CHAPTER 496: A LOOPHOLE

Cassius blinked, the pain momentarily blurring his vision. But when his gaze focused again, he saw Arabella’s expression, soft yet trembling, eyes filled with fear, worry, and something even worse which gnawed his consciousness. Something that clawed at his heart far more effectively than any weapon Morpheus could conjure.

Facing that kind of sadness... that kind of devotion... he couldn’t lie to her. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t need what she was offering.

So he nodded, reluctantly, but enough for her to understand.

Arabella let out a shaky exhale, relief warming her features for the briefest moment. Her lips curved into a faint, trembling smile as her hands, still unsteady from adrenaline, fear, and raw concern, lifted toward him. She guided her wrist to his lips, her fingers hovering beside his cheek, the closeness trembling with something intimate and vulnerable.

Cassius slowly parted his lips, and before biting, he pressed the gentlest kiss to her skin. A soft, reverent peck on her skin.

Even though her memories weren’t whole, something instinctive flickered inside her. A recognition older than recollection. Perhaps he had let something slip earlier. Perhaps she had noticed his fangs, his habits, his hunger. Or perhaps, more frightening, more precious, some part of her soul still remembered him. Some part of her knew he was a vampire, knew what he needed to survive, knew when his life was in danger.

Perhaps her soul remembered him even if her mind did not.

Cassius’s lips lingered against her wrist before his fangs grazed her skin. The sharp brush of enamel made her flinch, her brows pinching, though she fought to keep steady. She had braced herself for pain, but the first graze felt electrifying, slicing through her nerves like a blade of cold steel. Her breath hitched. Her eyelids fluttered.

His fangs sank into her flesh with a slow, deliberate pressure, piercing through skin until the warm rush of blood welled up beneath his mouth. It trickled down toward her fingers— but before a single drop could fall, Cassius sealed his lips around the wound, drinking deeply.

A sound escaped him, barely audible, a low hum of satisfaction he couldn’t suppress. His eyes remained locked with hers, darkened but clearer than before, and for a moment the world seemed to pause. Her blood touched his tongue, and his entire body shuddered subtly, as if remembering how to breathe through the sensation.

Arabella watched as he drank, her pulse fluttering against his lips.

And when he pulled back for a moment to lick the blood from her knuckles, the sight rooted her in place. He smiled a wide, involuntary smile, just like a starving man finally given the taste of something forbidden and exquisite.

A strange, tight feeling twisted in her chest at the sight of his pleasure.

He looked so unguarded. So undone. So relieved.And she—She shouldn’t enjoy seeing someone drink her blood. She shouldn’t feel warmth at being treated like food.

No one should.

Yet her heart fluttered.Her breath grew shallow. And something inside her thrummed with satisfaction.She felt wanted. As if her blood, her body, her existence could soothe him in ways nothing else could.

She watched as Cassius chased every stray drop, his tongue gliding over the corners of his mouth, along the curve of her palm, across the trail of red that ran toward her wrist. He gulped deeply, throat bobbing uncontrollably, unable to hide how delicious he found her. His restraint was slipping and she could see it from the way his eyes darkened, and how in the way his breath hitched with hunger, in the way he held her wrist like something too precious to lose.

And the entire time, Arabella couldn’t breathe properly.

She wasn’t lightheaded from blood loss, not even close.

She was dizzy because of him.

Because of the way he drank from her as though she were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.Because of the way her body reacted—shivering, burning, welcoming every touch and every pull of his lips.Because she didn’t hate it.

She didn’t hate being his food.

If anything...The fact that she could satisfy him, could ease him, could be something he desired—even in this way, made something warm and reckless unfurl inside her chest.

Only when her fingers twitched under his lips did Cassius finally force himself to pull away. Even then, he lingered, licking the last traces of blood from his mouth, unwilling to let even a drop go to waste.

Arabella stared, breath trembling, her head spinning with so many emotions she thought she might collapse under all of them.

And with Cassius still licking the taste of her from his lips, she realized:Nothing about this felt wrong to her.Nothing.And that truth alone was dizzying enough to make her entire world tilt.

