CHAPTER 46: THE PICTURE

They stayed until his breathing evened out.

Long after Cassian’s tears had dried and his trembling had stilled, Leonel and Aiden remained kneeling on the floor beside the bed, shoulders touching, watching over him like silent sentinels. When Cassian finally drifted off, exhausted and hollow, Leonel carefully lifted him onto the mattress, pulling the blanket over his shoulders. Aiden turned off the lamp, leaving only the soft glow of streetlight through the curtains.

For a long moment, they stood there, side by side, staring at Cassian’s sleeping face pale, bruised, peaceful only in the absence of wakefulness.

"He’s not okay," Aiden whispered.

Leonel didn’t answer. He just reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Cassian’s forehead. "I know."

They lingered a while longer, as if their presence alone could keep the nightmares away. Only when Cassian’s breath grew deep and steady did they finally step back.

"Let’s go," Leonel murmured.

They left the door slightly ajar just enough to hear if he stirred and retreated to their own rooms down the hall. But neither slept. They stood in the dim hallway for a long time, arms crossed, eyes tired, hearts heavy with questions they couldn’t ask.

Who was Lucian, really?

Why did Cassian flinch like he’d been broken long before tonight?

And what had happened in that room that left a mark shaped like fingers on his throat?

They had no answers.

Only fear.

---

Morning came softly.

Cassian woke to the distant clatter of pans and the rich scent of coffee drifting under his door. For a moment, he lay still, half-expecting the dread to crash over him again. But the room was quiet. Safe. The bruise on his neck ached faintly, but it was hidden. Covered. Forgotten, for now.

He took a slow breath. Then another.

He got up.

When he walked into the kitchen, he found Aiden flipping pancakes at the stove while Leonel poured orange juice into three glasses. They moved around each other with easy familiarity, Aiden reaching for the syrup just as Leonel set down the plates, their shoulders brushing without a word.

They looked up when he entered.

"Morning," Aiden said, offering a small, careful smile.

"How was your sleep?" Leonel asked, though his eyes said he already knew the answer.

Cassian nodded, forcing lightness into his voice. "Yeah. Better than I thought."

He didn’t mention the nightmares. The way he’d woken gasping, hand flying to his neck, half-expecting Lucian’s grip to still be there.

Aiden slid a plate toward him. "Pancakes. Slightly burnt, but edible."

Leonel handed him the high-neck black shirt folded neatly on the counter. "Thought you might want this."

Cassian took it, fingers brushing the soft fabric. He didn’t say thank you just gave a small, grateful nod. They understood.

he sat down they had the pancakes while doing small talk and none of them mentioned the last night after that cassian stood up, grabbing the black shirt .

"I’ll go have a bath," he said softly. "Be right back."

They watched him go, their smiles fading the moment the bathroom door clicked shut.

Because they knew.

He was trying to be okay.

But he wasn’t.

And they had no idea how to fix it.

Then """" ding-dong.

The doorbell.

Both men tensed.

"It’s 8 a.m.," Aiden said, frowning. "Who the hell...?"

Leonel stood. "Stay here."

But Aiden was already moving. "It’s fine. Probably just a delivery."

He opened the front gate and found a small, plain brown parcel on the step. No logo. No return address. Just one word written neatly in black ink on the front:

"Cassian."

Aiden’s stomach dropped.

He carried it inside, holding it like it might explode. "You order something for him?" he asked Leonel.

Leonel shook his head. "No."

They exchanged a look. Last night’s terror was still raw the blood on Lucian’s head, Cassian vanishing, the bruise on his throat.

Aiden turned the parcel over in his hands. "What if it’s from him? What if it’s dangerous?"

Leonel’s jaw tightened. "Maybe we shouldn’t touch it."

But Aiden’s curiosity warred with his fear. "If it’s a threat, we need to know."

Leonel exhaled sharply. "...Open it. Carefully."

Aiden peeled back the tape. Inside was a single, aged photograph.

He pulled it out and froze.

Two young men stood outside what appeared to be a university dorm. One had his arm slung possessively around the other’s shoulders, smirking with that same chilling confidence Lucian wore like armor. But his face... it wasn’t Lucian’s. Not exactly. Younger. Softer. Yet undeniably the same eyes, the same cruel tilt of the lips.

And the other boy-

Aiden’s breath caught.

He looked like Cassian. But not quite. Sharper features. Longer hair. A leather jacket. But the eyes, those eyes were unmistakable.

On the back, in elegant cursive:

"Don’t forget my love, dear. – Daniel."

Aiden flipped it over again. "That’s not him... but it is."

Leonel took the photo, his expression darkening. "Who’s Daniel?"

"I don’t know anyone by that name," Aiden said, voice tight. "Maybe it’s a sick prank?"

But Leonel’s voice was low, unsettled. "It doesn’t feel like a prank."

Aiden nodded slowly, dread pooling in his chest. "Then who the hell is Daniel?"

on the other hand, with Cassian

The water was hot, almost scalding. Cassian stood under the spray until his skin turned pink, scrubbing his arms, his neck, his face as if he could wash away Lucian’s touch, his voice, the name Elliot echoing in his skull. When he finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, he felt... lighter not healed. But steadier.

He pulled on the high-neck shirt Leonel had given him. It hid the bruise completely. Good.

He took a breath. Today, I act normal.

But the moment he stepped into the living room, he knew something was wrong.

Aiden and Leonel stood frozen in the center of the room, staring at something in Aiden’s hands. Their postures were rigid.

Before they could say anything to each other

Cassian stepped forward, towel over his shoulder . He looked calmer, paler, but steadier.

then he saw...

Saw the photo in Leonel’s hand.

His breath stopped.

"What are you guys doing?" he asked, voice thin.

Aiden turned, guilt flashing across his features. "Cassian... we got this package."

He held out the photograph.

Cassian took it.

One look and his world shattered.