Page 8 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

My fingers twitch. Cassian never says things carelessly. Every word is designed to embed itself, to hook, to pull.

Elara's shoulders go rigid, though her face remains neutral. Still, I see the flicker of doubt—just a breath of hesitation. Cassian's patience is endless. He can work with hesitation.

I step forward, boots crunching softly against the pavement. Cassian's smirk begins to form, but before he can turn fully, Elara moves.

The air thickens, pressing in, charged with something sharp and crackling. Her head snaps toward me, the movement swift, instinctive—like a predator scenting something familiar. Her muscles tighten, shoulders squared as if bracing for impact. Her breath hitches, just for a beat, before smoothing out, but it's too late. I've already seen the flicker in her eyes.

A heartbeat stretches between us, weighted, stretched thin by something unspoken.

Her lips part, then press into a firm line. Her jaw tightens, a flicker of tension there, a silent war playing out beneath the cool mask she wears. But her fingers curl at her sides, knuckles paling slightly—small, barely perceptible, but enough. Enough to tell me she feels it too.

I exhale slowly, steadying the shift in my stance before it gives me away. My pulse, slow a second ago, kicks up, thudding once—twice. Too damn loud. The scent of her, familiar and maddening, coils in my lungs, and my fingers twitch at my sides before I force them still.

From a distance, I'd convinced myself it had faded. I could watch her without feeling the pull, without remembering the way her breath had ghosted against my skin, her pulse wild beneath my touch.

But now—now that she's close enough for me to see the way her throat moves when she swallows, close enough that I can almost hear the sharp inhale she tries to suppress—it's impossible to ignore.

I catch the way her gaze flickers, lingering on my mouth for a second too long before she snatches it away.

Before I can say anything, Cassian tilts his head slightly before his smirk widens as soon as he sees me.

"Well, if it isn't Adrian Kane," he drawls, mockery coiling through his words.

I ignore him. "Elara," I say, keeping my voice steady. "We need to talk."

She turns toward me, her expression shifting. No hostility, but the careful walls are back in place. A flick of her gaze between me and Cassian. Weighing something.

Elara's fingers tighten around the folder, knuckles whitening. Her gaze flickers between me and Cassian, weighing something in that sharp, calculating way of hers. Then, with a sigh, she tilts her head toward him.

"I'll see you later, Cassian."

Dismissal.

Cassian's smirk lingers, but something in his expression shifts—just a flicker, barely noticeable. His jaw tenses for half a second, eyes narrowing before the lazy amusement slides back into place, smooth and practiced. He lets out a soft chuckle, but there's no real humor in it.

"Of course," he says lightly. "Wouldn't want to keep you fromthis." His gaze flicks to me, sharp with something unreadable, before he inclines his head. "Don't let him bite."

Elara doesn't respond, already stepping past him, and I don't miss the way his eyes track her movement, lingering just a second too long.

Interesting.

I watch him turn on his heel and disappear into the crowd, his posture relaxed, unbothered—but that split-second hesitation stays with me. Cassian doesn't seem like the kind of man who likes being dismissed. And Elara?

She didn't hesitate enough.

I glance at her, matching my pace to hers as we walk down the dim hallway. Her shoulders are stiff, her spine straight, but her fingers are still curled around the folder like she needs something solid to hold on to.

"How do you know him?"

She doesn't even look at me. "Why does it matter?"

"It matters," I say evenly, "because Cassian isn't someone you should be involved with."

That gets a reaction. She exhales sharply, finally turning her head toward me, brows drawing together. "Involved?" she repeats, like I just accused her of something obscene. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about." My voice lowers, steady but firm. "Cassian has ties to things you don't want to be a part of."

Elara scoffs, shaking her head as she picks up her pace. "Oh, please. Spare me the lecture, Adrian."

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