a soft sigh, she shifts and rolls over beneath the blankets, reaching a hand out and finding nothing but cold sheets. Early riser or didn’t even bother to stay the night? With another huff she sits up, rubbing the final remnants of sleep from her eyes. The room and the cabin doesn’t look much different in the light of day. The rays of sunlight spill in through the windows, painting patterns across the blankets and turning the wood beams of the ceiling into amber.

It could almost be described as homey if it weren’t for the frigid, cloying air still clinging to the room from the previous night.

Pushing the blankets off her legs, Nesta climbs off the bed. She starts to pad over to her trunks before a thought strikes her, her eyes dancing toward the bedroom door. Cassian made it clear last night that he doesn’t trust her, so does that mean he would lock her in? Keep his new wife locked away in the tower?

She steels her spine and stalks toward the door, hesitating for just a moment with her hand outstretched in front of her. Slowly, her fingers curl around the knob, but thankfully, there’s no resistance as she twists. Unlocked. Small consolations.

Shaking her head, Nesta spins on her heel and returns to preparing for the day. With running hot water and no one around, she dares to take another long bath. Loathe she is to admit it, there’s a lingering ache between her thighs, a delicious soreness to her muscles as she stretches out beneath the water. She tips her head back against the lip of the tub and closes her eyes, breathing deeply.

As much as she’d like to, Nesta knows she can’t hide in the warmth and safety of a bath all day. This is her life now, Archeron or not. This is her life here. She’s married to the alpha, a member of this pack even if they don’t fully trust or accept her. A witch amongst wolves.

Heaving herself out of the bath, Nesta finishes readying for the day and steps out of the bedroom. The rest of the cabin is just as quiet, but she pads her way into the kitchen. It takes some rooting around in the cupboards, but she’s able to find everything she needs to prepare a cup of tea, the strong taste and warmth of the drink at least helping to soothe some of the knots twisting around in her stomach.

It’s only when she settles at the small, wooden kitchen table that she notices the letter, her name scrawled across the page in familiar, crisp cursive. She snatches it up, flipping it over quickly. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised to find the wax seal already broken, but annoyance flares like low burning embers in her chest nonetheless. She opens the letter and skims through her mother’s words. It’s all polite and basic, reporting on her sisters, inquiring if she’s settled, but she notices the ink pressed into the right, bottom corner.

A crow.

Nesta pushes to her feet and finds a candle, placing it on the kitchen table and lighting it. She holds the letter over the flickering flame until the ink swirls, bleeding to the edge of the paper and melting away into nothing. She closes her eyes and says the incantation quietly beneath her breath before blowing across the page, revealing the ink and message hidden beneath.

A meeting.

It’s a meeting request that Nesta is sure was also sent to both of her sisters. No new husbands though, a meeting of just the Archeron ladies. Cassian is already suspicious of her, so she’ll have to figure out an excuse that will allow her to attend. A problem for her to work out later. For now, Nesta holds the letter over the candle again, this time until the corner of the parchment catches, the entire letter going up in flames.

She returns to her tea, the cup almost drained when the front door of the cabin swings open, Cassian striding inside. He’s dressed in surprisingly casual attire, a loose shirt tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled up to expose the lines of tattoo and golden skin of his forearms. His hair is pulled back and piled into a bun at the back of his head.

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” Cassian says in way of greeting. He gestures with his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Nesta crosses her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow and refusing to move. “I did sleep well. Thanks so much for asking.”

“You want to do fucking pleasantries?” Cassian scoffs, shaking his head.

“Oh, but dear husband, how did you sleep?” Nesta asks, offering a saccharine smile. The sight of Cassian’s lips pulling back in a snarl has it building into a full blown smirk.

“Do you want to see the village or not?”

“I’m surprised you’d allow a witch such free range around your pack.”

“If you’d prefer, we can stay here and continue our marital duties,” Cassian offers, his tone derisive, the golds of his hazel eyes practically sparking with the challenge.

Nesta’s smile drops away. “Fuck you.”

“Are you sore this morning, sweetheart? I’d be willing to bet that was the first time a prim princess like you has taken a real cock.”

“You wish,” Nesta growls, finally pushing to her feet just so she can glower at Cassian.

