Page 12 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

"And you thought breaking me yourself was the better option?" My voice wavers, sharp with disbelief. "That if you were the one to ruin me, it would hurt less?"

Cassian flinches, but his gaze remains steady. "If I had fought for you, they would've come after you harder. If I had stayed, they would have ripped you apart. This way... at least you got to keep something."

Something inside me twists violently, a scream building in my throat. I had spent years believing he left because I wasn't enough. Because I was too human. Because what we had meant nothing to him.

But now, the truth is worse.

Because he did it to save me.

Because he thought hurting me himself was kinder than what the Council would've done.

A sharp breath rattles through me. "And now?" I demand. "Why are you telling me this now?"

Cassian exhales, his fingers flexing at his sides. "Because I heard about your project."

My pulse stutters.

His gaze flickers over me, unreadable. "When I saw your name attached to it, I knew I had to step in. The university is already on shaky ground with the Council, and if they see you as a factor in that—" He drags a hand through his hair, jaw tightening. "I couldn't ignore it."

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest, the weight of everything pressing down on me. "So you suddenly care?"

His eyes darken. "I never stopped caring, Elara." The words are quiet but sharp. "I told myself I was keeping my distance for a reason, but when I saw what you were building—when I saw your name linked to something the Council already doesn't trust—I knew I had to be there. To make sure you were okay."

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "You really expect me to believe that? That you just happened to show up out of concern?"

Steeling my spine, I force my voice to stay even. "You don't get to decide what's best for me. Not then, and definitely not now."

His jaw tenses, but he doesn't argue.

Good. Because I don't want to hear it.

I turn, walking fast, my breath unsteady, my chest tight.

I don't look back.

His confession lingers, wrapping around old wounds, making them fresh again.

"They told me you were a liability."

"If I didn't reject you, they'd ruin you."

The Council manipulated our bond.

Cassianlet them.

A sharp, bitter ache settles deep in my ribs.

No matter how much his confession explains?—

It doesn'tfixit.

It doesn'tundoit.

And it sure as hell doesn't change the fact that when it mattered most?—

He chosethemover me.

Zara's apartment is controlled chaos—papers scattered across the coffee table, sticky notes clinging to the walls, and a corkboard covered in hastily scribbled connections. The scent of coffee and printer ink lingers in the air, mixing with her faint vanilla lotion as she sits on the couch. Her laptop is balanced on one knee with her long, brown braids falling over her shoulder as she types. She's been in this exact position for hours, eyes flicking between screens, a predator tracking a lead.

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