Chapter 359: the stubborn heir

NOAH

Okay, I thought, my popcorn freezing halfway to my mouth. That was a real punch.

That was a very, very heavy punch. Is he... in oh my god, his shoulders okay when he moves like that.

Focus, Noah. Look at the wound site, don’t look at his waistline. Focus.

The sound of the hits changed.

They were landing with a dull, wet thud now, the sound of skin striking solid muscle.

Cassian caught a hard right hand against his ribs... the good side, thankfully but the force of it was enough to make his back foot skid across the mat, his heels digging into the rubber as he absorbed the impact.

I sat forward, the plastic cup tilting dangerously in my hand as the straw slipped from my lips.

My jaw stopped moving entirely, a piece of chicken wing forgotten against my tongue.

Cassian didn’t drop. He recovered almost instantly, his head snapping up as he slid his right foot back into his stance. Something in his expression changed then.

It wasn’t pain... it was a cold, quiet finality that usually appeared right before someone ended up on the floor.

The look of a man who had decided the warm-up was over.

What happened next went too fast for my eyes to fully piece together.

Cassian’s body seemed to blur, a fluid, vicious sequence of movement that didn’t look like the structured boxing I’d seen on TV.

It was dirtier, faster, a style born in places without rules.

He ducked beneath a massive swing, his bare shoulder brushing the guard’s chest, and then his elbow came up in a short, blinding arc that clipped the big man’s jaw.

The room let out a collective, sharp Intake of breath.

Cassian didn’t give him space to breathe.

He stayed inside the guard’s reach, his fists moving in a relentless, heavy rhythm... two quick shots to the ribs, a hard hook that sent the giant stumbling backward until his heels hit the edge of the mat.

The big man tried to raise his arms into a block, but Cassian caught him by the back of the neck, using his own momentum to twist him around and trip his back leg.

The head of security hit the rubbe" with a loud, ringing smack that shook the floorboards beneath my couch.

Both of them stayed still for a second, breathing in deep, ragged gulps.

Cassian stood over him, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly, sweat running in long, gleaming tracks down on his skin.

A small, dark satisfaction touched the corner of his mouth, but it lasted only a heartbeat before his face tightened into a sharp wince.

His left hand moved automatically toward his lower ribs, his fingers pressing hard against the white line of the healing wound.

The weakness was gone within a second, replaced by that smooth, unbothered mask he always wore when he wanted everyone to think he was indestructible.

I was already off the couch before he could drop his hand. I snatched the gray towel off the armrest and grabbed the cold water bottle from the side table, my boots clicking loudly against the hardwood as I marched onto the black mats.

Cassian looked up as I approached, his chest still heaving as he took the towel from my hand.

His eyes were dark, glinting with that low, heavy amusement that usually meant he was about to make my life difficult.

"Enjoying the show, Noah?"

"Someone has to supervise," I said, my voice deliberately flat as I held out the water bottle. "Since you clearly don’t know how to read a medical discharge sheet. Or listen to basic common sense."

He threw the towel over the back of his neck, using both ends to wipe the sweat from his chin and throat. "I feel fine."

"I saw you squeeze your face in pain."

"I didn’t."

"You did," I said, pushing the bottle into his chest until his fingers closed around the plastic.

"Drink the water before your heart rate spikes any higher and I have to call the hospital to explain why you’re back on a cardiac monitor."

Cassian put the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back as he drank. His eyes never left my face over the rim of the plastic, the corner of his mouth twitching with that tiny, infuriating dent that usually appeared when he found me entertaining.

He set the bottle down, a few stray drops of water clinging to his lower lip. "You’re very invested in keeping me alive today."

"I’m invested in my salary," I lied, looking past his shoulder at the big guard who was currently groaning as he rolled onto his side.

"And my sanity. Mostly my sanity."

Later, the bright lights of the gym were replaced by the quiet, shaded gray of the master bedroom.

The heavy velvet curtains were drawn against the afternoon sun, leaving the room cool and smelling faintly of the sweet oil I’d found in the bathroom cabinet.

Cassian was lying face down on the massive bed, his skin smelling of the clean, sharp soap from his shower.

He had a white towel hitched low around his waist, leaving the entire expanse of his back completely bare to the dim light.

I was sitting on the edge of the mattress beside him, my knees tucked under me as my hands worked their way into the heavy muscle where his neck met his shoulder.

The feely of this was different from the hours we’d spent with our skin burning against each other in the dark; this was slower, quieter.

My thumbs dug into the thick knots along his shoulder blades, learning the shape of him without any of the frantic urgency of the bedroom.

Cassian let out a low, heavy groan into the pillow, his broad shoulders dropping an inch as his weight sank into the mattress. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"I didn’t," I said, my fingers sliding down the ridge of his spine, feeling the hard, individual bumps of the bone under his skin. "I’m completely making it up as I go."

"You’re very good at making things up," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the down casing.