Page 143 of Remnants: Disruption
I cup both hands behind her neck and pull her into a tender kiss. She moans softly, and I feel just the slightest bit of tension leave her.
“I imagine what they saw, or thought they saw, was either your—” I frown, wondering if calling her the wolf-bat would beoffensive, but figure it might lighten the tension, “—wolf-bat, or something else entirely.”
She snorts softly but doesn’t meet my eyes as I continue.
“From what RISE has, your powers are rumored to be related to Affliction itself. My actual experience in losing to you in a fight leads me to believe it might have more to do with siphoning, which is not something I’ve seen outside of manifested weaponry.”
I blow out a slow breath as I watch Cass flinch with almost every word I speak.
“The way you took out Fyre and Revenant leads me to wonder if siphoning isn’t the right term, but certainly a part of it. You seem to have more than one power, though, since there’s something about your lips that gave me dreamless sleeps. And you're exceptionally older than most Remnants should live—you and Darkrend both.”
That gets her attention. She sort of watches me warily, white teeth biting down on a full lower lip.
“And otherwise, I know the world fears you. As much as they fear Darkrend who, I believe, you went toe-to-toe with. He lost that battle. I saw the way he stepped back when he saw you.”
“Do you fear me?” she asks so softly I almost miss it.
“Is that what this is about?” I ask, brushing a thumb along her jaw. “You think, after everything, that I’m going to be afraid of you?”
Cass looks like she’s either about to cry or break down. She leans forward as though she might be sick, instead letting out a deep, shuddering breath before meeting my eyes again.
“I would not blame you if you were. I have never told anyone the full extent of my abilities. The reason Azazel was so confused this morning was because Remnants usually only have one or two abilities alongside enhanced reflexes.”
I frown and nod for her to continue.
“You have the control over shadows, the dead, the ability to teleport, enhanced hearing, strength, and a healing factor. By all accounts you should not exist.”
“Are you afraid of me?” I ask, a small smile blooming on my lips.
It dies, though, as Cass doesn’t answer right away. She studies my face, almost like she’s wondering if she’ll be able to see me like this again—vulnerable and by her side.
“I probably should be,” she says, voice raw. “In any other situation, I would have distanced myself when I started to feel attraction for you.”
“Why didn’t you?” I ask, scooting closer.
Cass takes her hands back and runs long fingers through her hair, mussing the straight flow.
She looks conflicted for so long, I almost wonder if I shouldn’t give her space. Let her figure out what’s doing this to her.
Finally, though, she blows out a slow breath.
“Because the idea of finding someone like me and not taking the chance was too much to bear,” she whispers, orange eyes pocked with tears.
“Oh,” I whisper, “sweetheart.”
She sniffles, and I almost forget she’s seven centuries old. She wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and shakes herself a little.
“I do not fear you,” she says after a moment, sounding less like she might break down in tears. “Not anymore.”
Cass goes quiet for a moment, as if gathering her strength. Then she scoots to the edge of the bed and slips off, turning to face me.
Slowly, she untucks her shirt and my eyes widen as she slips it over her head.
“Oh my God,” I groan, watching the way her abs flex and shift.
Cass’ eyes flick to meet mine, fear clearly evident in the orange hue. But I’m focused on her core. And on her body.
And then I see what she wanted to show me.
