When Eleanor walked back to the quarters they had given her, she noticed the door was slightly open. She moved gingerly towards it and pushed it open to see Cassius inside. He twirled around immediately to see her.
"Ah, so the little lamb finally awakens."
Eleanor's heartbeat thundered in her chest.
Cassius stood leaning against the carved wooden post of her bed, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.
Unlike his brothers, who exuded cold authority or quiet menace, Cassius was something else entirely. Dangerous, but in an alluring way. The kind of man who could make you forget you were standing on the edge of a cliff—until you were already falling.
"What are you doing here?" she croaked, her throat dry. She didn't want to ask him what he wanted because she already knew it.
"Because I need you." Cassius tilted his head. "You don't need to question me."
Yes. She knew she wasn't supposed to question any one of them. Besides, Silas had just explained why they needed her.
But she was still frightened.
By all of the five brothers.
"Eleanor, I am interested in you," he said smoothly, pushing off the bedpost and walking toward her with slow, deliberate steps. "And I always take what interests me."
She swallowed, trying to keep her expression neutral. "I'm not a thing to be taken."
She wanted to add that she was only there for the blood they needed. But she knew she didn't have to. Not when she had no idea if she would ever leave her.
His grin widened, his sharp canines glinting under the candlelight. "Aren’t you? Your family certainly thought so when they handed you over."
Her stomach twisted. She hated the reminder. Hated that he was right.
Cassius sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that she could feel the unnatural cold radiating from his body. "I could make things easier for you," he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "You don’t have to suffer here, you know. Not if you choose wisely."
Eleanor clenched her jaw. "And what exactly are you offering?"
He traced a slow path down her arm, his fingers featherlight. "Protection. Privilege. Freedom, even." His gaze lifted to hers, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "All you have to do is surrender to me."
She sucked in a sharp breath. "Surrender?"
He smiled. "Yes. Give yourself to me, body and blood. Be mine, and I will make sure no harm comes to you. You will want for nothing."
Eleanor stiffened. She had already lost her autonomy—her family had seen to that. But to willingly place herself under Cassius’s control? To let him drink from her like she was nothing but a vessel for his hunger?
Her silence seemed to amuse him. "I can be gentle, Eleanor," he whispered, his hand trailing to her neck, where her pulse hammered beneath his fingers. "Or I can be cruel. It all depends on you."
Her breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips mere inches from hers.
For a fleeting second, she hesitated.
Then she did the only thing she could think of—she slapped him.
Cassius’s head snapped to the side, his blond hair falling into his face. The sound echoed in the quiet room.
Eleanor’s chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as she met his stunned expression. "I am not a plaything," she hissed, her voice trembling but firm.
For a moment, he was utterly still. Then, a slow, dark chuckle escaped him. "Oh, little bird," he murmured, his tongue running over his lower lip. "You really shouldn’t have done that."
Before she could react, he moved.
In an instant, she was pinned beneath him, his hands locking her wrists above her head. His weight, though not crushing, was enough to make her breath hitch. The playful Cassius was gone. In his place was something far more predatory.
"You wounded me, Eleanor," he said softly, but his eyes were gleaming with something dangerous. "But I do love a challenge."
Panic seized her, but she refused to let it show. "Get off me."
He ignored her. "You see, I don’t like being rejected. And I certainly don’t like being struck."
His fingers trailed down her arm again, slower this time. "But I can be merciful. I’ll give you another chance. Let me show you how good I can make you feel, and you won’t even dream of leaving me."
She spat at him.
Cassius went rigid.
The silence stretched unbearably, tension coiling thick between them.
Then he smiled—a slow, chilling smile.
"Very well," he whispered. "Let’s make this more… interesting."
With unnatural speed, he was suddenly off her. Eleanor barely had time to scramble backward before he reached the door and flung it open.
"Silas," he called casually. "I believe our little maid here could use a lesson in obedience."
A shadow loomed in the hallway.
Eleanor’s stomach dropped as Silas stepped into the room. The youngest brother, the most brutal of them all.
While Lucien was the cruel ruler and Cassius the deceptive seducer, Silas was the enforcer. The warrior. His reputation was built on bloodshed.
Silas’s dark gaze swept over her, unreadable. "What has she done?"
Cassius smirked. "She refused my generosity. And she hit me." He touched his cheek, feigning injury. "I think she should be taught some respect."
Eleanor’s fingers clenched into fists. Coward. He didn’t want to punish her himself, so he was handing her over to someone worse.
Silas said nothing. He simply stepped forward, his boots echoing against the stone floor.
Eleanor refused to flinch. If she was going to be beaten, she would not cower.
Cassius looked delighted as Silas loomed over her. "You might want to hold still, little bird," he mused. "Silas isn’t known for being gentle."
A long moment stretched between them.
Then, without warning, Silas grabbed Cassius by the throat and slammed him against the wall.
Cassius choked, his smirk disappearing as his boots lifted off the floor. "What the hell—"
Silas’s grip was unyielding. "You do not summon me like a dog," he said coldly. "And you do not throw your messes at me to clean up."
Cassius clawed at his arm. "Silas—"
Silas tightened his grip. "If she refused you, then that is your failure. If you try to use me again, I will break more than just your pride."
Cassius’s face darkened with rage, but he knew better than to fight Silas. Finally, with a growl, Silas released him, letting him fall gracelessly to the floor.
Eleanor barely dared to breathe.
Silas turned to her, his expression as unreadable as ever. For a moment, she thought he might still harm her.
Then, in a voice as cold as the night, he said, "You are not his toy. If he tries again, you tell me."
Cassius scoffed from the floor. "How noble."
Silas didn’t spare him a glance. He stepped toward the door but paused. His dark eyes met Eleanor’s for just a second—just long enough for her to see something flicker there.
Then, without another word, he was gone.
Cassius watched him leave, then turned to Eleanor with a deadly smile. "You’ve made an enemy tonight, little bird," he murmured. "I hope you’re ready to play."
Eleanor’s skin went cold.