Kratos5627
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The Price of Trust
🕑 Added 2025-05-15 03:30:02 +0000 UTC---
Yeah, this chapter came out quite well. Very different from the standard pillow talk. Again Cassian is not standard is he.
Cassian woke to the distinct sense that he was being watched.
Not the casual sort—this wasn’t the sleepy glance of a lover after a night tangled in sheets and sweat. This was surgical. Predatory. Like he was being measured.
He cracked an eye open.
Faevelith was staring down at him. Still. Utterly still. No blink. No twitch. Just eyes—ancient, beautiful violet and bright with something that looked disturbingly close to fascination.
He gave her a half-grunt, half-sigh. “Ever heard of personal space?”
“I was watching your breath,” she said calmly, one hand pressed to his chest like she was timing his heartbeat. “Your chest stutters when you dream.”
Cassian rubbed his face. “Thanks. That’s not creepy at all.”
Her gaze didn't budge. “It comforts me.”
“That I might be having a stroke in my sleep?”
“That you’re still alive.”
He blinked. The bed was a mess, the room smelled faintly of fluids and sweat, and his spine hurt in five different places. There were red welts on his arms—mostly from her nails—and at least one bite mark near his collarbone.
“Right,” he muttered. “Well. Good to know that after near-death psychic fusion sex, you’ve entered the ‘watch-me-sleep’ phase of the relationship.”
Faevelith didn’t flinch. “I dreamed you tried to leave. I shattered your knees with a rune-axe and painted a claiming circle around your body in blood.”
Cassian stared. “Jesus.”
“You didn’t resist after that,” she added.
“I can’t tell if that’s Eldari pillow talk or a legal declaration of intent.”
Her lips twitched—barely—but it was there. That subtle Eldari hint of amusement, more implied than shown. The kind of expression you’d miss unless you were two inches from their face. Which he was.
She trailed her fingers along his jawline, thoughtful. “You are mine, Cassian.”
“Oh good. Starting the day with a claim of ownership. Very healthy.”
“I’m being honest.”
He arched a brow. “You lot invented a god of debauchery and sex because you weren’t honest about anything for ten thousand years.”
That earned a sharper look. Not anger—more like old shame veiled in pride.
“You think our fall was indulgence?” she said, voice cool, precise. “It was emptiness. Our emotions cut too deep. No governor. No ceiling. Once we learned how to feel, we didn’t stop until we carved a hole through reality.”
“She who thirsts was the universe telling you to dial it the fuck down.”
She ignored him. “Your kind. Humans. You live like mayflies. Fast. Brutal. Loud. But you burn out. We don’t. We smolder. And when the fire finally comes, it consumes everything.”
Cassian propped himself up on an elbow. “Right, which is why your ancestors started getting so creative with their depravity that they punched a god into the Warp. And now here you are, staring at me like I’m a priceless gem you want to lock in a box.”
She was quiet a moment, like she was considering something.
Then: “Do you want to know how my people marry?”
Cassian groaned. “This should be good.”
“In one of the ancient cultures,” she said, deadly serious, “a female would subdue the male in ritual combat, bind him to the marriage-bed with psy-weaves, and sear a soul-brand into his flesh. If the male survived the weeklong consummation rites, the union was sealed.”
Cassian blinked. “...What happens if he taps out on day three?”
“He is fed to the bonesingers as compost.”
“Holy shit.”
She leaned in. “You wouldn’t last two days.”
“Oh, that’s a challenge now?”
“I’d break you.”
“You’re literally quoting domestic violence as foreplay.”
“We’re an ancient species,” she replied serenely. “Our romantic customs predate your species learning how to walk upright.”
Cassian rubbed his temples. “You know, this whole ‘alien seductress with deeply concerning attachment issues’ thing would be way hotter if I wasn’t 40% sure I’m going to be turned into a soul-gem if I say the wrong thing.”
Faevelith looked satisfied. “Fear is healthy.”
“Yeah. So is consent.”
There was a pause. The air between them shifted. Not colder—just heavier.
She touched his cheek, fingers unusually gentle. “I meant what I said,” she whispered. “You ground me. I have become… attached.”
Cassian’s throat tightened a little. He nodded, trying not to let the moment get away from him.
“Same,” he muttered. “Even if you scare the hell out of me sometimes.”
“Good,” she said, and kissed him—soft, brief, but firm. Like a period at the end of a sentence.
Cassian sat up after that, dragging a hand through his hair. He looked around. The chamber was strangely serene now. The lights dimmed to a low, amber glow. The walls pulsed faintly, alive with some kind of psychic feedback.
And on a nearby table, someone—probably her—had laid out a tray. Fruit, bread, smoked meat that didn’t look quite dead, and something that might’ve been caffeine.
He grabbed a slice of something red and peeled it with his teeth. Sweet, sharp, probably toxic.
“You know,” he said, chewing, “you should consider just… eloping next time. No combat, no soul-binding, no kneecap-breaking rituals. Just a ring and a maybe a trip to a sunny beach.”
“I hate beaches.”
“Of course you do.”
