Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

“Kai want to pway…”

“Mama,” he sniffled, his small voice breaking, “Kai pway pwaygwound… pleeeath…”

Cassie bit down on her lip, hard, fighting the sob that threatened to tear its way out of her chest. Seeing her son’s tear–drenched face–his lashes clumped together, his tiny body shuddering with hiccupping breaths–nearly undid her.

“It’s late, sweetheart,” she whispered, pulling him against her chest and beginning to sway gently from side to side while he continue with his soft hiccuping breaths.

“You need to rest now. Sleep, my love”

She pressed her cheek to his hair, breathing in his familiar scent as her arms tightened around him. “Mama loves you so much,” she murmured, her voice trembling despite her efforts to steady it.” Mama will do better next time. I’m sorry… I’m sorry Mama is being unreasonable.”

Her eyes burned. Tears gathered no matter how fiercely she blinked, spilling down her cheeks.

“Yeth,” Kai sniffed, his sad, tearful voice slicing straight through her heart. “You aww unwethonabole, Mama.”

The word–innocent, unfiltered–hurt more than any accusation ever could.

Cassie continued to sway him, slow and rhythmic, even as her chest ached with everything she couldn’t explain and everything she was too afraid to admit. No words came. There were none that could undo the disappointment she had placed in his small hands.

Gradually, his breathing evened out. His grip on her shirt loosened. Exhaustion claimed him, dragging him into sleep while tear tracks still stained his cheeks.

Yet even after his weight went slack against her, the echoes of his tantrum lingered in the room- the broken sobs, the trembling of his lip, the way his little body had gone rigid when she said no.

Worst of all was the look he’d given her. As if she had taken something precious from him—and refused to give it back.

“You can’t cage Kai for his entire life, Cassie,” Drie insisted, his voice low but unyielding. There was restraint in it, but also quiet frustration.

“He’s growing up. Sooner or later, he’ll start asking why he isn’t allowed to run outside and play like the other children.”

“I can’t take that chance, Drie,” Cassie whispered.

She reached for Kai’s tiny hand, tracing slow, absentminded circles over his fingers, as if grounding herself through his warmth. His skin was soft, trusting. The guilt settled heavier in her chest, sharp and unrelenting, fueled by the memory of the hurt in her son’s eyes.

Chapter 271

+25 BONUS

Drie exhaled, dragging a hand over his face before speaking again, forcing calm into his tone.

“Running into Kai’s father a month ago was nothing more than coincidence. There was a business convention in that city–people from neighboring countries were everywhere. That’s all it was.‘

He met her gaze steadily.

“You can’t let fear dictate Kai’s entire childhood.”

Cassie said nothing, her grip on Kai tightening ever so slightly.

“And honestly,” Drie continued, his lips twitching despite the seriousness of the moment, “why do you even care about what people might say about who Kai looks like?”

He tilted his head, a playful glint slipping into his eyes. “Even if we were truly married and had children of our own, I don’t expect all of them to look like me. No one will know Kai isn’t my son. We’re both handsome–clearly genetics are on our side. That’s what’s important.”

Cassie scoffed softly.

“Silly,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Her fingers gentled as she brushed through Kai’s hair, slow and protective, watching his sleeping face soften in the dim light. For a brief moment, with his breathing even and his hand curled around hers, the world felt quiet–almost safe.

“You have a resolute brilliance, Cassie,” Drie said, shaking his head with a mix of admiration and frustration, “but the moment Kai is involved, you abandon reason entirely.”

Her throat tightened.

“I’m scared, Drie. Kai is all I have.”

She drew in a rough, unsteady breath before lifting her gaze to meet his. There was no defiance in her eyes now–only fear laid bare, raw and unguarded.

“But you can’t raise him this way,” Drie replied quietly, the edge in his voice sharpening with sincerity. “He’s just a child. He shouldn’t have to carry the weight of your fears.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice as if afraid to break something fragile.

“He needs a normal childhood, Cassie. Like every other child. He needs scraped knees and laughter, grass stains and freedom.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify