“Do not move,” he murmured, his voice low and roughened, still thick with the remnants of passion.
Before she could question him, he rose from the bed. The room’s faint glow caught the lines of his broad back, and she admired the sight with a warmth that curled low in her stomach. But then the light shifted again, and Isabella’s breath caught in her throat.
The scars.
She had seen them before, but he had not covered them quickly when he had noticed her presence. Not faint ones, not the kind inflicted by an accidental scrape or boyhood mischief, but hard, violent strokes, jagged lines crossing the breadth of his back in uneven patterns, as though carved there by malice. She had not noticed them while they had been making love, but she had been too distracted by the feelings to pay attention.
She sat up, the coverlet clutching her chest. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged.
Cassian, unaware of her staring, retrieved a warm cloth from the nearby basin. When he returned to her side, he dipped his head to murmur to her, as though cleaning her after what they shared was the most natural, unremarkable thing.
But she was barely listening.
“Cassian,” she whispered, her voice catching. “Your back.”
He paused, and the cloth fell still in his hand.
Slowly, however, he lifted his head and met her gaze. Something shuttered across his features, the softness replaced by a stony mask more rigid than she had ever seen on him.
“It is nothing.”
“Do not tell me that,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please.”
A long silence stretched between them. The fire popped. Outside, the winter wind swept against the windowpanes. Cassian remained perfectly still, the muscles in his jaw tight.
Finally, he sat beside her, the mattress dipping with his weight as he stared forward and not at her. His voice, when it came, felt as though dragged from a place he rarely allowed anyone access to.
“They are from… before. When I was taken as a child.” He said harshly, every word dripping with hurt.
Isabella reached for his hand, her fingers curling around his with gentle insistence.
“Will you tell me?”
Another long pause, and then, quietly, reluctantly, “Some…”
He drew a slow breath.
“Some say my father loved this duchy more than his own life. He was dedicated to it and everything it entailed, including a rivalry that began as a friendly sport but turned into something dark like hatred. I was a victim of that hatred when I was abducted and taken to Scotland,” he paused, then, with a deep breath, he carried on, “My captors were very diligent. They did anything and everything to ensure fear and obedience. These scars… they are proof of that.”
A small gasp escaped Isabella’s lips; she could hardly imagine the horror, and her heart ached that a young Cassian endured such hardship. She, however, didn’t say a word, waiting for him to tell her all.
“The aim was total humiliation of our family, but it lasted far longer than it should have,” he continued.
Isabella’s breath tightened.
“They took me one night. I did not understand at first. I thought it a game.” His jaw clenched as though he despised admitting such childish innocence. “But the game ended quickly when threats turned into persuasion.”
Her fingers tightened around his.
He swallowed, the movement harsh. “They wanted to frighten the heir, and they succeeded.”
The air left her lungs in a soft, pained rush.
“I was with them for a total of three years, until I could hardly take it anymore. I…escaped.”
There was more, Isabella thought within her, but she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him; this was a sacred moment.
“I was eighteen when I escaped them. I could not return home. Not then. I had no notion of where I was, nor how to find my way back, so I worked. It was nothing remarkable, but it kept me anchored. I apprenticed myself to a carpenter of some repute, a decent man, who treated me fairly and paid me what I was owed. I remained with him for two years. When I was finally able to return, it was already too late. The damage had been done. The ton had begun calling methe stolen dukelong before the Everthorne title ever came to me.”
