Tilly Ann
Images flashed in my head. These were very vivid and thoroughly descriptive image of Chase's finger and his tongue and his very, and I mean very enormous and beautiful...
"Tilly!"
I forced my face into control. Don't you blush. Don't you dare.
"Oh please, he's been the picture of chivalry, Father," I said, laying the lie on thick. "A true gentleman. I can't believe you fell for that."
"Not funny." He gave the strap a final, victorious yank and turned back to his saddle. The subject, apparently, closed.
Thankfully.
"Now," I said, crossing my arms. "That I've alleviated your guilt, do you want to tell me why I'm being pushed into marriage with an annoying, sniveling little bastard like Chase Dubois? Why did you propose the match, Father?"
"I didn't," he said, his voice dropping. He finally looked at me, his eyes serious. "The Lycan King came to me. He practically offered me the world for you."
I blinked. "Why?"
"I don't know. He offered me everything and more... including soldiers to defend our borders against the Greek fairies. Everything, Tilly. Everything. It was a good bargain. I accepted"
"You make me sound like a cattle. Have I thanked you for selling me, Father?"
"Hush now," he said, but a small smile touched his lips. "I didn't sell you. I wouldn't sell my favorite son, would I?"
It was our old, running joke. I have always been more of a fighter than a pretty girl in a pretty dress.
"Hahaha," Kessington droned from behind me. "Funny." He said sarcastically.
I stuck my tongue out at him before turning back to Father. "Are you having second thoughts?"
He hesitated. A rare thing for Adonis Winchester. "Dubois's eldest… Chase. Your betrothed. He's in a wheelchair, Tilly. An invalid." He said the word like it was sour in his mouth. "I… I worry he may not be able to give you children, my darling. I couldn't subject you to a life with no—"
I couldn't help it. A loud, snorting laugh burst out of me. The idea of the man who'd spent the better part of last night buried between my legs being incapable of fathering children was the most hilarious thing I'd ever heard.
My father stared at me like I'd sprouted a second head.
I coughed, slapping a straight face back on.
"I'm sure that's not true, Father" I cleared my throat again, my cheeks aching from holding in the giggles.
He watched me for a long time. "Well," he finally said. "Until I am personally reassured by Alpha Kale Dubois on this matter, your engagement is on hold."
"Yes, Father."
I turned to leave.
"Tilly."
I glanced back. "Yes, Father?"
"Are you alright with this engagement?" His face was uncharacteristically soft. "I wouldn't want to make the wrong choice for you, sweet girl."
The genuine worry in his voice melted my sarcasm away.
"I trust you, Father." I walked back and kissed his stubbly cheek. "And before I forget… I want two dragon eggs. It's only fair I get something from this arrangement since I'm going to be the sacrificial lamb."
That got a real laugh out of him. "Now, that's the daughter I know. Always working an angle."
As I walked away, I spotted the saddle strap he'd been fighting with, still loose. In one smooth motion, I ducked under thunder's neck, yanked the leather through the buckle, and secured it tight, all in under a minute.
"Show-off!" Kessington called. "I can't believe someone has actually agreed to marry you!"
I flipped him my middle finger without looking back.
"Tilly Ann!" Father's admonishment followed me out.
"Sorry, Papa!" I yelled over my shoulder, a grin on my face.
I was still smiling when I walked to the corner of the old, abandoned armory. The smile died the second I walked straight into the side of a wheelchair.
I stumbled back. Sitting in it was Chase. Again.
Looking up at me with those deep, unsettlingly tired eyes.
"Princess?" he greeted, his voice quiet.
"Polite now, are we?" I brushed imaginary dust off my skirt "You can drop the act. We both know you're dirtier than a pudding pan."
He didn't smile. That wicked, hungry glint was absent. He just looked… hollow.
"You look flustered, Matilda," he said softly. "Are you coming down with something, sweetheart?"
"Yes," I forced out, the word trembling. "Putting up mental shields so my mind-reading father doesn't break your neck for what we did takes more energy than you think."
I took a deep breath. Everything was so exhausting.
The exhaustion finally past my last defenses.
The mental wall I'd been holding up for hours crumbled, and with it, my composure. "You have no idea the compromising position you've put me in, Chase Dubois."