Cass’s POV

Oliver doesn't seem surprised by the state of the reforming camp, which I find deeply unsettling. I give him a quick tour, leading him toward the river to show him the "pleasant" side of our territory—the lush, sun-drenched shores where children play and the air doesn't reek of fear.

"It’s vast," Oliver remarks, his British accent smooth and captivating. "Do you plan to expand?"

"We have plenty of unclaimed territory," I say, keeping my distance.

"Speaking of unclaimed... your father told me you’re unmated."

I stiffen. "That little..."

"He puts a lot of emphasis on it," Oliver continues, his eyes tracking mine. "It’s rare to find someone who can resist the

mate bond

as you have. Most would simply surrender."

"When your mate is a maniac who enjoys torture, resisting is easy," I retort, my thoughts drifting to the jagged contrast between Oliver’s civility and Colt’s raw intensity.

"You’re exceptionally willful," he murmurs, stepping closer. "A very attractive quality in a strong mate."

I deflect, trying to remain diplomatic as Warrick requested, but his presence makes my skin crawl. Eventually, I walk him back to the front door.

"I’m a direct man, Cassiopeia," Oliver says, catching my hand. "I think a union between our packs would be mutually beneficial. You’re a beautiful, strong woman, and I want you."

I laugh nervously, pulling my hand away. "A union is a smart choice. I’ll give it some thought."

I sprint inside, nearly colliding with my father. He gestures for me to follow him to his office, where Colt is waiting near the door. Our eyes lock, and the tension is palpable—Warrick notices immediately.

"You two do a pathetic job of hiding it," he sighs.

"What do you expect?" I whisper, leaning toward him. "I'm in love with the man."

Colt’s lips curve into a faint, triumphant smile.

Once in the office, Warrick grills me on the interaction. When I tell him I kept Oliver hanging, he nods, satisfied. "Keep playing him. He sees you as a potential Luna—a follower—but I know better. You’re meant to be a ruler, not a subordinate. Don't commit, but don't let him walk away."

Later that day, I find Colt with Dash, Miles, and Lotus in the living room. They’re laughing over old stories about Victor, but the moment I enter, the air changes. Colt’s gaze locks onto mine, his jaw tensing, his muscles rippling beneath his tight white t-shirt.

The urge to run to him—to bury my face in his chest and lose myself—is almost physical. I give him a slow, seductive look. He reacts instantly, his shoulders flexing, his breath hitching.

I turn and walk out. I know he’s following.

I duck into the first unlocked door I find—a music room. Colt is inside before the door even clicks shut. He crushes me against him, his lips finding mine with desperate, frantic hunger. He lifts me up, sitting me onto a piano keyboard—

CLANG

—a dissonant chord erupts, but neither of us cares.

"I saw him with you," he growls against my neck, his hand gripping my hair. "He touched you."

"Doesn't matter," I gasp, my fingers trailing down his abs. "I am

yours

."

Before we can go further, a voice calls out from the hall. "Wait!" It’s Serge.

The door swings open. A housemaid stands there, her face flushing bright red as she bows. Colt and I scramble apart, smoothing our clothes, our hearts pounding with a mixture of frustration and adrenaline.

Dinner is a battlefield. Oliver watches me with a possessive glint in his eye, and I can feel Colt’s rage simmering just a few seats away.

"You know the territory better than anyone," Oliver says, goading Colt.

"I do," Colt snaps, his voice low. "I’ll share what’s necessary when the time comes. For now, you don't need to know a damn thing."

The tension is a razor’s edge. Warrick glares at Colt, ready to intervene, and I realize the fragile peace I’ve brokered is about to shatter. I stand abruptly, my chair screeching against the floor.

"I apologize. I'm not feeling well."

I flee the room. I head to my quarters, but minutes later, there’s a knock. It’s Colt.

"You can't be here," I whisper, though my heart aches for him.

"I just needed to see you," he growls.

"Colt, if Warrick catches us, he’ll follow through on his threats!"

"Goddammit, fine!" He turns and storms off, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

I sigh, watching him go. His temper is reckless, his jealousy is dangerous, but in this godforsaken house, he’s the only thing that makes me feel like myself.