Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 173

Brute 173 Summary

Atasha and Cassian stand before an ancient stone hidden in the mausoleum of a previous king. Cassian explains that the Stone of the Goddess is corrupted and has been kept there to repel witches, who can sense such corruption. Atasha, who is not a witch, feels a strong, unsettling reaction to the stone due to her unique ability, which Cassian reveals is not just healing but also a power to suppress and cleanse corruption.

Cassian shows Atasha a glowing, corrupted shard from the stone and instructs her to purify it. As she holds the shard, Atasha experiences intense pain and pressure, sensing the stone’s dark emotions—rage, grief, and despair—that threaten to overwhelm her. Despite the torment, she realizes she must stop resisting and allow the stone’s sorrow to flow through her to begin the purification process.

Immersed in the stone’s memories of violence and loss, Atasha struggles against feelings of drowning in grief. Cassian encourages her to trust in her power, and she begins to push back not with brute force but by shaping and organizing the chaos within the stone. She creates boundaries around the pain, gradually softening the screams and calming the stone’s turmoil.

Throughout the process, Atasha’s healing ability allows her to hold the grief long enough to acknowledge it before expelling it, transforming the corrupted energy into something manageable. As she continues, she senses something stirring within herself, a new presence moving toward her heart, signaling a deeper connection or transformation yet to come.

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Chapter 173

ATASHA’S POV – One day before the testing

Cassian’s voice echoed through the shadowed chamber, steady and deliberate. “For countless generations, the Stone of the Goddess has been hidden where the previous king lies at rest,” he explained as he moved toward the distant wall. His palm pressed firmly against a shallow engraving carved into the ancient rock. “Do you understand why that is?”

A tightening gripped my chest as my gaze locked onto the cold stone. Though I had never heard of the Stone of the Goddess before, I sensed something deeply corrupted embedded somewhere within that wall. “Why?” I whispered, fighting the overwhelming wave of suffocating unease that threatened to consume me.

“Because it’s a corrupted stone,” Cassian answered calmly. “Only those of the royal bloodline are taught this secret from childhood. The stone was moved to the mausoleum to keep witches at bay. They can sense corruption—it repels them.”

“I’m not a witch,” I said quietly.

Cassian glanced over his shoulder, his voice unwavering. “I know. Your reaction isn’t because you’re a witch, but because of your unique ability.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stand tall despite the growing weight in the air. The atmosphere thickened, the walls seeming to hum with a faint but persistent life, as if something ancient and breathing lurked beneath the stone. The sensation crept over my skin, pressing against my ribs until every breath felt ragged and strained.

Before I could even think to move, my body responded instinctively. The same reflex that healed wounds and sealed cuts before they bled now worked against the very darkness trying to engulf me. I could feel my power coil tightly inside me, forming an invisible shield beneath my skin, pushing back against the corruption.

The darkness pressed closer.

For a fleeting moment, my vision dimmed, and I felt that pulse again—the same one from the stone Cassian had made me touch earlier. It throbbed with something ancient and furious, desperate to drag me into its depths and drown me in the sorrow that tainted every corrupted stone. But my ability wasn’t just about healing—it was about suppression, defense. Each time the darkness reached for me, the warmth in my chest flared, sealing the fractures before they could spread.

It was as if my body refused to let me fully experience the pain, the grief, or the rage. They flared briefly, sharp and burning, then vanished as quickly as they had come. My power would not allow them to linger.

I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the faint heat beneath my palm. Frowning, I demanded, “Explain.”

Cassian pulled back his fist and struck a narrow seam in the stone. The surface cracked under his blow. He struck again, and a wedge of rock broke free, tumbling with a dull clatter. Behind it lay a rough cavity glowing with a sickly, pulsing red light. He reached in and withdrew a fist-sized shard. Its veins glowed like spoiled blood, creeping beneath the surface.

Holding the shard between us, he said, “Your ability heals. Everyone hears that and stops there. But healing isn’t just about closing wounds or mending bones. It’s about forcing things back to what they’re meant to be. If something is broken or corrupted, your power pushes against it until it breaks or yields. That’s why corrupted stones ‘lose’ their hold around you. You’re not absorbing the corruption—you’re forcing it to die.”

