War had a way of breaking things—shattering them so thoroughly that no amount of will or strength could piece them back together the same way.

Cassian had always known that, but what he hadn’t expected was how thoroughly it would unravel him.

It cost blood, sweat, tears - but love? Sanity? He hadn’t been ready for that kind of toll.

He had discovered the bond with you on a mission meant only for intel gathering and nothing more. One glance. One inhaled breath. The click of destiny locking into place had nearly knocked the air from his lungs. You were his mate. His.

But he had buried the bond beneath a glamour. There was no space for tenderness on the battlefield. No time for courtship when swords clashed and screams echoed through the hills. Cassian had promised himself he'd do it later. When the war is over. He would do it right. With soft words. With real smiles. With your hand in his.

But not like this. Not with death breathing down their necks.

Now you were here - fighting at his side. Alongside his family and his heart.

And every time he saw you rush forward into battle, Cassian felt like he was being pulled apart one breath at a time.

The battlefield blurred around him, screams and steel filling the air, until his eyes snapped to a blur of motion - Hybern soldier. Moving fast. Too fast. Blade angled for your abdomen.

Cassian didn’t think as his body moved.

His wings flared, breath forgotten, rage surging like wildfire through his veins. In a blink, he was there - arms wrapped tight around you, wings folding protectively, shielding you with everything he had.

Pain exploded through him as the soldier’s knife sliced clean through the membrane of his left wing, probably fracturing the bone. A sharp, white-hot burn that nearly buckled his knees.

But he held on, and with a guttural snarl, he winnowed you away - out of the carnage, out of the nightmare. Back to camp.

You two landed hard. His knees hit the earth first, and his vision swims, the ground tilting beneath him. Blood pours from the wound in his wing, thick and hot, his strength faltering.

But you are safe.

A blur of motion in the corner of his eyes - strong, familiar hands gripping his shoulders and dragging him upright.

Rhysand.

His brother’s eyes, usually calm as moonlight, are black with fury, with fear. With power.

“Keep your mate in the medic tent, and keep my brother alive.” Rhys growls at you, shoving him toward the healers.

Cassian doesn’t have the strength to argue. He can barely keep his feet as the healers rush to him, wing already glowing with magic. Pain stabbs through every inch of him as they work - stitching torn flesh, trying to stop the bleeding. The world fades in and out. Rhysand is gone.

But still, he searches for one thing.

Through the haze, his gaze finds you - whole and alive beside him.

His voice scrapes from his throat, cracked and breathless, but urgent. The only thing that mattered.

“Are you…” he raspes, forcing his eyes to stay open, “Are you okay?”

He can barely speak, barely breathe. But he has to hear it.

“Tell me you’re okay…” Maybe he could close his eyes for a moment if he hears it. Maybe he could let the darkness take him, knowing he’d saved the one person that matters most.