***Rox’s Dreams that Night***

The dream unfolded vividly, intoxicating and raw. I was in Cassian’s room at the pack house, the space dimly lit and charged with an energy that left my skin tingling. He had snuck me in under the cover of night, locking the door behind him with a quiet finality.

He reached for my hand, his grip firm yet gentle, guiding me toward the massive bed that seemed to dominate the room. I turned to face him as he stopped, his hands sliding around my waist with deliberate possessiveness. His eyes, deep and electric blue, locked onto mine, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Rox,” he murmured, his voice husky, “you’re mine.”

Before I could reply, his strong hands gripped my thighs, lifting me effortlessly. A gasp escaped my lips as he carried me to the bed, laying me down as though I were something precious. His movements were unhurried yet purposeful, every touch igniting a fire under my skin.

I wore nothing but his oversized shirt, the fabric brushing softly against my bare body. His gaze swept over me, heated and unrelenting. Slowly, he climbed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, grounding me in the moment.

Cassian lifted the shirt, revealing my nakedness to him. The air between us thickened as his hand traced a path up my thigh, his touch firm and teasing. I squirmed under him, but he pinned me with his intense gaze, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with restraint, “and all mine.”

My breathing hitched as he lowered himself, his lips brushing against mine, teasing and exploring but never fully committing. His hands roamed my body, claiming every curve with reverent dominance.

He tangled his fingers in my hair, gripping gently but firmly, forcing my gaze to meet his. My body arched into him, a moan escaping as he pushed deeper, his breath hot against my ear.

“You feel incredible,” he grunted, the words barely audible but searing against my skin.

Our lips brushed, each touch sparking electric heat that coursed through me. His rhythm was commanding yet intoxicatingly slow, as though he was savoring every moment. I gasped against his mouth, my nails digging into his back, desperate for more.

The sound of his deep groans, the feel of his lips brushing mine, the way his body moved against me—it consumed every part of me, pushing me to the edge of reason.

Just as I felt myself giving in completely, my alarm blared, pulling me from the haze.

I shot upright, gasping, my heart pounding as if I had truly been in his arms. My skin was flushed, and I pressed my hands to my face, trying to shake off the vividness of it all.

‘What the hell was that?’ I thought, my body still trembling with the remnants of the dream.