Klaus exhaled slowly, running a hand through his tousled hair. This was a fragile subject—raw, buried, and not one he discussed easily. And yet, something inside him yearned to share it. He didn't want the foundation of whatever he was building with Cassie to rest on half-truths and silence.
"I hoped…" he began, his voice quieter now, tinged with bitterness. "When I walked toward the Dreamspawn... a part of me wished he'd do something. Maybe try to stop me. Fight the bastard. Drag me back. I know it was my choice, sure. But realizing your own father gave up on you so easily..."
He trailed off, jaw clenching. "It feels like shit."
Cassie nodded, uncertain of how to respond. Her life had been, if not perfect, then at least normal. Loving parents, warm meals, a home. But lately, it seemed like everyone around her carried some twisted, tragic history. Hers was beginning to feel like the exception, not the rule.
She gently took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. Her touch was soft, grounding.
"I can't pretend to understand," she said, voice low but steady. "But… I'm here."
Klaus pulled a face like someone had forced him to swallow vinegar. Gods, this was exactly why he avoided these conversations. He shook his head with a half-laugh, rubbing at his temples like her kindness physically pained him.
"Oh? Is that so? Well then, you have my gratitude, my fair lady," he said with theatrical pomp. "But truly—don't trouble yourself."
Cassie rolled her eyes, biting back a retort. Here she was, trying to offer comfort, and the arrogant bastard was brushing it off with mockery. Typical. She sighed, not in annoyance this time, but with a kind of resigned affection.
"Just keep talking."
Klaus's laughter faded, and he caught his breath. The amusement drained from his face, leaving behind something heavier.
"I never wanted to go back," he murmured. "And I didn't. But at some point… I met him again. This time, on the battlefield."
Cassie froze mid-step, her expression tightening. A grim suspicion slithered into her thoughts. Her mouth opened, then closed again as they walked through the quiet garden, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound between them.
Klaus's eyes narrowed, his gaze locked ahead as his expression twisted into something dark—bitterness, disdain, something older than anger.
"I didn't expect a warm embrace or anything," he said, voice flat. "But I thought… maybe he'd recognize me. Just see me. But what I got was him calling me a filthy beast. An abomination."
Cassie glanced at him, her eyes glowing faintly as she used essence to catch glimpses of his face a few seconds into the future—an unconscious habit now. Klaus might appear invincible, unshakable, but she knew better. Underneath that mask was a well of pain so vast and deep, it chilled her.
And still, she found herself aching to understand more. Who was Klaus, truly? Who were his parents? She already knew none of the Zakharovs were related by blood, that their family was a strange mosaic of orphans and outcasts bound by loyalty rather than lineage.
Klaus had parents once—real ones. And yet, they were gone. His adopted mother, too, had died. And if the whispers she'd heard were true, every person who could've been called biological family was already lost to him. Aurora, his former lover. Jack, his brother. Tatiana had mentioned as much—how Klaus, once so gentle, had become someone else entirely.
Cassie lowered her gaze, lips pressed into a tight line. No wonder he was like this.
So many people would have broken in his place. Crushed under the weight of it. Some would've ended their own lives. Others would have simply withered, shriveling into empty husks of themselves.
But Klaus?
He laughed. He drank. He cracked jokes like a lunatic and strutted through life like a fool, wearing madness like armor. She saw it now. It wasn't arrogance or joy—it was deflection. A constant, exhausting performance. And it made her chest hurt.
He was in pain.
He always had been.
But he never spoke of it. Never hinted at it. While the others recounted their traumas over the past few months, Klaus had remained silent, brushing it all off with a smirk and a shrug.
"It was a walk in the park," he'd said.
But was it? Or had he simply downplayed his own suffering again, too proud to show weakness?
Why hadn't she seen it before?
Klaus Zakharov didn't allow himself vulnerability. In his eyes, that would be pathetic. Pitiful. Unforgivable. His pride wouldn't let him lean on anyone.
And maybe that's why, despite everything, she was still holding his hand.
Because someone had to.
Cassie came to an abrupt halt, halting Klaus with a gentle tug of his hand. He turned to look at her, an unspoken question in his eyes as the quiet night air settled between them. Her breaths came shallow and uneven, as though she were trying to summon courage from the stillness around them.
She lingered for a moment, then spoke—her voice barely above a whisper, laced with hesitation.
