Chapter 122: Entangled in Fantasy.

Chapter 122: Entangled in Fantasy.
Connie POV

“I—my childhood wasn’t… look, it doesn’t matter. I just learned real fast that if I didn’t claw my way to the top, I’d be stomped on. So I do what I need to. I guess Adam sees it as manipulation, but it’s survival for me.” I wiped my cheeks, letting my voice quiver. He studied my face, lips curving in a half-smile tinged with faint sympathy. 

“Maybe you should’ve learned how to be less savage with your claws, hmm?” he teased gently, a flicker of humor in his gaze.

“Too late for that,” I whispered. “I’m just… no one else has stood up for me, you know?” I let out a watery laugh. He shrugged, his golden eyes flicking up at me. Even in the low lamplight, they were intense. 

“I’m a sucker for lost causes,” he replied, deadpan, then followed it with a small, cocky grin. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you owe me now.”

“Owe you?” A small jolt of alarm tugged my stomach. Chase made a mocking show of thought, tapping his chin. “I keep you alive, you feed me… cookies.”

“Cookies.”

“Yeah, I heard you bake a mean triple-chocolate.” 

“Maybe I can manage that.” I couldn’t help but laugh despite my tears. He winked, shifting slightly so his weight pressed me closer. The heat of his body was disconcerting. It made me feel… wanted. More than that, it made me want him. My mind drifted momentarily, imagining how easily I could sink deeper into that warmth—taste those lips if I angled just so.

“Chase,” I said, swallowing thickly, “why… why did you do it? Defend me, I mean. Everybody thinks I’m this evil bitch..” His eyebrow flicked up. 

“Maybe you are,” he said lightly, “but I’m a glutton for punishment.” He grinned, but his voice had an undercurrent of sincerity that made my pulse flutter. “Sometimes, we all need somebody in our corner, even if we don’t deserve it.” His words struck me deeper than I wanted to admit. I exhaled slowly. 

“I never had that,” I confessed. “Somebody, I mean. I grew up in a rough place—people only cared about my last name, or what I could do for them. No one ever told me they were proud of me. I had to snatch every tiny victory by myself.”

His expression softened. I recognized pity there, and oddly, it didn’t anger me the way I usually hated pity. Maybe because it was coming from someone powerful, someone who’d seen me at my worst and still bothered to slip an arm around my waist.

The silence lengthened, a pocket of time where the only sound was my own unsteady breathing. Then, Chase lightly ruffled my hair. 

“Cheer up, cupcake,” he declared with an easy smirk, “I’ve seen you do more than just survive. You got spunk. Or maybe that’s mischief.”

“I prefer ambition.” I sniffled, a cautious smile working its way onto my lips. 

“Alright, ambition then. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m underestimating you.” He chuckled, the sound low and warm. I found myself leaning against him, relaxing into the solid line of his chest. The tears had dried on my cheeks, though the aftershocks of fear still lurked in my chest. 

For a moment, I allowed the solace of his closeness, ignoring the voice in my head that said he might be luring me into a false sense of security. I was good at stirring illusions, but maybe he was better.

His wolf—I could almost feel him behind Chase’s eyes. It was like a warm presence that flared whenever I touched him. The sense of that canine spirit prowled at the edges of my awareness, making my pulse flutter. No matter how my mind tried to be strategic, my body responded with real, potent attraction.

Finally, I met his gaze, tears threatening to well up again, though this time they felt more manipulative than genuine. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked quietly, letting that note of vulnerability seep in. He studied my face. Then he gave me a lazy, disarming grin. 

“Because you’re sad all the time, and I can’t stand it. I figure I could at least make you laugh, maybe lighten the load.” The sincerity behind his playful tone snared me. 

“You do make me laugh, more than I thought possible. But… why do you want to?” My voice dropped to a whisper. Chase leaned in, so close his breath feathered my cheek, tinted with the faintest hint of mint. He paused, letting the silence throb between us. Then his lips twitched with that signature smirk.

“Because that makes me happy,” he replied softly. He reached up, brushing a stray hair from my forehead. “And I’m all about satisfying my own happiness, you know.” I felt something lodge in my throat, a surge of unexpected tenderness that threatened my carefully constructed walls. 

“So me being happier makes you happier?” I murmured, hating how desperate I sounded—yet unable to stop myself. He didn’t verbally confirm, but the way his eyes softened answered everything. My heart thumped with renewed force. If I played my cards right, maybe I could keep him tethered to me, keep him from turning to Lottie or anyone else. I sensed how his attentiveness might be a trap—for me or for him, I couldn’t tell. But that cunning voice in my head whispered that I might be able to use this.

I closed my eyes and let out a trembling breath. 

“Then stay,” I pleaded, batting my lashes in an overt display of vulnerability. “I don’t want to be alone right now. I’m… scared Adam might come back.” His lips curved into a half-smile. 

“I’ll stay,” he promised, brushing a thumb over my cheek. “Until you’re not scared anymore.” Despite myself, I relaxed, letting my head nestle against his shoulder. Downstairs, I could still faintly hear the murmurs of voices, but for the first time in a while, I felt like I had some measure of control. 

If Chase was truly staying, if I could keep stoking his protectiveness… maybe it would be enough to secure me a future in this house—one free from Adam’s rage and the twin’s rejections.

Yes, I thought, inhaling the comforting aroma of the man who had so unexpectedly championed me. He might think it was his own idea to protect me. But I knew better: I had a knack for turning illusions into reality. And this time, I planned to make it permanent.

Yet a part of me—a tiny, traitorous spark—wondered if I actually wanted more than illusions. If I yearned for something… real. But I shoved that thought deep down, focusing on the warmth of Chase’s presence.

Perhaps I’d find out soon enough if he truly cared… or if we were both just dancing in a make-believe.