My mouth suddenly felt dry. “Elder Agape was certain I was fae.”

“He might be wrong,” Cassian replied. “Witches react to fae stones too—they feel the pull—but they can’t use them or shape them.” His eyes held mine. “And you are not a witch.”

“So, what are you saying? If I’m neither fae nor witch, why do I react to the stones? Why can’t I use them?” I asked, confusion tightening my voice.

He studied me for a long moment. “You’re someone who can purge corruption,” he said finally. “Someone who can cleanse a bad stone. Someone who can purify the corrupted.”

“Purify?” The word felt foreign on my tongue, unfamiliar and distant. I couldn’t recall the last time I had used it.

Cassian stepped closer and placed the shard gently into my hands. The moment it touched my palms, heat prickled sharply, followed by that familiar, knife-edged pressure behind my ribs.

“Purify this stone,” he ordered.

“I—I don’t—” I stammered, hesitant.

“That’s an order,” he added firmly.

I blinked, staring down at the stone in my hands.

It pulsed like a living creature, far from the gentle hum of the sleeping fae stones Elder Agape had given me. This pulse was uneven, erratic—like a heartbeat gone wrong. Red veins twisted and coiled beneath its surface, moving like smoke trapped inside glass. Every flare sent sharp, stabbing pain rippling up my arms and cutting through my chest, only to fade moments later. My body healed the wounds before I could even fully register them, sealing every burn and sting instantly.

But the pain didn’t relent.

I gave the chaos edges. I defined the walls. I showed it what a heartbeat should sound like, what air should feel like in healthy lungs, what skin should be when whole and unbroken. Every image I created, I held firm.

Each time the stone hurled grief at me, my body tried to erase it, and this time I let it stay just long enough to name it, then I pressed it out.

The screams softened first. They didn’t disappear but retreated behind a door I kept firmly shut. The smell of blood thinned. The heat eased from my face. The ground beneath my feet stopped shifting. I pulled each fragment away from me and placed it beyond the boundary I’d drawn—war to the left, death to the right, the metallic tang of iron into the floor, the red glow climbing the walls. I didn’t fight it—I organized it.

The stone bucked in my hands. Heat surged up my arms, then snapped off as my power smothered it. A sharp crack of pain split behind my eyes, but it faded as quickly as it had arrived. And I pressed on.

“Breathe,” Cassian reminded me softly.

That’s when I felt it—something stirring beneath my skin, crawling slowly toward my heart.

Conclusion

The chapter closes on a profound moment of transformation and revelation for Atasha. Confronted with the corrupted stone and the overwhelming emotions it carries, she confronts not only the external darkness but also the depths of her own unique power. Her struggle is both physical and emotional, as she learns to embrace the pain and grief within the corruption rather than resist it. This acceptance allows her to begin the delicate process of purification—not by brute force, but by shaping and guiding the chaos into order. It is a testament to her resilience and the extraordinary nature of her gift, which transcends simple healing to encompass cleansing and restoration.

Atasha’s journey in this chapter highlights the themes of inner strength, acceptance, and the complexity of power. Through Cassian’s guidance and her own determination, she steps into a role that carries immense responsibility and hope. The emotional weight she bears is palpable, yet it is balanced by a quiet courage that suggests she is ready to face whatever lies ahead. As the chapter ends with a stirring beneath her skin, it leaves a lingering sense of anticipation and the promise of deeper understanding, reminding us that true healing often requires confronting the darkness within.

What to Expect in Next Chapter?

The next chapter promises to delve deeper into Atasha’s mysterious power and the true extent of her ability to purify corrupted stones. As she continues to confront the overwhelming emotions and ancient darkness trapped within the shard, the line between her own identity and the stone’s sorrow blurs further. Readers can expect an intense exploration of her inner strength, as well as the emotional toll that comes with wielding such a heavy burden.

Tensions are likely to rise as Atasha grapples with the demands placed upon her by Cassian and the secrets of her unique gift. The unfolding revelations about her nature may challenge everything she thought she knew about herself and her place in this world. With the shadow of the corrupted stone pressing ever closer, the next chapter will test her resolve, hinting at deeper conflicts and alliances yet to be revealed.