Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 184

**Chapter 184**

**Matron Yara’s POV**

From the very first moment, Yara had sensed an unsettling shift in the air, as if a storm was brewing just beneath the surface. There was something distinctly wrong with Atasha! “A monster!” The thought spiraled wildly in her mind, a frantic whisper that sent shivers down her spine.

Yara steeled herself, forcing her posture to be upright, yet her knees trembled uncontrollably the instant Atasha advanced another step. The girl’s gaze was unwavering, and the intensity of her stare made Yara’s skin crawl as if icy fingers were tracing her spine.

She had witnessed Cassian in the heat of battle, had seen the primal ferocity he unleashed upon his enemies without a moment’s hesitation, but this was an entirely different breed of terror. This was not the fury of a warrior; it was something far more primal—an insatiable hunger masked by a veneer of humanity.

“More soldiers!” Yara’s voice rang out, strained and cracking, echoing off the walls of the blood-soaked study. “Get in here! Kill her! Now!”

The thunderous pounding of boots reverberated through the corridor, and within moments, five soldiers burst into the room, their eyes widening at the gruesome scene that unfolded before them. The lifeless bodies sprawled on the floor, the walls splattered with crimson, and the grotesque angles of their fallen comrades’ limbs momentarily halted them in their tracks. Some exchanged uneasy glances, one muttering a curse under his breath, clearly rattled by the carnage.

Yet, fear, more than loyalty, propelled them into action.

But Atasha was quicker.

As the first soldier lunged forward, she sidestepped his strike with a fluid grace, seizing his forearm before his blade could descend. The sound of his elbow snapping echoed in the room, a sharp, sickening noise that made Yara’s stomach twist. The man’s scream pierced the air as she shoved him into the path of the second soldier. The collision created a momentary distraction, and in that fleeting instant, Atasha seized her first victim by the jaw. Her thumb dug ruthlessly beneath his chin, and with a violent twist, she wrenched his head back until the skin tore, blood spraying forth in a vivid arc that splattered against the wall behind her.

The second soldier gasped, his eyes wide with horror at the sight, but Atasha was already upon him. With a brutal shove, she forced him down by his collar and drove her knee into the side of his head. The sickening crack of his skull against the floor resonated through the room, and his body jerked once before falling limp, lifeless.

“Y-You! Help! Where is everyone? More soldiers!” Yara’s voice rose in desperation as three more men charged toward Atasha, attempting to overwhelm her. One wrapped his arm around her throat in a chokehold, yanking her upward from the ground. Another gripped her waist, pinning her arms, while a third aimed a dagger at her ribs, his intentions clear.

For a fleeting moment, Yara dared to hope they had her contained.

But Atasha was a force of nature.

With a sudden, sharp motion, she bent forward and kicked her legs upward, driving them into the cabinet behind her. The impact sent her crashing backward, crushing the man holding her in the chokehold against the wall. His scream was swallowed by the sickening sound of ribs splintering under the pressure.

Before the other soldiers could react, Atasha rolled forward, dragging the choking man down with her. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, and she twisted his head with a brutal force until it snapped, his lifeless body falling away as she rose, already surveying her next target.

She lunged at the soldier wielding the dagger, seizing his wrist and wrenching him forward. The blade he intended for her ribs grazed her forearm, but it left no mark. The horror in his eyes was palpable, and that moment of shock cost him dearly. Atasha leaned in, her hand a lethal weapon, and tore open his throat with her bare fingers. He crumpled to the floor, hands clawing futilely at the gaping wound as blood pooled beneath him.

The last soldier, now visibly shaken, stumbled backward, raising his shield in a desperate attempt to protect himself. But Atasha brushed it aside effortlessly, as though it were a mere feather. She seized the front of his armor and hurled him over Cassian’s desk.

He crashed into the shelves with such force that books tumbled down, striking him on the head. Before he could regain his bearings, she crossed the room in a heartbeat, smashing his skull against the stone floor until it cracked under the relentless impact.

Silence enveloped the study once more, save for the rhythmic dripping of blood from the table and the sound of Atasha’s labored breaths.

Yara’s throat tightened painfully as she surveyed the scene before her: eight lifeless soldiers sprawled around the room like discarded dolls, their bodies a testament to Atasha’s unyielding fury. Not one of them had managed to slow her down, not even for a heartbeat. The girl stood amidst the carnage, her hair matted to her blood-slicked face, chest rising and falling with a mix of exhaustion and a predatory intensity, as if she were still hungry for more.

“This is… this is a monster,” Yara thought, her heart racing. She turned to the hooded figure beside her, her voice sharp with panic.

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