She wants to hate the way he doesn’t balk from her ire, the way his smirk almost seems to twitch and grow at her response. The way the golds of his hazel eyes practically spark at the challenge. The sight has Nesta’s scowl deepening, her mind grasping for a way to wipe that stupid expression off his face. Perhaps, she’ll threaten to curse him with impotence.

“Going to curse me, sweetheart?” Cassian drawls, raising an eyebrow and all but daring her.

Nesta refuses to let the surprise at him reading her so easily show. “You’re not even worth the waste of magic.”

Cassian snorts quietly, gesturing with his head again. “Are you coming or not?”

With a quiet huff, Nesta takes a moment to straighten out the skirts of her dress, striding right past Cassian and out the door. The village certainly looks different beneath the sun, and from this vantage point atop the hill, Nesta can see the various members of the pack milling about. There’s a group of women, baskets full of vegetables on their arms, a group of young men unloading crates from a wagon, and children running around. There’s even a few members of the pack moving about in their wolf forms.

Cassian leads the way down into the heart of the village, pointing out different places for her as they walk. The hall where the pack council meetings are held. The market square. The butcher and the bakery.

It’s almost strange the way everyone is so friendly and open with Cassian, smiling and greeting him as he passes, the way he gives the same energy back. It’s clear that he’s a beloved alpha, clear that he cares just as much for his people. It makes it all the more awkward the way everyone eyes her suspiciously, whispers of witchcraft swirling in her periphery.

They come to a stop in some sort of clearing between the trees. Circles are carved into the ground, creating three rings, and Nesta spies who she remembers are Cassian’s second and third sparring in one of them. Wooden dummies are set up along the other end of the clearing, wooden and steel weapons beside them. A group of young boys and girls alike run through a series of maneuvers, a woman with pure white braids along her back leading them through the steps.

Cassian whistles, and his second and third both snap their attention toward them, practically pausing mid swing. The woman gives the man one final shove, as though for good measure, before they’re jogging over. On instinct, Nesta’s spine is straightening, chin pinching higher in preparation.

“Nesta,” Cassian begins. “This is my second, Emerie, and my third, Balthazar.”

“My friends call me Baz,” Balthazar tells her easily, placing a hand on his heart.

“You can call him Balthazar,” Cassian says gruffly. Nesta scoffs and rolls her eyes, but neither Emerie or Balthazar seem to disagree with the order. “And over there is Cresseida. You’ll begin training with her each morning starting tomorrow.”

Nesta doesn’t bother holding back her glare, anger already simmering beneath her skin. “Excuse me?”

“My wife needs to be able to defend herself.”

“What makes you think I don’t know how to defend myself? What do you think I was taught growing up?”

Cassian steps closer into Nesta’s space, the sneer on his face sending her annoyance skyrocketing. “I don’t think you want me to answer that, princess.”

Nesta raises her chin higher to hold his gaze. “Fine. You want me to prove it? I’m more than happy to step in the ring right now.”

“I’m sure we can find a beginner opponent that will be willing for your little demonstration.”

“And miss the opportunity to knock you on your sorry ass?”

Cassian laughs, the sound nothing short of mocking, but he gestures toward the training rings with his arm. “Fine then. After you, Nes.”

Nesta scowls at the nickname, but she stalks forward into one of the three rings. Cassian follows behind her, stepping over the line at the opposite end. They’ve already drawn the attention of the group training, and Nesta is sure that word will quickly blaze through the rest of the village. The witch challenging the alpha.

She’s sure there will be more sneers, more whispers and snide remarks. She’s sure that if her mother could see her now, she’d call Nesta foolish, chide her for letting her emotions get the better of her. But Nesta swore to herself a long time ago that she would never be weak again, and she refuses to let Cassian or his pack see her as such. Alpha or not, marriage sham or not, she intends to meet that fire she’s seen sparking in his eyes head on. Intends to burn just as bright until she wipes that cocksure smile clean off his face.

“I’ve got Cassian in this,” Balthazar murmurs.

“Oh, I’m definitely taking Nesta,” Emerie answers.

Nesta closes her eyes, letting the village, the pack, Cassian, all fade away. She centers herself the way she always has, sinking beneath the rippling waves of her well of power. Even the birdsong around her dampens to nothing, warmth trickling through her veins and pooling in her fingertips. She opens her eyes, allowing the power to swell to the surface, knowing it’s now flickering within her gaze.

