It had been two weeks since Cassie had officially become a Master.
And in those two weeks, everything had shifted.
She never imagined herself the kind of woman who would tug her lover into bed and demand he stay there instead of slipping away to work. Yet here she was. Bold. Assertive. Someone entirely different from the girl she had once been — the girl who once stumbled through command, who disliked alcohol, who kept her desires locked behind caution and modesty.
Now, lying across her bed with the morning light brushing her skin, she smiled faintly at the memory. There was no denying it: she was happy.
Why wouldn't she be? Her boyfriend was handsome, charming, and powerful. He spoiled her without hesitation. He taught her things — or rather, his spirit, Lich, did. Still, what belonged to Klaus, in a way, belonged to her now. Runic Sorcery was no longer distant or mysterious. It was becoming familiar, almost natural.
But even with all that, Cassie couldn't help but feel conflicted about the future.
Cassie still cared deeply for Nephis. That hadn't changed. Neph was her best friend, and Cassie wanted to help her more than anything… but lately, she had begun to wonder: what about her own life?
The Firekeepers weren't an easy burden to carry. There was the looming political tension between them and the great clans. Her own efforts to tie the Firekeepers to Valor Clan had been complicated, delicate.
Could she be allowed happiness after achieving all this? Could she choose her own life?
She wasn't sure.
Originally, she had hoped Sunny would become the weapon to challenge Fate itself. But Klaus… Klaus already fit that role in many ways. Not only had he slipped free from Fate's grasp, but the stronger he grew, the more he was able to distort Fate's path.
Because Fate wasn't a minor thing. It wasn't just the realm of some lesser deity — it was the domain of the Demon of Fate, the Weaver. The most terrifying being in all of creation.
And Klaus had already become its enemy.
It wasn't a path she could guide him on, nor one she had the right to manipulate. Klaus valued control more than anything, and she would never be the one to take it from him.
Exhaling, she sat up and began to dress, her fingers tying her hair into a loose bun as her thoughts wandered. Klaus had promised her, once, that when the time came, he'd tell her everything. But she couldn't exactly scold him for secrets when she had her own, hidden deep behind her steady voice and careful smiles.
They were both selfish. Both of them could easily be called sinister. Maybe even disturbing.
It was ironic how two people like that had found each other.
She left her room, descending the stairs lost in thought — only to pause as she heard quiet laughter coming from the front hall. Her mother's voice.
Curious, she used her Ascended ability to see through her mother's eyes — and blinked. Was that… a box?
Cassie frowned. "What's that?"
Her mother turned with a grin and held the box out. "I think it's for you."
Cassie frowned, tilting her head.
"For me? Who sent it?"
Her mother only shrugged, a teasing light in her eyes. "Maybe a secret admirer. Although I imagine your charming little partner might not be too pleased about that."
Cassie flushed, cheeks warming as she glanced away. Spending almost every night at Klaus's estate had clearly not gone unnoticed. She cleared her throat, muttering, "It's probably nothing."
Ignoring her mother's knowing smirk, she took the box and opened it.
She blinked — then stared.
Inside was a dress. But not just any dress. This one was regal, rich in color and detail, the kind of thing a noblewoman or princess might wear to a grand ball. It shimmered faintly in the light, clearly custom-made and absurdly expensive.
Her mother's eyes lit up — then narrowed sharply. "Oh my. This dress fits you a little too perfectly… as in someone knew your exact measurements. Your exact body, in detail."
Cassie coughed, her cheeks now glowing crimson. "M-Mom! It's just a coincidence."
Her mother gave her a long, skeptical look. "We'll see about that…"
As Cassie fumbled for a response, her mother fished something from the box — a letter.
"Wait—don't read that—!" Cassie lunged, but her mother was already unfolding the note with a wicked smile.
She read aloud:
"Please join the Zakharov family this evening for dancing, drinks, and celebration."