—
Cassian leaned against the bed, letting the silence settle in between them. The air was thick with the weight of their unspoken words, of everything that had been said, and of what was still left to be said. He could feel her gaze on him, a searing intensity that was at once comforting and unsettling. Faevelith, in all her fierce beauty and complex passions, was someone he could never fully understand—but then again, maybe that was part of the draw.
The thought lingered for a moment before Cassian shook it off, refocusing on the matter at hand.
He exhaled slowly, his eyes finding hers, and spoke with a low, purposeful calm. “There’s more. Something I need to tell you.”
Faevelith didn’t move. She was a rock, unyielding, her expression unreadable. But he could feel her curiosity building, her impatience simmering beneath the surface.
“I want to bind the daemon.”
At first, she blinked, confused. Then, without missing a beat, her expression darkened. “You want to what?”
“The daemon. The one that has possessed Farseer Elithor.” Cassian paused, his lips curling into a grim smile. “I already have talked with Farron about this and he has agreed to work with me.”
Faevelith’s posture shifted, her hands tensing, her jaw tightening. She remained silent, but the crackling energy around her told Cassian all he needed to know. She was angry. And she was not happy with what he was implying.
“I need to bind him,” Cassian continued, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. “To a body. A vat-grown body. Artificial.”
Her eyes narrowed, the sudden chill of her gaze making him feel like he was standing on a frozen lake. “And you think this will solve anything? You think this... thing will be contained in some artificial shell?”
Cassian held his ground. “I don’t think it will be contained forever. But if I don’t do this now, he’ll keep lurking in the shadows, waiting. He’ll plot, scheme, and who knows how long it’ll take for him to push us into a corner. If we leave him alive, even in the background, there’s no guarantee that he won’t come after us again. I can’t afford to let him have the upper hand.”
Faevelith shook her head slowly, her voice dripping with disbelief. “Cassian, do you hear yourself? You’re talking about a Daemon Prince. They don’t just die. They don’t stay ‘contained’. And you—you think you can handle that?”
Cassian stepped closer, narrowing the gap between them. His voice grew quieter, more earnest. “I’m asking for your help. I need you to help me control it. Your power... it’s immense. We combine your abilities with Farron’s knowledge of machinery and psyker-tech. With your strength, we can at least hold him for a time. It’s the only way we’ll stop him from turning our lives into his personal hell.”
Her lips parted in something between a sneer and a smirk. “You think you can just ‘hold’ a daemon, Cassian? That you can play some game of cat and mouse and come out the victor?”
Cassian ran a hand through his hair, frustrated but not showing it outwardly. “It’s not about playing games. It’s about taking control of the situation before it takes control of us. If we don’t do this, we’re walking a razor’s edge. I don’t trust that daemon. And I don’t trust myself to stay one step ahead of him forever. But if we bind him now, if we take him out of the equation, we don’t have to worry about his schemes anymore.”
Faevelith’s face twisted in thought, her brow furrowed as she processed his words. For a long time, she said nothing. When she did speak, it was low, almost dangerous in its calm.
“Cassian, I don’t know what’s gotten into you. This is madness. You can’t just... lock a creature like that away. It will only be a matter of time before something goes wrong. And if we fail, we’ll be no better than the fools who thought they could control a daemon and ended up being swallowed by their own hubris.”
Cassian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I know the risks. But the way I see it, the risk of letting him live free is greater. He’s not just a random daemon. He’s a Prince of undivided. If he gets loose... if he escapes from Farseer’s body—”
She stepped forward, cutting him off, her voice cutting sharper than a blade. “Then we’ll face him together. As we always have. But don’t make the mistake of thinking you can ‘bind’ him without consequences. You think you’ll just trap him and walk away?”
Her eyes were on fire now, a dangerous, glittering intensity that made Cassian take a step back. For a moment, he saw her—really saw her—how much she cared, how deeply her words cut through the calm veneer she usually wore. But there was more to it than that. He could feel the fear in her voice, in the way she stood, poised like a predator ready to strike.
“This is no simple task, Cassian,” Faevelith said softly, her voice low and full of warning. “And I will not help you unless you truly understand what you’re asking. This is not just about the daemon. This is about us. About everything we’ve built, everything we’ve fought for. We’re not just talking about some stray beast from the Warp. We’re talking about a daemon prince who is not bound by the usual rules of the warp.”
Cassian nodded slowly, the weight of her words settling over him. “I understand,” he said quietly. “But I still think it’s the only way.”
Faevelith studied him for a long time, the tension between them thickening with every second. “Then you’re a fool,” she muttered, but her voice softened as she met his gaze. “But if this is the path you want to walk, then... I’ll help you.”
Cassian felt a flicker of relief, but it was quickly replaced by the heavy realization of just how dangerous this decision was. There was no turning back now.
She tilted her head, a half-smile creeping onto her lips. “But don’t think for a moment that I won’t make you regret it. We’ll need to be careful. One misstep, and we’ll be the ones trapped instead of him.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Cassian said, his voice low and confident.
The words lingered in the air between them. There was no more room for doubt. Whatever came next, they would face it together.
---
Word Count: 1960
Comments
Kratos5628
Read further, you will understand everything.
ShadowKnight
I still don’t get how he’s from our world with our knowledge yet still thinks of this idiotic plan
ShadowKnight
Perfect relationship
