Page 72 of Red Dreams

“You don't know anything about me,” Layla snarls, advancing on Cassie. “Or about Kaden. You're just a bitter, twisted shell of a person who wants to destroy anything good.”

Cassie's blue eyes flash with a dangerous light as she regains her footing, the knife glinting in her hand.

“Oh, kitten's got claws,” she purrs. “But do you really think you can take me on? I was raised by alion.”

Layla doesn't back down, her contrasting eyes blazing with a fury I've never seen before.

“You don't get to come into my home and destroy the things I love,” Layla spits through gritted teeth. “You don't get to poison everything you touch just because you're hurting inside.”

Cassie's smirk falters, a glimmer of pain passing over her face before it hardens into a mask of cold anger. “Keep talking, princess. See what happens.”

Cassie lunges with a feral snarl, the knife slashing through the air. I’m mid-leap when Layla reacts instinctively, twisting to the side just as I taught her. The blade misses her by a hairbreadth.

In a flash, Layla grabs Cassie's wrist and wrenches it hard, slamming it against the bookshelf. Cassie cries out in pain and surprise, the knife clattering to the floor.

Layla doesn't hesitate. She shoves Cassie hard, sending her stumbling back into the shelf. Books rain down around them as Cassie crashes to the floor.

Breathing hard, Layla stands over her, hands still clenched into fists. “I may not have had your childhood, Cassie, but don't for a second think you know what I've been through. I'm asurvivor, just like you. The difference is, I didn't let it turn me into a vindictive bitch.”

Cassie glares up at her, chest heaving. For one hot second, I think she might try to stab Layla in the neck. My muscles tense, ready to intercept.

But then Cassie laughs, heartless and edged with hysteria.

“Well, well, well,” she gasps out. “Looks like Daddy’s new pet has some bite after all.”

As much as a part of me wants to let this continue to play out, to let Layla put Cassie in her place, I know I can't allow it to escalate further. Not with my daughter's fragile state of mind or Layla's safety on the line.

In less than two strides, I’m behind Layla, my hand closing in a firm but gentle grip around her upper arm. She startles at my touch, her head whipping around to meet my gaze.

“Enough,” I say. “Both of you.”

Slowly, I turn my gaze to Cassie, still sprawled on the floor amid the scattered books. My daughter meets my eyes with a defiant glare, but there’s a flicker of fear behind the bravado. She knows the consequences of pushing too far.

“Get up,” I order, my tone as hard and cold as steel. “Now.”

Cassie hesitates for a fraction of a second before obeying, pushing herself to her feet with a wince. She stands before me, chin lifted, a challenge in her eyes even as she favors her bruised wrist. I crouch down beside her, picking up the discarded knife. Cassie flinches almost imperceptibly as I rise, twirling the blade between my fingers, examining it. It's a good knife, well-balanced and razor-sharp. A weapon befitting the daughter of an assassin.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” I say, my voice deceptively soft.

I throw the knife into the wall, burying it to the hilt barely an inch from Cassie's shoulder. She goes utterly still. “Layla is nota pet or a plaything for you to torment. She is mine to protect, just as you are. You are here because I allow it. Because despite your abuse of people I care about, I still believe there is a shred of humanity left in you worth saving.”

Cassie flinches as if I've struck her, her mask of arrogance cracking for the briefest of moments. But I'm not finished.

“But make no mistake, Cassandra. If you ever,everthreaten Layla again, if you so much as look at her wrong … I will put you down like the rabid dog you’ve become. Daughter or not.”

The words taste like ash in my mouth, but I force them out, knowing they need to be said. Knowing it’s the only kind of threat Cassie responds to, as well as the certainty that Layla’s safety, Layla’s very life, is in my hands.

Cassie's eyes widen, genuine humiliation and something akin to hurt mingling in their blue depths. For a moment, she looks achingly young, a lost little girl playing at being a bad guy.

Then her face hardens, the vulnerability vanishing behind a sneer. “Understood,Father.”

She turns on her heel and stalks out of the room. The front door slams, echoing through the cottage like a gunshot.

I close my eyes briefly, exhaustion settling into my bones. When I open them again, Layla is watching me, her expression concerned. “Kaden, you didn’t have to?—”

I shake my head, cutting her off. “Not now, Wraithling.”

I turn away from Layla, needing a moment to collect myself. Striding over to the wall, I yank the switchblade free, then tuck it into my boot. The weight of my words to Cassie settle like lead in my gut. Am I prepared to kill my own flesh and blood? I’d come to terms with it at Siren’s Call when I thought all was lost, but Layla helped me see the light. See my daughter again. Though I’m beginning to realize the daughter I once had is no longer a possibility. Cassandra Morelli is who she is now, and I either have to kill her or learn to accept the woman she’s become.

---