To His Hell and Back
Chapter 84: Push Even Further

Chapter 84: Push Even Further

A/N: thank you for always reading the book everyone<3 Today’s Chapter is longer!

--

For a moment, Cassius didn’t move. Instead, he watched her. He watched how her fingers curled tightly around the medicine box and how her lips pressed together as if steeling herself against him. So cautious. So determined.

Then, with slow deliberation, he shifted. His muscles tensed as he turned his back to her, the fabric of his bathrobe slipping lower until it stopped around his hips, revealing the raw, angry cuts marring his pale skin.

Arabella inhaled sharply, her fingers twitching. The wounds looked worse up close. Those thin, precise slashes that had scabbed over in places, while others still glistened with slow healing blood. Each of the wounds was deep, it wasn’t a normal leather whip, but something worse and heavier.

When she imagined being whipped, her back already shuddered but when she imagined what kind of object had hit Cassius it made her heart sink even lower.

Though earlier she had asked who had punished him so severely, deep down she was aware of the answer even without questioning it. After all, there is only one person high above Cassius. That person is the King, his father.

She recalled again Queen Morgana’s words, how she had told her about Cassius failing on his mission, the one that he went together with her. Was it because of her that he failed? Because of her that these wounds were dug deep into his flesh?

She didn’t quite feel a sense of friendship with Cassius. Their bond was odd and one of a kind, but she didn’t feel comfortable knowing that his wounds were somehow caused by her.

She swallowed hard, pressing her lips together. He hadn’t winced, hadn’t flinched, but she could see it, the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his fingers flexed against his knee. He wasn’t immune to pain. He had just learned to master it.

Silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice quieter now. "This will sting."

Cassius smirked, though she couldn’t see it. "Do your worst, little bird."

She stopped herself from staring at the wounds and worked her way to dress the wound. Her fingers were steady as she uncorked the vial of medicine. The sharp scent of herbs filled the space between them, an almost comical contrast to the rich, metallic tang of blood that still lingered in the air. She dipped the cloth into the liquid, pressing it gently to one of the wounds on his back.

Cassius didn’t flinch. Of course, he wouldn’t. The pain was nothing. But the sensation of her touch, of her hands moving with careful precision, well that was something.

"You do realize," he drawled, his voice a lazy purr, "that this is entirely useless?"

She huffed. "So you keep saying but shouldn’t this at least heal a little? Or lessen the pain? This one said it can lessen the pain."

"Pain doesn’t matter to me," he answered with a faint chuckle. "You do know that worse things have been done to me and I can endure it? This pain is nothing compared to the rest."

Her fingers stopped hearing it. How many things? How many wounds have been carved to his skin, only to be healed?

"You’re no different than a broken vase."

Cassius raised a brow, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he turned to face her. "What part of me is a broken vase, birdie?" His tone was light, but the glint in his eyes suggested he was savoring every word she spoke.

Arabella answered without missing a beat. "A broken vase that keeps getting glued back together," she replied coolly. "Ariel once told me that humans are like vases, broken, healed, and then shattered so many times that the pieces turn to dust. Nothing left to fix, not even with glue."

Cassius chuckled, the sound dark and teasing. "Oh, I’m no fragile vase, darling," he drawled, eyes narrowing as if the idea amused him. "If I’ve been shattered, ground to dust, I assure you, I would still make a rather fine poison."

His smirk deepened as he leaned in, eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. "So, tell me, birdie. Do you still think glue is what’s holding me together, or is it something far more... insidious?"

Arabella rolled her eyes at his self-importance. "Your glue? Must be the ambition to survive," she muttered under her breath. Funny, she was also trying to survive, trapped in a game far more dangerous than she ever imagined.

She decided to shift the conversation. "I spoke with Queen Morgana today," she said, her tone casual, though Cassius immediately picked up on the change. He gave a languid nod, letting her lead.

"So?" he asked, his voice a low murmur like he was toying with her.

"Aren’t you worried I might side with her?" Arabella asked, tilting her head as if daring him to show any hint of concern.

Cassius let out a soft laugh as if the idea was absurd. "Birdie," he said with a smirk, "if you hurt me, do you think I’d look hurt... or would I laugh?"

Arabella crossed her arms, watching him carefully. "I suppose you’d laugh," she muttered, trying to mask the unease crawling up her spine.

Cassius’ smile turned sharp, and his eyes gleamed with a wicked amusement. "Oh, not just laugh," he said, his voice turning dangerously smooth. "I’d be delighted. Finally, a betrayal worthy of my attention." He stretched lazily as if basking in the very thought. "Most treachery is so... tedious. Poison in a cup, daggers in the dark, so predictable. But you?" His gaze darkened slightly, lips curling. "If you did it? Now, that would be... poetic."

Arabella swallowed hard, her mind racing. Would she ever stab him? She didn’t plan to, but the thought lingered, unsettling her more than it should. Would survival drive her to it one day? Could she do it?

She focused, and determined to keep control of the conversation. "I didn’t take her offer," she said, her voice firm as she pressed a vial of herbal medicine against his skin. She could hear him sigh softly in response, his usual arrogance slipping just slightly.

Cassius raised an eyebrow, his voice casual, though there was a knowing edge beneath it. "I see. Good?" he asked, clearly uninterested. "What? Did you wish for me to praise you? How adorable," he teased, a playful yet mocking edge in his tone. "Little birdie, acting so cute."

Arabella nearly choked on her breath, disgust flooding her. "You have a fine imagination, Your Highness," she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

She paused for a moment, then asked the question that had been nagging her. "So, this isn’t the first time the Queen’s tried to turn someone close to you against you?" Arabella couldn’t help but notice the unsettling nonchalance in his demeanor, like someone who had been through enough treachery to expect it as inevitable.

