CASSIA
I continued to stare at him with wide eyes, taking in every inch of his face.
The last time I had seen him, he carried a boyish charm. He had always been handsome, with expressive eyes that were my favorite part of him because I could read every emotion before he even spoke.
But now?
He was a hundred times more handsome. He looked like he had stepped out the cover of vogue.
High cheekbones, a sharper, more angular jawline with a faint shadow dusting his chin. The same full, sinful lips that once nearly drove a teenage me insane.
His hair, midnight black, had once been cut close to his scalp. Now it was longer, pulled back into a high ponytail.
His eyes…ugh! I could get lost in them forever. They stayed on mine, piercing, digging into my soul, wanting me to answer to every bit of command in them.
But I wasn't here to admire him. What the hell was he doing here?
My father had told me he died. He was shot during a mission. I had seen a body. There had been a funeral. I had gone to his grave with roses so many times I lost count.
Yet he stood right in front of me.
This had to be a sick joke. I shook my head slowly.
Carefully, I took a step toward him, needing to be certain I was not imagining this. Maybe grief had broken my mind. Maybe my father's death had pushed me into hallucination.
Kairos did not move. His cold gaze never left mine.
Two guards stepped forward, blocking my path.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" one growled, disgust thick in his voice.
"Do you know whose presence you stand before? Have you no manners?" the other snapped.
My lower lip trembled, and I bit hard on it. My eyes moved from the guards back to Kairos. He said nothing.
Then the guards again. They looked at me as though I had committed a crime that could never be forgiven.
"On your knees!" the first guard barked, stalking toward me. He gripped my shoulders, forcing me downward, when Kairos's voice echoed through the room.
"Leave her," he ordered calmly. "She is my guest."
Guest?
The word almost made me laugh. Guest was far kinder than what I truly was here. A fucking slave!
I knew Kairos. I had loved this idiot for years, even when all he ever gave me was rejection. Still… the man standing before me did not feel like him
The guards stepped back immediately. I stumbled forward, drawn to him despite everything. My fingers brushed the button of his black trench coat, feeling the smooth fabric beneath my trembling hand. I reached higher, toward his face—
A shrill voice cut through the air.
"How dare you touch my fiancé with those filthy hands?"
The word hit me like a blow to the chest.
"F… fiancé?" I stammered.
My head snapped toward the voice.
A tall blonde woman stood there, breathtaking and perfectly put together. Her red halter dress hugged every curve, stopping just above her knees. She moved toward us with deliberate grace, heels clicking against the polished marble, eyes narrowed with open disdain.
"Get away from him," she snapped.
She grabbed my wrist and yanked my hand away from Kairos, her nose wrinkling as if I were something foul. From her purse, she pulled out a sanitizing wipe, cleaned her fingers with slow exaggeration, then flicked the used wipe at me.
It struck my cheek before sliding to the floor. The sharp chemical scent burned my nose.
I stood frozen, humiliation crawling up my spine, while she stepped closer to Kairos as though claiming territory.
And he said nothing.
"Oh baby," she cooed, her voice syrupy as she leaned into Kairos.
His hand slid to her waist instantly, fingers gripping possessively. Then he kissed her.
Slow at first, then deepening into something hungry. And through it all, his eyes never left mine.
Cold. Detached. Unreadable.
I stopped breathing. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, and my chest tightened so painfully I thought I might collapse.
I didn't know which hurt more—watching my father take his final breath yesterday, just as I had watched my mother die ten years ago… or watching Kairos.
The boy I had admired. The boy I had believed, if life had been kinder, would one day be mine.
He didn't stop. Not even when the pain on my face must have been obvious.
They continued, shamelessly, in front of me and the guards. A full, heated display meant to be seen. The guards stood expressionless. This was nothing new to them.
Unlike me.
The foolish girl who had mourned a man already alive.
"Of course he's alive," I thought bitterly. "Of course."
"Oh, Kairos," the blonde gasped as his hand disappeared beneath the fabric of her dress. "We can't… people are watching!"
"Let them," he growled against her ear.
Was he doing this on purpose?
Was this revenge?
Had he been one of my father's enemies all along?
The look he had given me earlier—there had been something there. Not indifference. Not affection. Hatred.
I swallowed hard, forcing down the lump rising in my throat. I straightened my spine, lifted my chin, squared my shoulders.
I would not cry. I would not break in front of him. Even if it felt like my heart was being crushed in his hand. I wasn't sixteen years old anymore.
"Oh, Kairos," she purred again, clinging to him.
And still, he watched me.
I bit down hard on my lip, forcing the sharp retort in my head to stay there.
Thankfully, they broke apart. They must have remembered the need for air because when their lips separated, she was gasping dramatically like a fish pulled from water.
After catching her breath, she straightened, smoothing her dress. "I didn't know this was a place to drag in dirt from the blood ring," she sneered. "Wasn't she supposed to be thrown to the dogs?"
Kairos grunted softly. He didn't acknowledge her insult. Instead, his gaze shifted to the guards, sharp and commanding.
"Take her to the room prepared for her," he ordered. "Make sure she is comfortable."
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.
I scoffed as they stepped toward me.
"Prepared room?" his fiancée snapped. "She's going to live here? With you?"
Kairos didn't answer. He turned away as if she hadn't spoken at all. She shot me one last venomous glare before hurrying after him.
"Don't touch me," I snarled when one of the guards reached for my arm. I spun toward Kairos's retreating back. "Tell your fuckimg dogs to keep their hands to themselves."
"You cuss now," he said without turning around, and I heard the faint amusement in his voice.
Heat flooded my face. He probably still saw me as the naïve sixteen-year-old from five years ago.
"Do as she says," he told the guards casually. "She has legs."
Then he walked away, his fiancée clinging to his arm. I bit down on my bottom lip again, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling.
My heart hurt.
For my father.
For my stolen freedom.
For the betrayal that seemed to wrap around me from every direction.
And now… for Kairos.
I swallowed hard when one of the guards spoke.
"Come on."
I nodded stiffly and followed with a heavy heart.