Chained Hearts: From Slavery to Sovereignty
Chapter 129: You Seem Distracted, Leader Hayes

Chapter 129: Chapter 129: You Seem Distracted, Leader Hayes

The City Lord stepped forward, rolling his shoulders once as if to loosen them. The moment he moved in front of Cassian, Cassian felt even the air between them had become somewhat strange.

The City Lord stood tall in front of him, too tall to his liking. Because Cassian had to tilt his chin slightly to meet his gaze—and he hated it. He hated it very much.

Even though Cassian trained every single day, even though he was known as the strongest in the field, even though his own body was lean and cut with sharp muscle, next to this bastard... he felt smaller. Just slightly and felt like his gaze was ready to burn a hole in him.

How the hell is this man even human? Cassian thought, his irritation boiling with every passing second. What noble grows past two damn meters? What the hell is he eating?

Even though he was 194 cm, he looked small in front of him and this point was enough to ruin his mood... he felt like he was at a disadvantage.

The City Lord’s tunic strained slightly as he moved, fabric tightening over his chest and arms. He gave one final deliberate stretch, slow—his arms lifting high and then flexing just enough to make Cassian twitch.

And the worst part?

He smiled right after. That same faint, unreadable curve of lips that made Cassian want to knock the teeth out of his mouth.

"You seem distracted, Leader Hayes," the City Lord murmured, stepping into stance with a hand raised, "Should I go easy on you?"

Cassian’s jaw ticked. "Try me."

He lunged first, not waiting for any more nonsense. Their fists met with a sharp knocking sound. Some knights flinched. Others leaned forward, eager to watch the chaos.

Cassian moved fast, keeping low and precise. His strikes were heavy, relentless. But the City Lord, Dorian—matched him blow for blow, not flinching once.

And worse, he talked while they fought.

"You hit harder than I expected," Dorian said, parrying a sharp strike to his ribs. His voice was smooth, calm, too damn relaxed. "But I suppose it makes sense. You’re used to being on top."

Cassian’s grip slipped for a half-second.

He recovered fast—but Dorian noticed. And smiled.

Then he stepped closer, too close and whispered near Cassian’s ear, "Though I wonder what you’d look like from below."

Cassian nearly choked on his own breath. He swung harder, aiming directly for Dorian’s side, but the man twisted easily, ducking with fluid motion and slipping behind him.

Cassian turned quickly—but Dorian’s hand had already brushed too low on his back, which was too obvious to be an accident. It was so quick that no one saw and too fast to be sure. But Cassian felt it and the intention behind it too.

"You bastard," he growled under his breath.

"Hmm?" Dorian blinked innocently. "Something wrong?"

Cassian didn’t answer. He struck again, pouring all his irritation into the attack. Their fists clashed violently. Dorian stumbled back slightly this time—but his smirk remained.

"I have to admit," Dorian murmured, circling him slowly, "I’m enjoying this. You’re so... reactive. So easy to fluster. It’s charming."

Cassian’s eye twitched. "I am not flustered."

Another swing. Another block.

"You’re trembling," Dorian added lightly, stepping forward with calculated ease, "Is it from anger... or anticipation?"

Cassian dropped his fist. Now he was not gonna fight with this, because he was blocking it effortlessly.

He moved in with his full body weight, grabbing Dorian by the front of his tunic and slamming him back—but Dorian just laughed.

Cassian’s chest heaved. "You think this is funny?"

Dorian’s lips brushed close to his ear, voice a low murmur that only Cassian could hear.

"I think you’re adorable when you’re like this."

Cassian saw red.

But before he could punch him in the face, a cheer went up from the sidelines.

"Leader Hayes is going all out!"

"Are they wrestling now?"

Cassian froze—realizing how this looked. He was pinning the City Lord, bodies too close, hand fisted in his shirt. Dorian’s back was slightly arched, head tilted with that smug little smile. To everyone else, it looked like a scene straight out of a steamy romance novel.

Cassian shoved him away roughly.

"We’re done here," he said, voice low and dangerous.