Her mother's eyes widened. She looked from the letter to Cassie, then back again. Her amusement faded, replaced by a note of exasperation.
"So it was from Klaus. Cassie… Cassie!"
"What?" Cassie said, startled. "I'm right here—"
Her mother fixed her with a deadly serious look. "Just don't get pregnant. Got it?"
Cassie stared at her, horrified. "MOM!"
"What 'Mom'?! her mother huffed. "Don't do anything stupid. You two are reckless enough."
Before Cassie could muster a response, her mother's brow furrowed. She reached back into the box and plucked out a second envelope—this one smaller, with no formal seal. She turned it in her fingers and squinted at the handwriting.
"For little wolf…"
Her eyes flicked to Cassie with a knowing smirk.
"Isn't that what he calls you?"
Cassie's breath hitched. Her heart dropped into her stomach as sheer panic gripped her.
Oh no.
Panic shot through her like lightning. That wasn't an official message—if that was Klaus's personal note, who knows what embarrassingly sweet or entirely inappropriate things he might've written?
Cassie's stomach dropped. "M-Mom, give it back—" she reached forward instinctively, cheeks glowing red, but her mother simply turned away from her grasp with practiced ease, holding the letter out of reach like Cassie was a toddler again.
"Oh no," her mother said lightly, enjoying every second. "If you're going to come home with mystery boxes and love notes, then I am entitled to some answers."
"Please," Cassie hissed, face practically steaming. "That one's personal!"
But her mother ignored her completely, lifting the letter and reading aloud with theatrical clarity, as if reciting a love poem to an audience:
"To my dearest wolf,
Two days apart, and already it feels like an eternity. It's almost foolish how endlessly my thoughts return to you—sharp, constant, and quietly aching. I miss you, not in some grand, poetic way, but in the simplest, most human one.
I long for your presence beside me tonight… to lose myself in your eyes once more, to share laughter, warmth, and perhaps a stolen dance or two.
—From your Big Bad Wolf."
Her mother blinked. Slowly. Then raised an eyebrow, lips twitching in a mix of amusement and disbelief.
"Well… that was strangely romantic," she said, drawing out the word strangely like it carried weight. "He's got a way with words, doesn't he?"
Cassie looked like she was trying to disappear into the floorboards. Her hands covered her face, hiding the furious blush that painted her from forehead to neck. She groaned into her palms.
"Can we please just forget this happened…"
But her mother wasn't done. Her gaze softened, a rare expression of fondness blooming across her face.
"He's… intense," she murmured. "But he means it."
Then, almost too quickly, the moment shifted. She narrowed her eyes with a mother's intuition sharpened over years.
"Still. Don't get swept up too much, alright? I like Klaus, but don't get pregnant, got it?"
"MOM!"
The response was immediate and mortified, echoing through the house like a bell.
Her mother chuckled, finally placing the letter down on the table as if it were a relic too sacred to hold any longer. She patted Cassie's shoulder briefly before heading back to the living room.
"I'm just saying! You're not as subtle as you think, Cassie! And you're always at his place, not yours!"
Cassie slumped onto the nearest chair, defeated. Her cheeks were on fire, and her dignity felt like it had just jumped out the window.
Cassie stayed frozen for a second longer. Then, once the coast was clear, she snatched both letters, shoved them carefully back into the box, and cradled it like a precious secret.
Heart fluttering, she stood up quickly—perhaps a little too quickly—and nearly tripped over the first stair in her excitement.
"Calm down, idiot…" she muttered under her breath, catching the rail just in time and grinning like a lovesick fool.
She closed her bedroom door with a soft click behind her, placing the box gently on the bed as if it might shatter. Then she sat beside it, fingers still pressed to her cheeks, eyes wide.
He missed her.
Like… really missed her.
As she ran her fingers over the soft fabric, a soft sigh escaped her lips.
"Big bad wolf, huh?" she murmured. Then she smiled—gentle, shy, and real.