Much like Rhysand, Cassian had never been particularly skilled at hiding his jealousy—at least not when he didn’t have to. And right now? Right now, the situation didn’t call for diplomacy. It called for restraint—and Cassian was rapidly running out of it.

He was seething.

The sight of Helion openly flirting with you across the table made something primal coil tight in his chest. His jaw clenched, hard enough to ache, and his shoulders tensed with every smooth, golden laugh Helion sent your way. Cassian shifted in his seat, fists curled against his thighs, barely resisting the urge to snarl.

Rhys had given him a sharp look—one of those subtle warnings that usually worked. Azriel, too, had tilted his head just enough to signal control yourself. But even that silent brotherhood of understanding couldn’t douse the fire crackling beneath his skin.

It wasn’t that he disliked Helion. No, Helion could be charming when he wasn’t infuriating. But this? Watching him look at you like that—like you were a game to be played, a prize to be won—was a step too far.

Because Helion didn’t know.

He didn’t know you were Cassian’s.

Not officially. Not yet. Cassian hadn’t told you about the bond—not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted it to be right. To be yours to choose, not something that would trap or overwhelm you. So he’d waited. He’d held back.

But now that bond throbbed like a bruise under his skin, reacting to every brush of Helion’s charm against you.

The golden glow of the sunset filtered through the open veranda windows, but all Cassian could see was you. You, smiling and laughing, lighting up the room in a way that made his chest tighten and his breath catch.

Helion’s hand brushed yours lightly as he leaned in with a confident grin, and Cassian’s fingers twitched at his sides.

“Do you always have this much fun with Helion?” Cassian’s voice was low, cutting through the din of the others’ chatter. You startled, meeting his fierce gaze.

“What—Cassian, it’s just conversation,” you said, attempting lightness, but your eyes flickered with concern.

“Conversation?” he echoed, voice rough like gravel. “Because it looked like more than that. Hell, it felt like more than that.”

Helion, unaware, chuckled again, sending a flash of irritation through Cassian’s gut.

Cassian couldn’t hold it in any longer. When the meal finally ended, he didn’t wait for politeness or permission. His hand found your elbow, firm but careful, guiding you out onto the sun-warmed veranda, away from the others, from the table, from him.

The door shut behind you with a soft click.

Cassian turned, eyes burning as they met yours. His chest rose and fell, heavy with the restraint it took not to explode.

“What the hell was that?” he growled, voice low, rough, threaded with a possessive edge he couldn’t quite smother.