(Chase Dubois)
The sound of Tilly crying on the other side of that door was going to haunt me forever.
I replayed her words on a loop all the way back to my room.
Whore.
She'd called herself a whore. Because of something I had said.
Except I could never say that to her. And if she's curled up on the damn floor sobbing then a version of Chase Dubois did say it.
Fucking Greyson.
My idiot of a brother did this and he was down the hall.
The weary part of me wanted to some quiet, and some damn alcohol, maybe a cliff to jump out of or a nice rope for my neck, except the stupid damn legs wouldn't even stand on a chair.
How pathetic! I couldn't even kill myself without help!
"Invalid! Invalid! Invalid!" I screamed out loud in frustration.
But a hotter, sharper feeling overtook my desire for quiet. It was anger.
I turned my chair and headed not for my room, but for my brother's.
I was going to get answers. I was going to make him tell me exactly what he'd said to her. And then… I didn't know.
I had ideas... interesting ideas.
I pushed his door open without knocking.
The scene inside stopped me.
My father was in the center of the room, all fury and scorch earth. Mother was a worried figure at his side and a hand on his arm.
And from the inner chamber, I could hear the sound of Greyson throwing things into a bag.
It took me a minute to realize that our father was there to ensure Greyson's exile back home.
"He leaves tonight," Father was saying, his voice was dangerous. The type he uses for council meetings when he's talking about annoying enemy territory "You will go with him, Mulan. Make sure he gets home without burning down an ally."
"Kale, please," Mother whispered. "He's upset. Let him stay. Sending him back like a misbehaving toddler won't earn him respect of the pack"
"Upset?!" Father's laugh was harsh. Way too harsh for my comfort. It wasn't a laugh I was accustomed to. Hell, he wasn't the man I was accustomed to.
Two months ago, he would have handled this... this situation, differently. He would have handled Grey differently but then again, two months ago, I had walking legs and a future as king of the pack, and my name whispered sent fear into the heart of our enemies both home and across the sea.
Now, I'm...this imposter. In need of my brother's cock to father children, in need a dragon wife to stand on top.
"Upset?" He asked again. "I am upset, Mulan! My second son is a walking bag of uselessness. A spoiled, selfish brat who would jeopardize everything for a cheap thrill! He is a disappointment, Mulan and he is upset. No! I am upset!"
From the other room, the packing sounds didn't stop. But I knew Greyson could hear every word.
My own anger got shoved down, buried under a heavier, older weight. This. This was the real disaster.
"Father," I said, my voice cutting through the tension.
He turned, his expression hardening only a fraction. I think sometimes he wishes I had died too instead of being a constant reminder of everything he could no longer have.
"Chase. This doesn't concern you."
"Why do you do this?" I asked. The question came out quiet, tired. Because I was tired of it. Because it was a question someone needed to ask "Why is every single conversation about how worthless he is?"
Father's eyes flashed in anger "I know his your brother but he slept with your future bride in a storage closet, Chase! Or have you forgotten?!"
I looked down at my hands in my lap. I couldn't meet his eyes. The mention of it—of him with her—was painful. "I remember, alright. I remember" I mumbled, the words bitter in my mouth. "But like lately, you're missing the point."
"What point?!" Father roared, making Mother flinch.
I hate that she does that now. Flinches like she wasn't who she was. when she was Mulan Stormhart -Dubois, daughter of a king...wife of a king, warrior like you've never seen before. Now, she it just seemed like she was holding her breath for the next disaster.
"Enlighten me!" Father yelled "What glorious point excuses his constant, humiliating failures?!"
I finally looked up at him. "He's your son"
The words echoed. Father blinked.
"He's not just my brother or the pack disappointment," I said, my voice dropping but gaining strength. "He's your son. And you are his father."
I took a deep breath. And I held my father's gaze. "He's your son. And you are...you are his father, Papa. Could you try and remember that?"
"And I am a king! I don't have time to hold his hand!" Father's fists clenched. Mother subtly moved closer to him.
"I want him gone," Father stated, ice in his voice now. "If I am to salvage this alliance, I cannot have him here, like a lit match in a powder room."
Like usual these days, words fell on Alpha Kale Dubois deaf ears.
"Well, he can't go," I told him.
"Oh, he will."
"No." I shook my head. Trying to remind him of the objective of this damn mission. "He can't. This whole… charade you've built… it falls apart without him."
That got his full attention. His head tilted. "What?"
I stared at the floor again, shame heating my face. "Turns out… my future wife…" I swallowed. "She… prefers…"
"Speak up!" Father barked.
"My brother is trying to say that his little dragon princess… likes it rough." Greyson voice made look away. I didn't even know he had entered the main room.
He leaned in the doorway to the inner chamber, a bag slung over his shoulder, a smug, terrible smile on his face.
"She's developed a taste for it, you see. Taste for the excitement. And dear Chase here…" He gestured lazily at me. "…can't exactly deliver the goods."
I shut my eyes, a groan escaping me. It was the sound of pure humiliation.
Father's furious gaze swung between us.
Greyson strolled further into the room, enjoying his moment. "So, my brother's right, Father. Without me—your useless, disappointing son—your precious deal crumbles. You need me or at least, my cock."
He stopped in front of Alpha Kale. "So. Do you still want me to leave?"
The silence was thicker than blood. Father stared at him, his Alpha power pressing down on the room. Then, with a sound of utter disgust, he waved a dismissive hand and turned on his heel, storming out.
Mother gave us one last, pained look " Don't be late for breakfast with the Winchesters" and with that, she hurried after him.
The door clicked shut.
Greyson turned to me, the smug smile returning. Son of a bitch!
"Aw. You didn't have to defend me to Daddy. It's almost sweet, how you still—"
BANG.
The sound was shockingly loud in the quiet room.
Greyson's smile vanished. He looked down at his leg, at the neat, suddenly blooming red hole in his trousers just above the knee. A second later, the pain seemed to hit his brain. He cried out, collapsing to the floor with a crash.
"What the HELL, Chase!" he screamed, clutching his leg, his face white in pain.
I wheeled myself closer. In my hand, the small silver pistol felt warm.
I stopped beside him where he writhed on the floor. I leaned down, reached out, and gently cupped his cheek, making him look at me. His eyes were wide with shock and agony.
"Don't," I said softly, calmly, "ever call her a whore again. Do you understand me?"
I let go of his face, turned my chair, and headed for the door.
He was gasping, swearing, his breaths coming in ragged sobs of pain.
"It's just a tiny bit of silver bullet," I said, not looking back as I opened the door. "Six hours of excruciating pain. Then you'll be good as new." I paused in the doorway. "I'll tell our mother you're not feeling well, little brother. And hope to God, I can undo the damage you did to the poor girl or so help me God, I am taking out your other knee cap"
I closed the door behind me