NOAH
The air in the locked conference room had reached a boiling point, the sheer weight of my resentment pouring out of me in a jagged torrent.
Cassian had stood there for what felt like an eternity, absorbing my insults like they were physical blows, his face a shifting landscape of dark shadows and suppressed violence.
Finally, I let him speak. I stopped for breath, my chest heaving, my throat raw.
Cassian didn't roar. He didn't lung. Instead, his voice dropped into a low, dangerous register that made the hair on my arms stand up.
"You think people like Alex are automatically good, Noah?" he asked, his tone mocking but lethal. "Automatically safe? You think a few nice words and a curated smile mean someone is trustworthy?"
