Chapter 46 Domestic Bliss and Shattered Illusions
Wynter's POV
I woke to Chase's arm tightening around my waist, pulling me back against his chest just as I tried to slip out of bed. His lips found the curve of my neck, pressing a sleepy kiss there that sent warmth pooling low in my belly.
"Where do you think you're going?" he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
"We have work to do," I reminded him, even as my rebellious body relaxed into his embrace. "Owen, remember?"
Instead of answering, he rolled me onto my back and pulled the blanket over both our heads, creating a cocoon of warmth and filtered morning light. In the intimate darkness, his golden eyes gleamed as he dipped his head to trail kisses along my throat, his lips grazing the edge of the bandage that covered my ruined Mark.
I let myself have one more moment—just one—before I placed my hands on his chest and pushed, injecting a playful lilt into my voice. "You said you wanted to help me investigate, remember? So get up already."
He sighed dramatically but rolled off me, and I slipped out of bed, reaching for my discarded clothes. I was just fastening my bra when I felt his gaze on me—heavy, intent. I glanced over my shoulder and found him watching me with an expression that made my breath catch, his eyes fixed on the bandage at the base of my neck.
"You know," he said quietly, "there's a much simpler solution to all of this."
I turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. "Oh? And what's that?"
He sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist, and patted the bed beside him with that dangerous half-smile I'd come to recognize. "Come here."
I crossed my arms. "Chase..."
"Just hear me out." Despite the seriousness of his words, there was a teasing glint in his golden eyes. "You're in pain every time we're apart. The Bond pulls at both of us constantly. So why don't you just bite me? Right now. Complete the Bond, and all of this goes away."
I let out a surprised laugh. "Just like that? Right now, before breakfast?"
"Why not?" He spread his hands, the picture of innocent inquiry. "No more aching. No more feeling like something's being torn out of your chest every time I leave the room." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "I promise I'll make it worth your while."
My wolf purred with approval, but I planted my hands on my hips, fighting the smile that threatened to break free. "You said you wanted to give me a ceremony. A choice, not just heat and instinct. So what happened to that? Getting impatient already?" I moved closer, reaching out to cup his face. "I thought Alpha Primes were supposed to have legendary self-control."
His eyes darkened with amusement. He caught my wrist gently, tugging me closer. "My self-control is just fine, thank you very much. It's my concern for your wellbeing that's suffering."
"Mm-hmm." I let my fingers trail down to his collarbone. "And this has nothing to do with the fact that you want to mark me as yours in every way possible?"
"Well," he admitted with a wicked grin, "maybe ten percent is about that."
"Ten percent," I repeated flatly.
"Fifteen, tops."
I laughed and pushed him back against the pillows, ducking away before he could grab me. "Nice try, Sterling. But I'm not biting you in your bedroom before we've even had coffee." I pulled my shirt over my head. "Besides, we have work to do. Owen, remember?"
He flopped back dramatically. "You're cruel. Absolutely heartless."
"You'll survive," I said dryly, then softened my voice. "And for the record? When I do bite you—and I will—it's going to be because I choose to. Not because you seduced me into it before breakfast."
He peeked at me from under his arm, vulnerability flickering across his face. "You mean that? The 'when,' not 'if'?"
I met his gaze steadily. "I mean it."
The smile that spread across his face was incandescent. "In that case, I suppose I can wait." He paused. "Even though my technique is absolutely flawless and you're missing out."
"Your technique could use some work," I shot back.
"Lies and slander," he muttered, grinning as he reached for his clothes.
I watched him dress, feeling something warm unfurl in my chest. This—the teasing, the easy back-and-forth—this felt right.
"Chase," I said quietly. "Thank you. For not pushing. For letting me choose."
He crossed to me, cupping my face in his hands. "Always," he said simply, and kissed my forehead with such tenderness it made my throat ache. Then that teasing glint returned. "But I reserve the right to make extremely compelling arguments in favor of biting me at every available opportunity."
I laughed despite myself. "Noted."
He studied me for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. "Move in with me."
I blinked. "What?"
"Move in with me," he repeated. "If you're living here, we won't be apart. The Bond won't pull as hard."
"Chase, I can't just—"
"Why not?" He took my hands in his. "Give me one good reason."
"Because it's too fast," I stammered. "We've barely been together a few weeks—"
"I don't care what people say. You're my mate, Wynter. I'm done pretending otherwise." Something almost sheepish crossed his face. "Besides, I already had everything prepared."
My heart did a traitorous flip. "You what?"
"When I went back to Silvermoon, I had the staff pick up a few things." He tugged me toward the bathroom. "I've been planning this for a while."
He opened the cabinet beneath the sink, and my breath caught.
Two of everything. Two toothbrushes—his in black, mine in soft lavender. His cedar-scented shampoo next to my honey-almond one, the expensive kind I'd mentioned once in passing. Lavender bath salts. Hair ties in my favorite shade of blue.
Each item was a tiny declaration that he'd been paying attention.
"Chase," I whispered, my throat tight.
He stepped behind me, arms wrapping around my waist. "I know you think I'm just some arrogant Alpha who's used to getting his way. But this isn't about control. This is about wanting to wake up next to you every morning. About building something that's ours."
I turned in his arms, looking up into those golden eyes. "You really thought this through, didn't you?"
"I've thought about nothing else since the moment I marked you," he admitted. "I know I rushed that. I know I took your choice away. But this—this is me asking, not taking."
My wolf sang with approval, and beneath all my caution, a small hopeful voice whispered that maybe I deserved this.
"Okay," I said softly, watching his eyes widen. "But on one condition—we still investigate Owen together. No more protecting me by keeping me in the dark. We're partners. Equals."
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "I wouldn't dream of treating you like anything less," he murmured, leaning down to brush his mouth against mine. "You're far too fierce for that."
---
An hour later, we were in the kitchen, morning sun streaming through the windows. Chase had insisted on making breakfast as I perched on the counter.
"You know," I said, swinging my legs idly, "you really don't fit the stereotype of a future Alpha. Cooking breakfast, buying matching toiletries... where's the ruthless warlord I was promised?"
He shot me an amused glance as he plated eggs. "Disappointed?"
"Pleasantly surprised."
He set the food aside and stepped between my knees, his hands coming to rest on my thighs. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmured, leaning in until his lips were a hairsbreadth from mine. "You, in my kitchen, looking at me like maybe you're starting to believe this could work."
"I'm trying," I whispered. "I swear I'm trying."
"I know." The tenderness in his voice made my throat tight. "And that's all I'm asking for."
He closed the distance, capturing my mouth in a kiss that quickly deepened. I wrapped my legs around his waist as his hands slid up my thighs, gripping my hips, the Bond flaring between us like wildfire.
A sharp knock cut through the haze.
We both froze.
The knock came again, followed by the unmistakable beep of someone entering a code into the lock.
Chase pulled back, his eyes narrowing. My heart dropped into my stomach as the implications registered—someone had the code to his private suite. Someone who felt entitled enough to walk in unannounced.
The door swung open.
Anne Kaine stood in the doorway, her perfect features arranged in shock and outrage. She was dressed immaculately as always, dark hair swept up in an elegant twist, designer clothes flawless. Behind her, Scarlett hovered with malicious curiosity in her eyes.
Anne's gaze swept over the scene—me perched on the counter with my legs wrapped around Chase, his hands still gripping my hips, the breakfast cooling on the stove—and her expression twisted into something ugly.
"Chase," she said, her voice dripping with venom, "what the hell are you doing with her?"