He didn’t look at them. Didn’t want to see the questions in their eyes. Didn’t want to answer the ones in his own.
He found a crumbled stairwell that led nowhere and sat on the edge of it, letting the cold seep into his bones. He needed the numbness. Because if he let the heat back in, it’d burn too bright.
The shadow crow came just after sunrise. Its wings were slick with dew and magic, its talons curled around a scroll sealed in black wax. Cassian didn’t touch it. Not until it dropped the message into his lap and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
He recognized the seal.
Drakar.
The Emperor’s voice was in the ink, smooth and cruel.
“Seraphine is to proceed alone. The Court requires clarity of loyalty. Your presence compromises her standing. You will not accompany her further. This is not a request.”
No signature.
Just command.
Cassian’s vision went red.
He stormed back to the camp like a fuse already lit.
Seraphine was up, braiding her hair, her back to him.
“Tell me you didn’t know,” Cassian said, his voice low and tight, shaking with betrayal.
Seraphine turned slowly. “What are you?—?”
He hurled the scroll at her feet. The black wax cracked open as it hit the dirt, bleeding ink and threat.
She stared down at it.
Then up at him.
“I just got it,” she said. Quiet. Too quiet.
“Of course you did,” he snapped, stepping toward her like the truth was a blade between them. “Let me guess. They think I’m a threat. That I’m too close. That I’ll ruin your fucking image.”
“That’s not fair?—”
“Isn’t it?” His laugh was sharp and cruel, edged with hurt. “They want to cut me out. Leave me behind like a spent weapon. Like I haven’t carried this fucking mission on my back.”
“You’re not a tool, Cassian.”
“Thensay it.” His voice cracked, the anger melting just enough to show the wound beneath. “Say I matter more than what they think.”
Her lips parted. No sound came out.
She hesitated.
In that space—tiny, breathless—he saw the war behind her eyes. Felt it in the way her hand twitched toward him but didn’t move.
Cassian stepped back, like he’d been shoved. His chest rose and fell, each breath shallower than the last.
“Yeah,” he said, softer now. “That’s what I thought.”
“Cass—”
“No.”
