Chapter 277: Certified freak, seven days a week
Words : 1934
Updated : Oct 5th, 2025
Chapter 277: Certified freak, seven days a week
Cass thought it would be too hard to focus on just the letters before him because his mind would be wandering to whatever the hell was happening between Edgar and Lord Ridgewood. He thought he would be twitching, itchy to witness two grown men pine for each other.
He was wrong.
He forgot to remember how entitled, ballzy, and rude the noble class here were. Correction, the noble class anywhere. Not that Cass had met any in his own world, but hey, he felt that wasn’t a terrible generalization to make.
So he wasn’t twitching in his seat because he was thinking about what kind of mess Edgar and Lord Ridgewood were getting into. He was twitching because he wanted to reach through the letters and punch the people who wrote them in the face.
There were a few, as if the idiots hadn’t learned their lesson, that were written by someone else. They weren’t written by the people who were supposed to write them. Cass didn’t burn the letters like he wanted to. Instead, he had Sir Forsythe help him by organising the letters into groups.
The first one was the group for letters that were written by people who didn’t fucking get it. The second group was for people who had hand written the letter, but were still not apologetic in the slightest. The third group was the smallest group, and it was for handwritten letters that had actual apologies in it.
None of these were groups that Cass was forgiving, or but the third group was a good start. Even if there were only like, three letters in the group so far.
Cass was so focused, filled with distaste that he nearly jumped out of his pants when there was a knock on the door.
Cass had almost cut himself with the letter opener, and instead had just pricked his finger. He stuck it into his mouth, sucking on the blood as he sighed.
"Come in." Cass called and Edgar pushed open the door. He looked apologetic, until his nostrils flared and he blinked a few times.
"Did you cut yourself?" He asked, worried as he crossed the floor quickly to come to his side. Cass stared at him, surprised at how quickly he came over. He gently tugged on Cass’ finger, pulling it out of his mouth. He was frowning, looking upset as he stared at the well of blood on his pointer finger. "This isn’t going to bode well. Which letter did you cut yourself on?" He asked, and Sir Forsythe reached over from Cass’ other side and handed over the letter.
Edgar frowned deeper when he saw who the sender was before he handed back the letter to Sir Forsythe.
"Can you put that in the reject pile? The serious one? A letter on which one cuts their finger on is never a good one. Spells bad luck." Edgar said seriously and Cass honestly was shocked. The man believed in superstitions like that? It was simply an accident.
"Edgar, I jumped. The letter had nothing to do with it." Cass told him softly and Edgar tsked. He shook his head, sighing heavily.
"Cass, Cass, Cass. Trust me. I am the expert in strange and odd things between us, aren’t I?" Edgar said, his eyes teasing.
Cass took the second, the moment to scan him. He’d moved so quickly that Cass hadn’t been able to gauge how the man was doing. Edgar didn’t look too different from how he had looked when he left Cass in the foyer. His clothing was put on properly, his hair was smooth, normal. His eyes weren’t the bright, glowing colour of the beast within, and his lips weren’t...swollen.
Then again, the man healed quickly, so if they had gone at it his lips could have already healed from any puffiness or damage. Lord Ridgewood struck him as the kind of man that once he let the reins slip, all hell broke loose.
So, outwardly, the man hadn’t changed. Hadn’t shifted. But Cass could tell that something had changed. He seemed...lighter. Whatever had happened, Edgar had gotten something off of his chest, and it seemed to be for the better. Cass was glad to see it, and Edgar noticed how Cass was examining him.
Edgar’s lips turned up slightly, and he gave Cass’ hand a squeeze.
"Cass, don’t look at me like that. I’ll blush." He teased, batting his eyes quickly. Cass stared at the fluttery, flirty creature and knew that something truly had been lifted from his shoulders. Cass slid his gaze to Sir Forsythe, who gave Cass a pointed look before he nodded and headed for the door. He clearly didn’t want to give Cass and Edgar some privacy, but he was going to.
What a good knight Cass had by his side.
Edgar seemed slightly surprised that Sir Forsythe let them be alone, before Cass stared up at him. He reached up, now without any other witnesses, and took Edgar’s chin in his hand. He twisted his face from side to side, tilting his head back to look at his throat and under it. Edgar let out a laugh.
"What are you looking for? Gideon isn’t a vampire like me, Cass." Edgar teased. Cass huffed.
"He could have left a mark like one, though." Cass muttered quietly and watched as Edgar’s face went red.
"I-You-Cassian Blackburn! What in the gods name were you thinking was going to happen when I went to go speak with Gideon?" Edgar asked and Cass felt his lips thin. If what he thought hadn’t happened, he wasn’t sure if he wanted Edgar to know what he’d thought.
He’d be branded as a pervert, or worse. A weirdo.
