Cassius POV
The air outside the bar was sharp and cool, biting against my skin as if it knew the storm raging inside me. I should’ve stayed longer. I should’ve left sooner. I should’ve done something-anything-other than what I did. But I couldn’t change it now.
April.
Her name echoed in my mind, a whisper and a roar all at once. That kiss-it wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to get under my skin, to make me forget, even for a second, who I was and the life I was bound to.
The gravel crunched beneath my boots as I made my way to the black SUV parked under the dim glow of a street lamp. Gabriel, my Beta, leaned casually against the driver’s side door, arms crossed and an expression that was far too knowing for my liking.
“You’re late,” he said, though his voice had no actual irritation. He had this way of masking his emotions, of playing things cool, but I knew him better than that.
I didn’t respond right away, sliding into the passenger seat without meeting his eyes. He didn’t press. He never did-at least not in public. Gabriel was brilliant like that.
He slid into the driver’s seat, the hum of the engine breaking the silence as he pulled onto the main road. “Rough night?”
“Don’t,” I warned, my voice low.
“Don’t what? Ask why the great Cassius, Alpha of the Crescent Moon pack, looks like he’s been sucker-punched?” His smirk was almost audible.
I shot him a look, sharp enough to cut, but he didn’t flinch. Gabriel never did.
“Just drive,” I muttered, leaning back against the seat and closing my eyes.
The truth was, I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. My mind was too tangled with thoughts of April-her sharp wit, her guarded smile, the way she kissed me back as if she were challenging me to pull away.
She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met.
And that was the problem.
—
By the time we reached the pack’s territory, the sprawling estate hidden deep in the woods, the tension in my chest hadn’t eased. The Crescent Moon pack’s mansion loomed ahead, a testament to power and tradition, but tonight, it felt like a weight I couldn’t shake.
The guards at the gate nodded as we passed, their sharp eyes tracking every movement. Gabriel pulled the SUV into the circular driveway, cutting the engine with a flick of his wrist.
“You’ve got a meeting in twenty with the council,” he reminded me, his tone more serious now. “And Thomas has been asking for you. Something about a rogue sighting near the eastern border.”
“Great,” I muttered, stepping out of the car and into the cool night air. The weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders like a familiar cloak.
By the time I entered the grand hall, the council meeting was already in full swing. The long table was filled with familiar faces, most older than me, with expressions varying between respect and suspicion.
“Alpha,” one of the council members greeted, inclining his head.
I nodded in return, taking my seat at the head of the table. Gabriel stood to my right, his presence a steady anchor.
The meeting dragged on, discussions about territory disputes and alliances blending into a haze of words I barely registered. My mind drifted back to April, to how she looked at me after I pulled away.
“I can’t let you get close.”
My own words echoed in my mind, a bitter reminder of the walls I’d built around myself. She didn’t know the truth about me, about what I was. And she couldn’t know.
But the thought of her looking at me with those sharp, defiant eyes, daring me to push her away again, was enough to make my resolve waver.
“Alpha Cassius,” one of the council members called, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I straightened, forcing my focus back to the room. “What is it?”
“I would like your input on the rogue situation near the eastern border,” the man said, his tone tinged with impatience.
Gabriel shot me a glance, a silent warning to stay present.
“Send a patrol to investigate,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos in my mind. “If the warriors find anything suspicious, I want a full report by morning.”
The meeting continued, but my thoughts remained divided, the pull of my duties clashing with the distraction that April had become.
—
Hours later, after the council had dispersed and the mansion had quieted, I found myself in my study, a tumbler of whiskey in my hand and the weight of the day pressing down on me.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. It was late-too late-but sleep was out of the question.
I thought of April again.
The way she looked at me, the way she kissed me back, the way she called my bluff with that icy tone of hers.
She wasn’t afraid of me.
That realization was as unsettling as it was intriguing. Most people, even my pack members, kept a certain distance. They respected me, yes, but there was always an underlying fear. The power, title, and the beast beneath the surface kept them at arm’s length.
But not her.
April met me head-on, her sharp tongue and piercing eyes cutting through every defense I had. She didn’t cower. She didn’t submit.
And that made her dangerous.
Because the more time I spent around her, the harder it was to keep my distance.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called, setting the glass down on the desk.
Gabriel stepped inside, his expression unreadable.
“Everything all right?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
He closed the door behind him, leaning against the frame with a casualness that didn’t match the tension in his eyes. “You tell me.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Gabriel crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “You’ve been distracted all night. And don’t tell me it’s just pack business.”
I didn’t respond right away, my jaw tightening as I stared into the fire.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” he pressed, his tone softer now. “The girl from the bar.”
“Drop it, Gabriel,” I warned, though my voice lacked its usual edge.
“You’re the Alpha, Cassius,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You don’t get to ignore things like this. If she’s a distraction, you need to deal with it. One way or another.”
I met his gaze, my expression hard. “It’s none of your concern.”
He held my stare for a moment longer before nodding and stepping back toward the door.
“Just don’t let it get in the way,” he said, his tone more resigned than anything else.
As the door closed behind him, I leaned back in my chair, the weight of his words settling over me.
“Don’t let it get in the way,” I muttered to myself, the firelight casting shadows across the room.
But what if it already had?
April had already become more than a distraction. She was a storm, and I wasn’t sure I could weather her.