Clara tilted her head slightly, fingers still loosely entwined with Wren's, her gaze drifting—thoughtful, amused—toward the space between Cassian and Avery.
"I really thought," she said gently, "that the two of you would be the ones marrying each other."
The room stilled for half a second.
Then—
"Oh, absolutely," Mia chimed in without hesitation, eyes lighting up. "Same. I even started saving for a dress."
She looked entirely serious about it.
"A good one, too," she added. "Custom. Elegant. Something dramatic enough to survive standing next to both of them."
Rick sputtered into his drink. "You were what?"
Mason barked out a laugh, leaning forward. "You're telling me you planned their wedding before mine?"
"It was hypothetical," Mia waved him off. "But very convincing."
Jurian blinked, then smiled sheepishly. "Honestly… I thought they were a couple too when I first came here."
Mason, reaching for the snack bowl, finally unwrapped his arm from around Jury to grab a handful. The pressure at Jury's side eased, just a little, and he exhaled without realizing it.
"I mean," Jurian continued comfortably now, emboldened by the lack of immediate alpha weight, "they sit next to each other like they've been doing it for years. They argue like an old married couple. And Avery terrifies people into submission on Cassian's behalf."
"That's loyality," Avery said coolly.
"That's marriage," Mia countered instantly.
Clara nodded in agreement. "The emotional kind."
Avery set his glass down with deliberate care.
"My standards," he said firmly, "are far too high."
Cassian turned his head slowly. "Please. I wouldn't marry this arrogant bastard even if the world ended."
Avery arched a brow. "As if you'd survive long enough to propose."
Cassian scoffed. "I'd rather rule the ashes."
"And I'd rule you," Avery replied calmly.
There was a beat.
Then the room exploded with laughter.
Rick nearly fell off the couch. "You see? This. This is why people think you're together."
Mason wiped his eyes. "I swear, if either of you ever actually marry someone else, I'll feel bad for their spouse."
Wren, ever composed, merely commented, "They would need patience."
"Or immunity," Mia added cheerfully.
Cassian leaned back, unbothered, swirling the last of his drink. "Speculation is pointless."
Avery glanced at him sideways. "he can't be patient with someone".
Their eyes met briefly—sharp, familiar, unyielding.
Jurian watched them, thoughtful now.
Whatever they were, it wasn't romance.
But it was something solid. Something rare. A pure friendship.
Mia clapped her hands once, reclaiming attention. "Alright, enough matchmaking fantasies. This was supposed to be a relaxing night."
Rick raised his glass again. "To relaxing nights that turn into ambushes."
Then Mia decide to throw another bomb.
Mia leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees, eyes glinting with unmistakable mischief. One brow lifted—slow, knowing.
"So," she said lightly, dragging the word just enough to be dangerous, "I heard you fell in love with an omega at first sight."
The room went quiet for exactly one second.
Not shocked. Not awkward. Just… expectant.
Cassian didn't stiffen. Didn't deny it. He merely took another sip of his drink, posture loose in a way that fooled no one.
Clara smoothly picked up where Mia left off, voice gentle but precise. "And you've been looking for him for seven months."
Jurian tilted his head, curiosity open and unguarded. "Got any leads?"
The omegas laughed softly together—not mocking, not cruel. Warm. Familiar. The kind of laughter that wrapped around a subject instead of cutting into it.
Cassian exhaled through his nose, something almost like a chuckle. "No leads."
He didn't refute a single word.
Mason glanced around at his alpha friends, then smirked.
"You know," he said casually, "we're lucky to have our wives right here with us."
His gaze flicked briefly toward Cassian.
"Not like someone whose omega apparently doesn't know he exist."
Rick let out a low whistle.
Wren hid a smile behind his glass.
The omegas exchanged amused looks.
Cassian scoffed, unbothered. "Careful," he said coolly. "Luck has a habit of changing."
Mia waved that away. "Don't change the subject. Cassian, do you have a photo? If we've seen him, maybe we know something."
Cassian shook his head once. "No photos."
That caught their attention.
"All video surveillance from the banquet was deleted," he continued evenly. "Every angle. Every backup."
Rick leaned forward, clearly enjoying this part. "Not just that. Any guest who tried to sneak a picture? Phone got hacked. Photos wiped clean."
Clara's eyes widened slightly. "All of them?"
"All of them," Rick confirmed proudly. "Clean slate."
Mason frowned. "That's… excessive."
"That's professional," Avery corrected calmly.
Jurian hugged a cushion closer. "It sounds unreal."
Mason tilted his head. "Like an illusion. The kind of beauty you doubt after seeing."
Clara nodded slowly. "Like a myth."
Cassian set his glass down.
"I had a portrait made."
Every eye snapped to him.
He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a slim folder, placing it on the table without ceremony.
Avery was the first to open it.
The room stilled.
The portrait wasn't flashy. No dramatic background. No exaggerated elegance.
Just—
Blonde hair caught mid-motion, like light itself had tangled in it. A calm expression, unreadable yet unafraid. And eyes.
Sky-colored. Clear. Endless.
For a moment, no one spoke.
"…Oh," Mia breathed.
Clara's hand lifted unconsciously to her chest. "He's—"
"Beautiful," Jurian finished softly.
Rick grinned, unable to hold it in. "Told you. Everyone who was there saw him."
He emphasized the word saw deliberately.
Because none of them had been there. Not his buddies Not Clara. Not Jurian.
Not even Rick's own wife—busy at the spa with her mother-in-law that day.
Avery closed the folder slowly, expression unreadable. "Now I understand."
Mia looked up sharply. "Understand what?"
Avery met Cassian's gaze. "Why you can't let this go."
Mia smiled suddenly, bright and resolute. "I want to meet him."
Clara nodded at once. "Me too."
Jurian followed, eyes gentle but firm. "Same."
Cassian leaned back, gaze drifting upward to the ceiling.
"…If I ever find him," he said quietly.
Somewhere deep inside him, the hollow ache stirred again—soft, persistent, shaped like a ghost with sky-colored eyes.
And for the first time—
He wondered what would happen when the illusion stepped fully into his world.