Chapter 120: Ensnared by Her Charade

Chase POV 

"She nearly cost Lottie everything. She's messed with filth, spilled secrets, toyed with hearts she had no business touching." Adam cut through the easing tension. My chest rattled with anger. I'd lose my composure if I'd thought of Connie's acts too deeply. So I channeled that fury into protectiveness—pretending it was directed at Adam, not her. 

"Lottie is not blameless," I demanded as I advanced a step, putting my body between them, not missing the tiny flicker of relief that flashed across Connie's features. She is an adult and makes her own choices, choices that hurt others. I know you see her as innocent, but she isn't." I admitted hating every word that slipped off my tongue. I knew it would gain Connie's trust to hear me defend her and put Lottie down. I just hoped my brothers would understand why I was saying this. 

"Pardon?" Liam scoffed as he stepped beside Adam. I tried to reach them through mindlink, seeing the pain etched on both their faces, but I couldn't reach them, which would be a damn big problem. But hey, what was one more in the pile of others we had?

"I said, let it go," I repeated, my voice low. Then I shot them the barest wink—so small I hoped Connie wouldn't catch it. But Adam did. His tense shoulders slumped a fraction. While Liam blew out a sharp breath, stepping back in reluctant compliance.

Behind me, Connie made a soft sobbing sound. 'Not very Luna-like. I must say.' was all I could think.

Instantly, Thor lunged in my mind, wanting to close the distance, wanting to hold her like the bipolar bastard he was. I hated him for it—I hated the raw magnetism Astaroth had cursed me with. Yet there was no time to dwell on that; the show had to go on. I whipped around, letting an edge of concern colour my features.

She stared at me, tears clinging to her lashes, and something inside my chest twisted. Curse or not, I wanted to comfort her. It felt like clawing at my own morality to hold myself in check. But we needed her to believe I was her knight. So I slid a protective arm around her waist, letting her cling to me, and grit my teeth against the weird pang of longing that contact triggered.

Adam snarled again, and Connie flinched. I could sense the tension around us like a tangible presence, each laboured breath echoing in the silence.

"There, see?" I said pointedly to Adam. "She's trembling. You nearly broke her." A bald-faced lie—I was sure Connie could handle more than she let on. She was manipulative and cunning. But in this moment, I was sworn to play the part.

"You think that's something to cry about? His lip curled. "She's done worse to Lottie." He practically spat the last word—my sister's name. My heart clenched. He wasn't wrong. She had done worse and never shed real tears for it.

"No, I haven't." She growled; I closed my eyes, wishing she would just for once keep that fuckin mouth shut.

"Not now, darling," I whispered, drawing out the last word as sexily as I could muster.

"See, even your new friend is sick of your voice." Kane laughed, shaking his head. Connie gasped, tucking herself further under my arm as if expecting any one of them to lunge. My skin prickled with the awareness of her body pressed to mine, but I reminded myself it was all illusions and curses. Even so, I couldn't shut off the spark of attraction. 

I hated it.

Adam's eyes flicked at me. For a moment, I saw deep conflict—he wanted me to reassure him that I hadn't succumbed to the enthrallment or truly fallen for Connie's sob story. So I offered him the slightest smirk and an almost imperceptible nod. It was our signal: Calm down, brother, I'm still with you.

"You will show her respect, Kane… remember who the fuck I am! I am no alpha, No friend; I am a sparrow brother, and as such, you will mind your fucking tongue, or I will remove it... with my teeth," I warned a smug-looking Kane. I knew he got it. After all, Kane had hammered our plan into place. He would ensure the show continued from behind the scenes. 

I was just the face, the soft words, the illusions of romance. If we were lucky, Connie would open up to me and brag about all her subterfuge and betrayals, certain that I was enthralled by her. 

Then, we could unravel her from the inside out.

Adam exhaled, stepping away. The tension in the kitchen dropped a fraction, though the air still crackled with a dangerous undercurrent. He shot me a look that said, 

"Fuck you. You psychopath." Then he turned on his heel, stalking out of the back door towards the gardens, and Kane and Liam followed behind quickly. The echo of their heavy footsteps lingered for a few moments before fading, leaving me alone with Connie.

A loaded silence descended. The overhead light buzzed faintly. Outside the windows, the early glow of sunrise seeped in, painting the counters in pale shades of gold and lavender. I felt Connie shift under my arm, her breath shaking. 

She was still trembling.

Gently, I tugged her away from the sink so she could stand upright. "You alright?" I asked, quietly enough to convey gentleness but loudly enough for anyone eavesdropping to hear my feigned concern. The corners of my eyes searched for a sign that Adam or Kane was still listening.

She swallowed, nodding. 

"I… I'm sorry, Chase, I never meant… He just…" Her voice hitched, and fresh tears spilled over her cheeks. My anger at her illusions twisted deeper. She was good at playing victim—almost as well as I was at playing her hero.

"It's okay," I murmured, forcing softness into my voice. I smoothed a hand over her hair, ignoring the flutter it gave my heart. 

"Adam was out of line." I sighed heavily. Her dark eyes flicked up to my face, a mixture of desperation and doubt clouding them. 

"You… you came for me. Even though I… well, I am not your mate," she admitted, voice small. I let out a half-laugh, trying to make it sound real and not like I wanted to vomit all over her tits.

"I couldn't let him hurt you." That, at least, was partly true. I wouldn't have let Adam tear her apart if only because we needed her. She hesitated, eyes shining with a faint flicker of hope.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I muddled my words up." Her lip trembled again.

"Connie" I echoed softly, letting concern lace my tone. "You have to be careful. I… I don't want anything bad to happen to you." Each word tasted false on my tongue, but I masked it.

Connie's lips parted. She studied my face, perhaps assessing my sincerity. "Really?" she asked at last, voice tight. 

Blood pounded in my head, fueling my resolve to keep Connie close and eventually expose her. But for now, I forced my features into a compassionate softness, letting the ends of my lips curl slightly as though I cared.

"I'm glad you're okay," I murmured. "Let's get you out of here—somewhere safe."

She exhaled shakily and leaned into me, burying her face in my shoulders. My stomach flipped traitorously, half from guilt at the lie, half from the cursed pull that made me want to hold her close—Astaroth's cunning. My entire body sparked with anger at the demon's meddling, yet I couldn't deny it worked. 

I wanted her pressed against me as much as I wanted to cast her out.

"Well fuck a duck, I am screwed!" I mused to Thor, who groaned in agreement.