Cassian’s own eyes widen, his movements pausing, but he’s quick to shake his head and set his stance, mouth pinched in a firm line. The beast within Nesta gives a low growl of approval. She can feel it pressing down onto its haunches, desperate to be released, and she dares to turn the key in the lock, keeping the cage firmly closed. For now. She widens her feet and raises her fists in a defensive positioning, raising a single eyebrow in challenge to the male across from her.

He moves faster than she expects, Cassian all but charging toward her. His arm swings out, but Nesta is quick to duck beneath the arching punch. It seems to be the exact response Cassian was expecting, what he was hoping for. The palm of his other hand slams into her collarbone, the force enough to throw off her balance and send her toppling onto her ass with a soft grunt.

Cassian lets out a derisive snort above her, but Nesta glares up at him, jumping back up to her feet. She loosens that leash on her magic, feels the familiar heat of flames twisting and wreathing around her wrist. She drives her hand against Cassian’s chest, releasing all that magic through her fingers. The alpha goes careening back, landing hard in the dirt sprawled on his back.

Cassian sits up, spitting to the side and wiping his now split lip with his hand. “Using magic is cheating.”

“Because war is all about rules and fighting fair,” Nesta drawls sarcastically.

“Touche,” Cassian comments idly, pushing back to his feet. “We can play it like that, sweetheart.”

It’s like watching the whole thing in slow motion. The way that Cassian’s muscles seem to ripple and bulge. The way fur sprouts and cascades down his skin. The way magic practically shimmers around him as he shifts. One blink and a large world stands before Nesta’s eyes. His fur is a dark brown, lighter along the chest and down the belly and a black that seems to match Cassian’s hair around the face and ears. But there’s no mistaking the golden glow of his eyes, pinning Nesta firmly in place.

Cassian snarls, the sound low and viscous. It’s Nesta’s only warning before he leaps and closes the distance between them. Nesta doesn’t have time to react, to move out of the way or call forth her power again. Pain radiates down her spine as her back hits the dirt, large paws pinning her shoulders down. Cassian’s canines are dangerously close to her face, hot breath panting across her cheeks, but Nesta doesn’t look away from those golden eyes.

He doesn’t scare her.

A calm washes over Nesta, but that beast within her tugs at the leash, practically chomping at the bit. Just as she’s always done, she imagines slipping fingers through fur, even as she finally opens that cage door. With a deep breath in, power fills her chest, expands between each rib and twines around her lungs. She pictures curling her fingers and grasping the beast’s fur.

Giving permission.

Flames burst out of Nesta in a cascade of silver, crashing around her. With a surprised yelp, Cassian goes flying through the air as those flames curl around his limbs. The force of her power sends him all the way outside of the training ring, skittering and sliding through the grass beyond before his wolf form finally comes to a stop.

“Holy shit.”

~ * * * ~

Cassian

With a grunt, Cassian tosses the large stone out across the water, watching the ripples as it bounces once, twice, before vanishing beneath the surface. His arm is sore with the effort, but it’s a welcome feeling. One that he can control. His entire body still aches, and he doesn’t even dare to look to check for the bruises he’s sure are mottling his skin.

He’d known the Archerons were powerful, everyone knew that, but to witness it in action had been something else entirely. That power had rippled around him, pressing and scraping along his skin until every hair had stood on end. For a moment, his heart had stuttered to a painful stop in his chest. With the silver flames burning and engulfing her eyes, Cassian hadn’t even been sure it was truly Nesta staring back at him. And then all that magic crashed into him with an almost sickening crunch. It threw him hard and far enough that had he been in his human form, Cassian is confident his shoulder would have shattered with the force of his landing.

Huffing quietly, Cassian reaches down, sifting through the rocks at his feet until he finds another flat one. He tosses it gently in his hand, testing the weight of it, allowing the familiarity of it to center him. This deep in the woods, none of the sounds of the pack or the village reach him. It’s just the small, gentle waves lapping along the shore, a birdsong further in the forest, and the wind whispering through the branches and leaves.

“Have you finished sulking yet?”

Cassian throws the rock in his hand hard enough it merely plops beneath the water. “Fuck off.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that Nesta doesn’t have mating marks this morning,” Emerie comments. Her tone is idle, but Cassian doesn’t buy it for a second.

“She’s my wife, not my mate.”

“Is that so?”

Cassian knows what that sarcastic drawl means. He whirls around on his second, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. “Don’t.”

“Just like your father then.”