In the rush of her pulsing heartbeat and the overwhelming storm of emotions tearing through her, Arabella couldn’t look away from Cassius. She sat frozen, breath trembling, half stunned by the rawness of what she felt, half blown apart by the unfamiliar emotions crashing inside her chest.

Her throat tightened, and when she finally found her voice, it came out as a fragile whisper."How is... your wound?"

She forced herself to focus—to drag her gaze down from the sight of his lips still tinted with her blood. She swallowed hard, pushing away the heat blooming in her chest and turning her attention to the wound she had been terrified of losing him to.

When she saw it, saw the torn flesh knitting itself together, saw the bleeding slowing to a faint glisten, she finally released a long, shaky breath of relief.

Her lungs finally expanded as if she had been suffocating until now.

"You healed me," Cassius murmured with a small smile, still licking a faint trace of blood from one fang. His voice was soft, almost teasing, but edged with sincerity. "But what about you? Does it hurt?"

Arabella gently shook her head, though her hands were trembling. She didn’t trust her voice. Instead, she leaned forward and rested her head against his shoulder, letting the relief make her so weak her knees nearly buckled beneath her.

"I can’t do it anymore," she breathed, the words barely audible, muffled into his chest. She shut her eyes tightly, pressing her forehead harder against him as if she could hide inside the warmth of his body. The moment she closed her eyes, the image of him bleeding, flashed behind her eyelids, still haunting her.

The thought made her voice crack.

"Cassius... I can’t stay here with him. With that monster."

Her breath hitched, her fingers clutching the fabric of his clothes."Can’t we leave? As soon as possible? I could have killed him— I almost did. But I remembered what you told me, that killing him will only make him stronger. I know we need to wait. I know killing him now will bring something worse. That we have to follow the plan, that there’s a right time."

She shook her head violently, the tremble in her body worsening."But how can I wait anymore? He... he’s a monster, Cassius. He would stop at nothing. And just the thought—just the thought—of him hurting you again, I—"

Her voice broke.

And so did the room.

The entire chamber fell silent, deadly silent right before the pressure of her rage snapped. The air thickened, humming with unstable magic. The bed beneath them rattled. The wooden planks on the floor vibrated. The very walls shuddered as if they feared her wrath, the tremors swelling into something close to an earthquake.

Cassius felt it.He felt her emotions thrumming beneath his hand like wild lightning.He felt her fear, her desperation, her love—raw and terrifying and unrestrained.

He couldn’t hold back anymore.

He lifted his hand and placed it on the back of her head, fingers gentle against her soft hair. He guided her face upward, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I promise you," he whispered, voice low and steady, anchoring her storm with every word. "No more than three days. I don’t want this to continue either, Bella. Believe me."

He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing the bitter truth in his heart. Killing Morpheus would be easy, he could do it right now. He wanted to. He wanted to tear him apart with his bare hands for daring to harm her, for daring to exist near her.

But he couldn’t.

Not because of mercy.Not because of fear.But because killing Morpheus the wrong way would doom them both.

If they killed him the way he was meant to be killed— at the precise time, in the precise manner —they could break the curse binding her unstable power, the curse that threatened to detonate her from the inside. They could stop the demonic pull dragging his soul closer to hell with each use of his own power. They could save themselves. Save each other.

But if they did it wrong, everything would collapse. Their futures, their souls, everything.

"We need patience," he whispered, his thumb brushing the tears forming at the corner of her eye. "And I will be here. Every moment. I won’t let you face any of this alone."

He meant it. Every word.

But even as he tried to calm her, a sharp irritation flickered inside him, because one thought wouldn’t leave his mind:

What is taking Circe so damn long?

If the witch didn’t appear soon...If she didn’t bring the answers or the final piece of their plan...Cassius was one breath away from dragging her out of whatever corner of the realms she was hiding in, slamming her against a wall, and demanding she fix this before Arabella’s heart shattered under the stress.

Before Arabella suffered more. Before his soulmate broke.