Cass didn't know how he survived the night, and honestly? He didn't care.
All he knew was that he woke up in the tent alone, just like how he had been when he had gone to bed. He was shaking slightly, cold to his bones, but it wasn't that deep, worrying cold that he had woken up to twice now.
So, Cass got dressed, pulled himself out of the tent groggily and glanced around.
The fire was dim, and there was only one silhouette by the fire. Cass didn't even need to think long about who it was. Especially as they shifted as soon as Cass came into view. Cass did gasp when he caught sight of his face.
He looked fucking battered. Fiona had really laid into him, and Lucian smiled bitterly when he saw Cass.
"How was your sleep? Are you cold?" He asked, his voice quiet, but somehow able to reach Cass even with the distance between them. Cass' heart jerked. He didn't feel…bad for the man. Not truly. He did feel sympathy for him. That had to hurt.