“I said don’t.”

Emerie rolls her eyes at his clipped voice, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Do you plan on taking other females to your marriage bed as well, then? Plan to have a whole brood of little bastards just like yourself.”

With a snarl, Cassian closes the distance between himself and Emerie until he’s looming over the female. “Don’t make me relieve you of your post.”

She doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t step back. That same unimpressed look is painted across her face, exasperation spilling through her brown eyes as she continues to meet his gaze.

“You and I both know you made me your second because of this,” Emerie reminds him, shoving hard at his chest until he steps back. “Because I call you out on your bullshit. Did you forget there’s a war coming? Hybern may be quiet for now, but we both know too quiet is worse. Especially now that he has the Cauldron. Our pack is strong, but we’re not that strong. What happens when your wife, when her family, abandons you? Abandons us? Because you had a stick up your ass?”

“And what would you have me do?”

“Stop being a dick to your wife,” Emerie tells him, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “If you respect her, the rest of the pack will respect her.”

Cassian sighs, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’ll try, alright?”

“I guess that’s the most I can ask for from an idiot male such as yourself.”

Emerie leaves Cassian alone with his thoughts after that, trekking back through the trees and toward the village. He stares out across the water of the lake, letting out another sigh. He hates that Emerie is right. The whole reason he agreed to this alliance, why he went through with this marriage, is for the pack. Loathe as he is to admit it, they will need Nesta and the Archerons if they want to stand any sort of chance against Hybern, no matter his own thoughts or feelings or opinions.

Besides, it’s not like they have to love one another, they just have to be amicable with each other.

Cassian groans, tilting his head back and scrubbing his hands down his face. Rolling his shoulders, he heads back toward the village. He stops in at the blacksmith, chatting easily with Elis while he works the flames and testing the weight and balance of the newest swords. He hits the bakery next, selecting some fresh goods to take back to the cabin. But as he steps back out, he catches the eye of Cresseida at the shop across the way. She’s wearing the same unimpressed expression that her wife did, and Cassian can practically hear Emerie’s voice in his head, chastising him for stalling.

He flashes Cresseida the finger, earning a fond shake of the head in return, but he gets the message. He trudges the rest of the way back to his cabin, taking the stairs slower than he normally would, but there’s no delaying the inevitable.

He pushes the door open and finds Nesta sitting on the sofa in front of the fire. She has a book open and propped on her knees, one he has no idea where she got it from. She doesn’t even bother to look up or acknowledge him, pointedly turning a page, so with a soft sigh, Cassian turns his attention to the kitchen. He starts pulling out ingredients, lining the counter with everything he’ll need, and grabs a pan.

“Have you eaten?” Cassian calls out, sparking a flame.

The sound of a book snapping shut lets Cassian know he heard her. “Are you intending to cook for me?”

“I promise not to poison it and everything, sweetheart.”

“How generous.”

It’s with a familiar ease that Cassian begins chopping up everything he needs, adding everything to the pan to saute. He mixes up the spices and prepares the sauce just as his mother used to when he was growing up, the smells swirling and filling the kitchen tugging at his memory as much as they tug at his heart.

He feels more than he hears Nesta step into the kitchen. Even with his back to her, his every nerve ending prickles with awareness of exactly where in the room she is, always zeroing in on her presence. The tickle of her breath skates across the skin of his neck as she stands just behind him, pressing up onto her toes to peer over his shoulder.

“Don’t trust my promise?”

Nesta huffs quietly, taking a step back from him. “I want to see my sisters.”

Cassian hums, so she knows he heard her, but he continues to prepare their food. He gives it all a good stir, scooping some onto the wooden spoon and holding it out toward Nesta in offering. She hesitates for a moment, gaze dancing between the spoon and his face, but then she slowly leans forward, accepting the taste.

“I want to see my sisters,” Nesta repeats, crossing her arms. “I want to make sure they’re alright.”

“Is it the vampires or the Vanserras that you don’t trust?” Cassian asks, plating up their food. “Or is it both?”

“It’s not about trust. You agreed to this marriage because you knew it was the only way to keep your pack safe from Hybern. I did it for my sisters, to ensure that Elain and Feyre would be safe. So I want to see them. My mother wrote a letter, and she will arrange it all. I just need a carriage.”

“Fine.”

Nesta blinks a few times, reaching out to accept the plate Cassian extends toward her. “Fine?”

