Can you sleep with me?
S–sleep with him? In the presence of the doctor and Randy?
I blushed. Lowering my gaze.
Why was he making it sound ambiguous when we had company?
"Leave us," Cassian said.
"Cassian, I still need to keep you under observation; we can’t—"
"I know my body better. Leave."
The doctor nodded and turned away, with Randy already taking the lead.
It was left with the both of us in the vast room.
"Come here," he said, making space for me.
This time, I didn’t resist.
"Um...okay," I murmured and climbed into the bed.
Cassian pulled me closer to him, his hand wrapping possessively around my waist.
My heart thumped at our proximity, and the atmosphere felt tense.
For a moment, we just lay there as the silence stretched... our bodies pressed against each other with only our clothes separating us.
"Did I scare you?"
"Are you okay now?"
Cassian and I spoke at the same time, as we both turned to face each other.
"Um, no, not really... I was worried and caught off guard, that’s all," I said. "Shouldn’t you be sleeping? My presence would—"
"I’m fine," he interrupted, his piercing eyes trained on me. He was watching with a burning gaze, making me uncomfortable.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Would he tell me if I ask?
"Can you tell me what happened? Are you sick? I heard the doctor saying you kept delaying your shots—"
Cassian turned his face away from me.
That gave me my answer.
He didn’t want to talk about it.
"If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. You can tell me when you’re ready."
He turned to face me.
"It’s a neurological disorder," he said.
"A neurological disorder?" I repeated.
"En." He replied with one word.
"Is it very painful?" I asked, the picture of his unfocused eyes, the grimace on his face and his heavy breathing replaying in my mind.
"I had a relapse. My condition isn’t something medicine can explain. I mimic emotions to survive socially."
I didn’t know if my brain was failing me, but I didn’t understand anything Cassian was talking about.
"You mimic emotions? Can you explain it in layman’s terms?" I asked.
"I experience emotions like reflections—anger, fear, and desire—but none originate from me. I don’t feel love, no emotional dependency... I’m completely numb when feelings are involved. Relationships feel like transactions... until you."
"Until me?" I repeated, letting his words sink in.
Cassian nodded. "I take shots to boost my oxytocin and dopamine response. But long-term use has its disadvantages, so I’ve been off meds for a while now."
"When you say "until me", what do you actually mean?"
He stared at me, his gaze moving to my lips then returning to my eyes.
"With everyone else, I borrow feelings. With you... I feel something from myself... Elevated heart rate, craving proximity... it hits like a storm, and it’s beyond my control."
"Oh," I rasped, my pulse stuttering.
Does that make me "his special medicine" of some sorts?
"Do you wish you could take it back?" he asked.
"Take what back?" I repeated, genuinely confused.
"We are getting married. You’ll be tied to me for the rest of your life. Do you regret it now that you know I have this strange disease?"
"No, I don’t regret it," I said even though my chest tightened due to his words. "I just don’t understand why it’s different when it comes to me. Does your doctor have any theories why it’s different when I touch you?"
"You heard him. He’s as surprised as all of us."
"Yeah, I think I remember... Wait, is that why you agreed to marry me?"
"I can’t hide anything from you, can I?" he said quietly. "I’m not going to deny it. It’s part of the reasons why I agreed to marry you."
"Reasons?" I was flabbergasted.
Seriously... reasons, with an ’s’.
"Are you angry?"
"Of course I’m angry. Here I was, thinking you agreed to marry me because I was so beautiful you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting me." I pouted, feigning anger.
"You’re beautiful," he said seriously. Making me nearly choke on my saliva. "It’s one of the reasons."
Oh God, how can someone still look so sexy when he’s flirting with such a straight face?
"Well, I’ll just appease myself with the fact that I get to be your special medicine," I added, giving him a subtle smile.
"Really?" he sounded surprised.
"Of course. Being the special medicine of the powerful Mr. Knight, how great is that? I get to enjoy special privileges."
"You are really not angry?"
"Of course, do I look like I’ll lie about something so serious? Right, tell me, is there something I could do to help your condition?"
"Really? You’re willing to help me?"
"You’re my fiancée; is there something wrong with wanting to help you...mmm?"
I hadn’t finished speaking before Cassian rolled over, pinning me beneath his powerful frame.
His mouth crashed onto mine with bruising hunger, claiming me like a man starved.
I froze, my blood rushing in my veins as I slowly eased myself into the kiss.
This wasn’t gentle—it was raw and desperate. As if the storm he’d described was breaking loose.
His lips devoured mine, hot and demanding, tongue sweeping in to taste every gasp I surrendered.
He tasted of salt and restrained darkness, his tongue stroking deep, filthy, pulling a broken moan from my throat.
One large hand fisted my hair, tilting my head back as he kissed me harder, deeper, like he could brand his awakening desire into my soul.
My nails dug into his shoulders through his open shirt, feeling the ink-covered muscle tense beneath my touch.
His body pressed me into the mattress, heavy and unyielding, the hard evidence of his need grinding against my thigh. Every roll of his hips sent liquid heat pooling low in my belly.
He tore his mouth away only to bite my lower lip, sucking it between his teeth with a low, guttural growl. "This is mine," he rasped against my swollen lips, voice wrecked.
"Cassian..." I breathed his name like a plea, my fingers sliding up to tangle in his hair.
He shuddered at the sound—a full-body tremor that told me more than any words could. When he lifted his head again, his eyes were blazing, pupils blown wide.
"You’re not medicine," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "You’re the storm itself."