Cassian doesn't speak when I find him.
He's sitting on the hood of his truck near the overlook, jacket unzipped, sleeves rolled, staring out at the water like he's trying to wrestle answers out of it. The sky is darkening fast. Late afternoon sliding toward evening. Blackmere's favorite time to speculate.
I walk up slowly. Deliberately. I don't want him thinking I'm unsure.
He senses me before he looks. He always does.
"You done?" he asks quietly.
"Yes."
He nods once, still not meeting my eyes. That hurts more than I expect.
I step closer, stopping between his knees. Close enough that I can feel the heat of him, the tension humming just beneath his skin. Cassian is controlled by nature, but right now that control feels stretched thin. Like a wire pulled too tight.
"You followed me," I say.
"I stayed nearby," he corrects. "There's a difference."
I tilt my head. "You don't trust him."
Cassian finally looks at me. His gaze is steady, but there's something raw underneath it now. Something unguarded.
"I don't trust what he does to you," he says. "Or what he pulls out of you."
That lands. Hard.
I place my hands on his thighs, grounding myself as much as him. "And what do I pull out of you?"
His jaw tightens. "You already know."
I do.
That's the problem.
"I didn't ask you to wait," I say softly. "I didn't ask you to stay in this."
"No," he agrees. "You didn't. I chose it."
The word settles between us. Chosen. Not claimed. Not assumed.
"I'm not asking you to compete," I say. "I won't be a prize. I won't be a war."
Cassian's hands come up then, slow, careful. He rests them at my waist like he's asking permission without words. I don't stop him.
"I'm not competing," he says. "I'm standing. That's it. I'm not louder than him. I'm not more dramatic. But I'm here. And I don't leave when things get complicated."
Something in my chest tightens.
I lean forward before I overthink it, resting my forehead against his. The contact is quiet. Intimate. Charged in a way that makes my breath hitch.
"Everyone's watching," I murmur.
"I know."
"Blackmere doesn't forgive women who don't pick fast enough."
His thumb brushes my hip, just once. Barely there. "Blackmere doesn't get a vote."
I laugh softly, the sound shaky. "They think I'm reckless."
"They're afraid," he says. "You stopped fitting into the story they wrote for you."
I pull back just enough to look at him. "And what story did you write?"
Cassian's eyes search mine. Honest. Unflinching.
"One where you choose yourself," he says. "Even if that doesn't include me."
That shouldn't make me want him more.
It does.
I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the solid warmth beneath my palms. His breath changes instantly. Slower. Deeper. Controlled, but strained.
"This is dangerous," I say quietly.
"Yes."
"I'm not promising anything."
"I know."
"But I don't want distance tonight."
That's all it takes.
Cassian stands, closing the space fully now. His hands settle at my lower back, firm but not demanding. He doesn't kiss me. Not yet. He waits. Always waits.
So I tip my chin up.
The kiss is slow. Intentional. Nothing rushed or desperate about it. His mouth moves against mine like he's memorizing, not taking. I feel it everywhere. In my spine. In my chest. In the way my fingers curl into his jacket without permission.
A car passes on the road behind us.
Headlights sweep over us.
Reality intrudes.
Cassian breaks the kiss first, resting his forehead against mine again. "This gets harder from here."
"I know."
"He won't back off."
"I know."
"And the town will push."
"I know."
His grip tightens just slightly. "Say the word, Rowan. If you want me to step away, I will."
I don't answer right away.
Because that's the truth, isn't it?
He would.
I pull back, just enough to breathe. "Not yet."
Cassian nods. Acceptance without resentment. It almost undoes me.
From the corner of my eye, I catch movement.
Across the overlook, near the treeline—
A familiar silhouette.
Jude.
Watching.
Not interrupting.
Just witnessing.
The triangle tightens.
And I know, with absolute clarity, that whatever happens next will not stay private.
Blackmere is already choosing sides.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow will force mine.