Cassius’ smile didn’t fade. "Of course not," he said, his voice smooth. "She asked Renard once. He drew a blade across her neck. But you, you, what did you do instead?" He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Right, I’m far more interested in hearing what you did to her."

Arabella’s eyes narrowed, her resolve firm. "I did nothing," she replied, her voice clear and unwavering.

Cassius studied her for a moment, his grin widening. "Nothing?" He let the word hang in the air, clearly amused by the contradiction. Arabella had a sharp tongue, always quick to retort. To remain silent was... simply impossible.

"I... ahem... said nothing," she corrected herself, quickly closing the vial and rising to her feet. She turned away, trying to hide the small tremor in her hands as she packed away the medicine into its box. She was thinking if she should give it back to Karnala but wanted to keep it for herself in case something happened when suddenly Cassius turned around, his bathrobe still loose, around his waist, allowing her to take a good look at his entire upper half body and the vein that crawled as it dipped into his inner thighs.

Arabella’s breath caught in her throat at the unexpected sight, her gaze involuntarily tracing the curve of his muscles, the way the bathrobe hung precariously around his waist, barely concealing the chiseled line of his torso. Her eyes flickered, unable to escape the view before she forced herself to look away.

The veins on his arms and chest seemed to pulse beneath his skin, reminding her of the predator that he was, the dangerous, intoxicating allure of him. The room suddenly felt smaller, suffocating, as if the very air had thickened with unspoken tension. She didn’t want to look lower from his hips but these eyes of hers couldn’t seem to control themselves much to her annoyance.

She could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks, her heart racing as her thoughts scattered, trying to find some semblance of control. But Cassius was still watching her, his gaze keen, his lips curled into that knowing smirk.

"See something you like?" His voice was laced with teasing, but there was an edge to it, something sharper beneath the casualness.

Arabella swallowed hard, her fingers still gripping the box a little too tightly. She quickly composed herself, turning to face him again, the mask of composure slipping back into place.

"I... I wasn’t staring," she managed, though her voice felt unsteady. "I was simply... trying to figure out how to..." Her words trailed off, her thoughts losing their clarity under his piercing gaze.

Cassius raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by her discomfort. "Trying to figure out how to what, Arabella?" he asked, his tone dangerously sweet. "Go on, I’m curious."

She bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of flustering her further, "How to stab you!"

"Just take the sword and push it, is it so difficult?" He smirked his crimson lips while she stared back at him with a speechless face.

"One day I will," she answered in a mutter, turning away, "Dress yourself properly or you will get a cold. You can’t get ill and suddenly forget the promise you made me."

"Promise I made- oh- your sister," he hummed as he pulled his bathrobe, "Well I do remember about it."

"Clearly."

"Sh," he shushed her noisy lips, "It would be difficult to do it as soon as possible. A few guests will be arriving at the castle tomorrow."

"Guests?" she turned, intrigued this time. The more guests, the more people, the easier for her to escape right? "Who?"

"You will see," Cassius murmured as he pushed himself up from the couch, his movements fluid, and effortless. He strode toward the wardrobe, pulling out a black tunic, and without hesitation, began to strip.

Arabella instantly turned her gaze to the fireplace, her eyes darting over the flickering flames, counting them as if they were the most fascinating thing in the room.

He chuckled at her reaction, the sound rich with amusement. But as he slipped the tunic over his head, something shifted in his expression. His smirk faded slightly, his thoughts darkening. His mind drifted back to the conversation, the new guests, the shifting tensions in court, the ever present scent of treachery in the air.

For a moment, he almost warned her. Almost told her to tread carefully, to keep her wits sharp.

His fingers twitched at his side. His jaw eased, just slightly. "Arabella—" The way he said her name was different. Not a command, not a taunt. A warning. A rare, unguarded hesitation.

Then something in his eyes shifted. As if he had stepped too close to an edge and suddenly realized how far the drop was.

His expression snapped shut, his tone slicing through the moment like a blade.

"Don’t fall prey to something foolish." The words came cold and final, severing whatever had almost been. He exhaled sharply, straightening as if discarding the weight of something unseen.

"Forget it," he said, brisk and curt now. "Just remember your place. Don’t be naive enough to think I will always be there to protect you."

Arabella stiffened, her fingers tightening around the medicine box in her hands.

A moment ago, his voice had nearly sounded like concern. Like something else. But now, it was a wall. A locked door slammed in her face.

It wasn’t just a warning. It was deliberate like a push.

Arabella turned her face toward him and was going to argue how he had said he would protect her but after thinking how much he had been courting death perhaps Cassius wasn’t entirely wrong. But somehow his attitude and the way he warned her not to always believe he would be there to protect her felt as if he was drawing a clear line. A clear boundary between a pet and her master and that added a bitter taste to her mouth.

She thought he had gotten back to normal but maybe that was just her imagination...

"I won’t," she answered firmly and he looked at her with a lasting glance before moving toward the bed. The night sunk and the next morning carriages had arrived the first thing in the earliest morning.

A lady walked out of the carriage accompanied by her young son and then a young lady with flowers adorning the crown of her head as she held the hand of the servant while she stepped down from the carriage.

Then there was Cassius and the King in front of the carriage, greeting his aunt Genevieve, Lucien, and Adele.

Adele, the young lady with the bright blonde hair rushed toward Cassius, her hands wide as she pulled Cassius into her embrace while her smile widened from one ear to another, "Cousin Cassius, I have been eagerly waiting to see you again. Have you missed me?"