"Who are you really, Klaus? Who were your parents? Dreamspawn wouldn't have taken just anyone. You must've been someone exceptional... someone from a Great Clan, perhaps? I don't know. It's all so tangled—and you always dance around the truth."
Klaus froze, his expression darkening with internal conflict. For a fleeting moment, the thought crossed his mind—he could simply order Miseria to wipe the question from her memory, erase the worry from her eyes, and let silence settle over the subject again. It would be safer. Cleaner. Logical.
But he couldn't. Not to her. Not anymore.
Cassie had become far too important for such cruelty. He had tried to keep his distance once, to push her away with biting humor and cold indifference. In the depths of the Ebony Tower, he'd worn the mask of a selfish bastard, all to avoid the guilt of loving again—of betraying Aurora's memory. But now? Now, with Cassie's hand in his, with her heart laid bare before him… everything had shifted. Clarity and chaos warred in equal measure.
He desired her, not just like a man loves a woman, but like a drowning man reaches for light.
He raked a hand through his hair with a quiet curse, eyes narrowing as he fought for composure. Drawing a slow, steady breath, Klaus finally met her gaze, his expression bleak and unguarded.
"Do you trust me?"
Cassie tilted her head, a teasing smirk curling her lips as if to ease the tension. "You?" she scoffed. "You wouldn't even trust yourself."
He blinked, caught off guard, then let out a soft laugh despite himself. A slow smile unfurled across his face, pride glinting in his eyes.
That's my girl. She's learning how to throw the blade and make it land soft. Suck that, Forgotten Shore!
Before he could gather his thoughts, Cassie gave a playful tug at his haori. He looked down—and his breath caught as her lips found his.
For a moment, he just stood there. Then his mouth curved upward, his hands wrapping around her waist to pull her closer, amusement sparking in his eyes. When did she become so daring? Hah… surprise after surprise, little wolf... Not that he minded.
Cassie took a shaky breath and stepped back, her eyes shimmering and cheeks tinged with crimson.
"Is that… good enough of an answer?"
Klaus tilted his head, amusement curling in his smile. Well, well, well… Lady Song of the Fallen, he mused silently. You really went ahead and almost made me blush, huh?
He stepped forward, gently cradling her face in his hands, his thumb brushing her cheek like a whisper.
"When the time is right," he said softly, "I'll tell you everything. That's a promise. Not because I doubt you, or your strength… but because the truth isn't just heavy—it's a blade. And I don't want it to wound you."
His voice grew tender, each word carved from sincerity and a quiet ache.
"You are the storm that stirs my thoughts… and the stillness that soothes my soul. You are the crown of my hope, the anchor to my chaos. And when I am with you, Cassie… even time forgets to move."
Cassie's breath hitched. Something bloomed in her chest—warm, luminous, and uncontainable. Her heart threatened to overflow, her composure fraying like silk in a storm. Still, a small, radiant smile found its way to her lips.
Klaus lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. With his other hand, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture as soft as moonlight.
"Learning to love," he murmured, "is hard and we pay dearly for it. it takes hard work and long apprenticeship, for it is not just for a moment we must learn to love, but forever. So i want you to know this..."
He paused, his gaze drinking her in, the edges of his smile softening.
"I love you—for a hundred years and forever more. I will not have you without the darkness that hides in your soul, just as I will not deny the madness that dwells within mine. If the worst in us cannot dance, then neither can we. So tell me every terrible thing about you—and still let me love you anyway."
Cassie stood frozen, eyes wide, soul alight with wonder and disbelief. Her heart thundered like a war drum, wild and erratic.
When did he become so romantic?!? her mind cried. No—wait, wasn't he always like this?!?
Get it together, Cassie! You sound like a lovesick teenager! But what do I say now?! Whatever I say will sound like… like dry toast compared to that!
Klaus watched her quietly, amusement dancing in his gaze as his eyes flickered in glowing shades of violet. He could see her heart pounding, her breath uneven.
He leaned in, kissed her nose, and chuckled when she yelped.
Turning away, he resumed walking, his laughter echoing through the quiet garden.
Ah, teasing her will never get old.
***
Geez, writing this made me cringe for real. Anyway, I don't know how this one come out. Is it bad? Maybe overdramatic?
I'm really unsure when writing romance. Fights are easier to write for me than this.
Anyway, leave any ideas and criticism if you have one so i can improve story.
Thanks for all your support and happy people are enjoying this story.
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