Dorian straightened his tunic, brushing off invisible dust, still smiling. "As you wish. But next time... maybe let me win. Or at least don’t moan when I touch you."

Cassian’s brain exploded.

He stormed off the field, fists clenched, ears burning.

And behind him, the knights howled with laughter.

After the chaos of the sparring match, the knights finally dispersed. Their laughter faded as they returned to their rooms, each one moving to prepare for the upcoming mission. The mood had shifted. Playful teasing turned into focus.

Cassian, on the other hand, stormed away from the training grounds like a storm barely contained. His footsteps echoed through the corridor as he reached his quarters. The door slammed shut behind him.

He yanked off his tunic, now damp with sweat and dust, and headed straight for the bathing room. The moment the water hit his skin, he felt the tension in his body start to ease—but only slightly. The heat rolled down his back, washing away the grime, but not the lingering irritation from earlier.

His mind replayed Dorian’s words. That damn voice. That shameless smirk. The way he whispered things no sane noble should ever say out loud. The way he touched him.

Cassian growled softly, slamming a hand against the wall. He stayed under the cold longer than necessary, hoping the cold water would remove those memories out of his skull.

But it didn’t work.

Eventually, he stepped out and dried off quickly. He dressed in his gear—tight black combat wear under reinforced leather armor. His sword was strapped across his back. His gloves buckled tight. His short cloak clipped in place. Every piece of equipment was checked and adjusted.

He wasn’t going to let anything throw him off on this mission. Not even that infuriating man.

As he stepped out of his room, his boots clicking against the stone floor, something unexpected happened.

A blur of movement rushed past him, fast and wild.

Cassian barely had time to step aside. A figure darted so close that it nearly knocked him over. His shoulder twisted to keep his balance, and his back thudded lightly against the stone wall.

"What the—?" he snapped, already reaching for his blade out of reflex.

But the figure didn’t stop. It vanished down the corridor, dark cloak fluttering behind, face hidden.

Cassian cursed under his breath. He was already in a bad mood, and now this.

"Damn lunatics," he muttered, scowling. "This place is crawling with them."

Still, he let it go. He wasn’t about to chase after some fool running through the halls like their feet were on fire. He didn’t have the time, and he refused to stoop to that level.

Straightening his cloak, he continued walking, his expression locked back into the hard focus of a leader.

Outside, the sun had just begun its climb, casting golden light over the wide open ground before the fortress. Horses stood lined up, saddled and ready.

The knights, now dressed in full gear, stood tall beside them, looking sharper than they had in days. Their chatter had died down.

Cassian approached with measured steps, his presence immediately drawing their attention.

He nodded once, calm and commanding. "Mount up. We depart now."

Without hesitation, the knights followed his order. They climbed onto their horses, checking their gear one last time. Some adjusted weapons strapped to saddlebags. Others tightened their cloaks. In seconds, the entire group was ready.

Cassian mounted his own horse, gripping the reins firmly. His eyes scanned over the group, confirming each face, each presence. Then, with a firm voice, he gave the command.

"Move out."

The fortress gates groaned open.

The sound of hooves striking stone echoed as the party rode out, one by one, disappearing into the misty morning light. Their mission: to find the ancient temple hidden deep beyond the wall of Galdreth.

High above, standing on the highest balcony of the fortress tower, Dorian watched them leave.

He leaned one arm lazily on the railing, the morning wind brushing through his hair. His expression was unreadable at first, but as Cassian’s figure disappeared into the trees, something changed.

His lips curved.

A soft, mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. His gaze was distant but sharp, like he could see far beyond the horizon.

He murmured, voice low and almost fond, "Ah, my dear... why can’t you ever lay low?"

He chuckled to himself, the sound carried off by the wind.

"Always attracting trouble. Tsk."

He straightened, adjusting the sleeves of his robe.

Then, still smiling, he turned and vanished back into the tower with his intentions unknown. But in his eyes, there was something quietly dangerous.

Something that hinted this journey wouldn’t go as planned. Not for Cassian. Not for anyone.

And it was exactly what he wanted.