Page 62 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

He steps closer, lowering his voice. "You're planning a summit to unite people against the Council. That's exactly what my rebellion stands for."

I arch a brow. "Your rebellion? Cassian, this summit isn't about you."

"I never said it was." His voice is smooth, persuasive. "But you need allies. I have resources—fighters, informants, people willing to put their lives on the line for this cause. You could use them."

I glance back toward the door. "And what do you expect in return?"

His eyes darken. "I expect to be heard."

A muscle ticks in my jaw. "So that's what this is? You want a seat at the table?"

"I want to help you win."

The words linger between us, weighted with something unspoken.

"I don't trust you," I say finally.

Cassian tilts his head. "Because of the rebellion? Or because of something else?"

I don't answer.

"People like you...when they're given an inch, they take the whole damn continent."

"Elara, this isn't about me trying to take control of your summit. It's about survival. The Council is losing its grip, and if we don't act now, we'll lose momentum. I can make sure that doesn't happen."

The worst part is that he's not wrong.

But this summit can't be another power struggle. If Cassian wants to overthrow the Council just to install his own version of authority, then we're fighting for different things.

I shake my head. "This isn't a rebellion. It's a movement. It's about uniting, not replacing one form of control with another."

Cassian's expression hardens. "And you think the Council will just step aside because we ask nicely?"

"No," I admit. "But I think there's another way."

Silence stretches between us, tense and crackling.

Finally, he steps back. "Fine. Do it your way. But don't come to me when you realize you need more than words."

I lift my chin. "I'll take that risk."

Cassian studies me for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether to push further. But then he nods once, sharp and deliberate. "Good luck, Elara."

And with that, he's gone.

I linger on the balcony, staring out at the city, trying to slow my racing pulse.

Zara's voice floats through the open door. "That was fun to eavesdrop on."

I turn to find her leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a smirk playing at the edges of her lips.

"I didn't let him hijack it," I say.

She nods approvingly. "No, you didn't."

Something shifts in her expression, something softer. "You know, you're getting good at this."

I let out a breath. "At what?"

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