Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 187

187 /195

**TITLE: Brute 187**
**Chapter 187**

**ATASHA’S POV**

“No,” I breathed, my voice barely a whisper, yet it felt like a scream trapped within the confines of my chest. “How could he be corrupted? How?” The question spiraled in my mind, gnawing at the edges of my sanity.

I didn’t wait for Kaelith to offer an explanation; I was too consumed by the urgency of the moment. I pressed my palms firmly against Cassian’s chest, pouring every ounce of warmth and healing energy I possessed into him. It felt like a desperate act, a last-ditch effort to save him from the darkness that threatened to engulf him.

As I focused, my vision began to blur, the edges of the courtyard warping and tilting like a painting smeared by rain. My head felt unnaturally light, as if something vital had been scooped out and discarded into the cold, unforgiving snow. My fingers shook uncontrollably, making it nearly impossible to maintain contact with his skin.

“Stay with me,” I murmured, my voice a fragile thread in the chaos. “Cassian, please. Just stay.” Each word felt like a prayer, a desperate plea to the universe to keep him tethered to this world.

The dizziness intensified, a vicious grip tightening around my throat. My sight dimmed further, and my knees buckled beneath me, the cold weight of despair creeping up my arms. It was a heavy sensation, slow at first, but then it surged, twisting my stomach into knots.

I was on the brink of losing consciousness.

I could feel it, the encroaching darkness at the periphery of my vision, inching closer with every heartbeat Cassian lost.

Then, in an instant, everything shifted.

My ability surged deeper into him, a sudden rush that caught me off guard. I gasped, feeling as if I had plummeted through an unseen chasm. This time, it didn’t merely skim the surface of the corruption; it sliced through it, penetrating to a place within him that had eluded me before.

My body reacted on instinct, a primal urge to withdraw, but I found myself trapped. Something within him latched onto me—not physically, but through that delicate thread of healing I had woven into his very being.

Kaelith moved forward sharply, his expression morphing into one of shock, as if he had just been slapped.

“Impossible!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking under the weight of disbelief. “How is this even possible?”

I wanted to ask what he meant, but the darkness surged faster, pulling me into its depths.

My muscles betrayed me, giving way before I could resist. The last sensation I registered was my hand slipping from Cassian’s chest as the ground rushed up to meet me.

But there was no impact. No cold snow to cushion my fall, no distant sounds of chaos or the biting chill of the air against my skin.

Everything I had clung to—Cassian’s voice, the courtyard, the blood staining the snow—vanished in an instant. I was falling, and it felt like an endless descent, as if gravity had forgotten to release its hold on me.