“But either Emerie or Baz will accompany you. You can choose which.”

“Did you hit your head when I knocked you on your ass or something?”

“You wish,” Cassian tells her, settling at the table with his own plate. “You said so yourself, we need each other if we want to stand any chance against what’s coming. But I can assure you, sweetheart, I won’t let you get another chance like that again.”

Nesta hums noncommittally, but she settles in the seat across from him nonetheless. Cassian doesn’t miss the fact that she waits until he’s fully taken a bite of his own food before digging into her own. He doesn’t take it too personally.

They eat in relative silence, just the quiet clink and scrape of utensils. When they’re finished, Nesta snatches up her book again and retires to the bedroom. Cassian continues to putter around the cabin, sorting through the papers on the desk in his study, studying the information and intel about Hybern his wolves have been able to discover, scrutinizing the map and the markings on it.

But as clouds continue to move across the sky, masking the silver glow of the moon, as shadows continue to stretch across the floors of the cabin, exhaustion begins to tug at Cassian’s limbs. He knows that, realistically, he should retreat to the extra bedroom in the cabin, the one he always keeps made up in case one of the younger wolves needs a place to crash. But that voice in the back of his mind continues to whisper, continues to prickle and scrape for his attention. His nerve endings still feel on high alert, all too aware of the witch between these four walls.

Emerie just told him to stop being a dick to his wife. She never said anything about needing to trust her.

Cassian doesn’t even bother knocking, strolling straight into the bedroom. Nesta is already settled beneath the blankets, pillow propped at her back and that same book still in her hands. She glares over the pages at Cassian, making an affronted sound when he closes the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” Nesta demands with an annoyed huff. “There’s no magic dictating us anymore. Don’t you have another bedroom you can stay in?”

“Did you forget that you’re in my bedroom?” Cassian fires back.

He can feel Nesta’s glare sinking into his shoulder blades like knives as he turns his back on her. Can practically hear the way she’s seething. But she doesn’t say anything back, and Cassian refuses to be bothered. He fists a hand in the back of his shirt, tugging it up and off and tossing it aside. He continues stripping down until he’s comfortable to sleep, pulling the tie from his hair until his curls tumble comfortably around his face and shoulders.

When he turns back toward the bed, Nesta’s eyes are glued to his chest. Already, Cassian can feel a smirk tug across his face, a teasing comment on the tip of his tongue, but then he takes in Nesta’s expression. The slightly hollowed look to her blue eyes, the pinched brow and downturned lips. He looks down at his own chest, and barely holds in a wince at the sight. Purple and red patches are mottled across his skin, stretching up over his ribs.

“Is that regret I see on your face, Nes?”

That all too familiar scowl is back in a second. “Not if you keep calling me that.”

“Do I need to sleep with one eye open?” Cassian asks, stepping over to the bed and slipping beneath the blankets.

“Just fuck off, and go to sleep.”

Nesta rolls over and places her book on the small, side table, extinguishing the lantern and casting the bedroom in darkness. Cassian snorts softly at the dismissal, but he settles back against the mattress. He closes his eyes and wills his body to relax, but Nesta shifts, clearly getting more comfortable, and he’s painfully aware of her presence beside him.

She hasn’t been here long, but already her scent has permeated the cabin, and with her so close again, vanilla and lilies flood Cassian’s nose. He can feel the warmth of her, and when she shifts again, her foot brushes against his leg. He dares to turn his head to the side, toward her. Nesta has her back to him, but the blankets still cling to her every curve, rising and falling with each slow, steady breath. Her hair is fanned out across the pillow behind her, the strands practically glistening under the moonlight spilling through the window.

Cassian can still remember the way those strands of golden brown hair felt twisted between his fingers. He can still remember her body pressed against his, the sweet sounds of her moans echoing in his ears. He can still remember the tight heat wrapped around his cock. He squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of memories, suddenly feeling like a livewire. It would be too easy to turn to her fully, to press his body against hers. To latch his lips to the skin of her neck. To slide his hand across her waist, down her stomach, lower still.

Nesta’s name weighs heavy on his tongue, but Cassian is quick to swallow it back down. He rolls over onto his side, away from Nesta, giving his pillow a hard punch. These are the last type of thoughts he needs. Sighing softly, Cassian forces his mind to empty, to quiet, forces himself to give in to sleep’s embrace.

—

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