Both were bad labels, but he really didn’t want to be known as a perverted weirdo. That had never boded well for anyone who had it attached to them. He’d seen how his sister had suffered. He didn’t want the label.
But, judging from how Edgar was looking at him right now, he might already have it in someone’s eyes.
Cass closed his eyes, feeling ill. This was just...one thing after another.
"I...I feel like I thought about reasonable things given the situation and what I witnessed prior to you two talking to each other." Cass mumbled. He wasn’t much of a mumbler, but hell, he wanted Edgar to hear as few of his words as possible.
The chair creaked as Edgar leaned in, putting his weight on the chair as he put his hand down on the armrest. Cass made a face, dropping his hand from Edgar’s chin as the man narrowed his gaze, watching Cass.
"That’s not at all a reasonable explanation. What were you thinking Gideon and I were getting up to, Cass? Don’t lie, or try to divert attention. I’m sensing that it was something completely inappropriate and I want to know what kind." Edgar said, and Cass gulped. Edgar was still holding his finger, and Cass was worried the blood droplet on his finger was going to fall, staining his clothes, or Edgar’s.
Edgar’s gaze slid to the finger in his hand, before they slid back to Cass. His eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled and Cass felt his body shiver as his fangs descended.
"May I, Cass? We wouldn’t want to waste it." Edgar asked softly and Cass gulped air into his lungs and nodded. Hoping it was enough of a distraction to get Edgar off of his back.
Cass was so horribly, mistakenly wrong with his thought. He forgot that Edgar was a freak, and the man didn’t just stick Cass’ finger into his mouth. No, he stuck his tongue out, licking the whole length of Cass’ finger before he rubbed his fangs against his skin.
Cass shivered, watching the man with an open, shocked mouth as he swirled his tongue around the tip of his finger before sinking it into his mouth. Cass wasn’t sure what the sound that left his mouth was, but it certainly didn’t sound appropriate.
Edgar’s gaze was smug, satisfied as he sucked on Cass’ fingers, the hard pulls he made with his mouth making Cass wiggle in his chair, uncomfortable.
Edgar’s blue eyes were glowing lightly, softly. Cass knew it had to be because of the blood, but fuck. Cass had never felt this...he didn’t even know what he was really feeling.
Edgar’s mouth let go of Cass’ finger with a loud ’smack!’. The sound filled the air, along with Cass’ heavy breathing. Edgar chuckled, licking his lips as he slid his gaze to Cass.
"Was it something like this?" Edgar asked softly, and Cass couldn’t speak. He was tongue tied as Edgar ran his tongue over his fangs, before he realised what he was doing and how Cass was reacting. Cass couldn’t take his eyes off of the movement. His smug smile grew. "You like my fangs, hmm? I had no idea. I thought you liked it when I looked a little more human, Cass. I didn’t know you were a pervert." Cass winced, closing his eyes tightly so he didn’t have to look at the man.
Edgar laughed softly at Cass trying to escape the situation. Cass flinched as Edgar’s hand on the armrest slid to Cass’, his fingers playing gently with the skin hidden by his jacket sleeve. The man was just using his fingers, but the way he was touching his wrist, the gentle seduction...Cass had never been pursued like this before. Never.
Lucian wasn’t like this. He was trying to be seductive, but he was brash. Bold. Edgar? Slippery like a damn snake. Cass felt like with only a few words from him he’d be so tongue tied he would agree to whatever the man wanted. Suggested.
Damnit! This was not going the way he thought it would! He thought they would have sat down with some tea or something and chatted about everything. He didn’t think the man would try to seduce him as soon as he had him behind closed doors! Especially after just coming back from dealing with Lord Ridgewood!
"Hmm. I should have noticed it earlier. You do tend to freeze up as soon as Lucy goes dragon on you." Cass made a squeak. He really hadn’t wanted Edgar to notice that. Edgar’s fingers paused, before a deep, worrying chuckle filled the air. "Baby, you’re being too cute. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?" Edgar’s breath fanned Cass’ face. He expected it to smell bad, but instead it smelt...fresh? Good?
Edgar’s lips brushed against Cass’ ear and Cass flinched.
"Do you know how you were looking at my fangs, Cass?" Cass shook beneath him. He gave a quick, fast headshake and Edgar laughed. Cass could feel how his lips turned up against his ear. "Like you were thinking about how they would feel against your skin." Edgar whispered and Cass shuddered. It was a whole body thing. He couldn’t help it.
As soon as Edgar said it, Cass couldn’t get the reality of the situation out of his mind. He’d been thinking about it as soon as a blooddrop formed on his finger. As soon as he realised it was Edgar at the door, and not someone else. Edgar wasn’t wrong, he had been thinking about it, but in a clinical kind of way.
Not...this. Not this sultry, seductive way. He wanted to cry. Were all vampires like this? Too damn sexy for their own good?
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