My mind snapped back into my body the moment Chase’s deep voice rolled across the gym. It was warm and teasing, and it poured straight through my spine, melting every bone until my knees weakened. I blinked quickly and pressed my lips together, stumbling over my own breath as heat flushed across my cheeks. I spun around as if the walls suddenly needed my attention, anywhere but his bare chest or the long lines of muscle I had just been shamelessly admiring without permission.
“I was not staring at you,” I managed to say, but my voice sounded thin and breathless and nothing like confidence. My fingers twisted at the fabric of my gown as I kept my back half turned to him. “I just needed something. That is why I came here.”
Chase let out a low laugh, almost a rumble, the sound warm and mocking but not cruel. It settled into the pit of my stomach in a way that made my heart flutter. “Is that so,” he answered as I heard him wipe sweat from his forehead with a towel. “Because from where I was standing, you looked like you were taking in the view.”
Mortification swallowed me whole. My cheeks burned hotter. “It is not like that. I just needed help.” I swallowed hard, refusing to turn around fully, refusing to let him read the flustered expression I could not control. “I came here because I cannot get this gown off and I cannot sleep in it. I was not staring at you.”
His footsteps shifted on the gym floor, slow and deliberate, each step bringing him closer. I held my breath, unable to do anything except stand there like a statue waiting for the moment the air would change. When he stopped behind me, the warmth of his body brushed across my back, and every muscle in me tensed.
“So you came looking for me in the middle of the night because you needed help undressing.” His voice dipped slightly lower, filled with something that sent a shiver racing across my skin. “Interesting way for a wife to ask for assistance.”
My breath caught. Wife. Every time he said it, my heart felt as if it shifted inside my chest. I clutched the gown tighter, trying to steady myself. “I did not know what else to do,” I whispered. “The dress is too tight. I cannot reach the laces. The maidens already left. I thought maybe you could help me.” I hesitated before adding softly, “Only with the gown.”
I could hear the smile in his voice even though I still refused to face him. “Relax. I am not going to bite you.” He moved around me then, standing in front of me. I had no choice but to look at him. He wiped his chest quickly with the towel, but he was still very shirtless, very sweat soaked, and very distracting. “Turn around,” he said. “Let me see where the laces are stuck.”
My heart pounded so hard I was certain he could hear it. Still, I turned slowly, presenting my back to him. I felt the cool air shift as he stepped behind me. His hands rose to my shoulders, not touching, only hovering, yet the warmth of him poured down my spine and made my whole body tighten. I squeezed my eyes shut to steady myself.
His fingers touched the back of the gown lightly, tracing the fabric first, then the tied laces. His touch was gentle but certain, strong enough to make me shiver. “You really were trapped in this,” he murmured. “I do not know how Cassandra expected to breathe in this thing.”
The mention of her name hit something inside me, something that reminded me again of the truth between us, but I swallowed it down. I needed this gown off more than I needed the reminder of what I was not.
Chase tugged lightly at the first knot. It loosened slowly. The next one came undone more easily. Each time his fingers brushed my back, my breath caught. The air thickened. The room felt warmer even though I knew it was not. The gown began to loosen around my ribs, releasing pressure I had not realized was so suffocating.
“You should breathe easier now,” he said quietly.
I did. I inhaled deeply. The gown was still heavy, but the tightness had lessened enough to let my chest expand. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Not finished yet,” he replied.
His fingers moved lower, undoing one lace after another. The back of the gown parted slowly, and the air touched my spine. Goosebumps rushed across my skin. I bit my lip to keep from making any sound.
Chase paused.
“You are trembling,” he said softly.
“I am cold,” I lied.
He hummed in disbelief. “You are many things right now, Isla, but cold is not one of them.”
I wished I could disappear.
When the last lace came undone, the gown loosened completely. Chase stepped back a little. “You can slip out of it now. Hold it in front so it does not fall.”
I nodded quickly, clutching the front of the gown as I stepped away from him. My entire body shook with a mixture of relief, embarrassment, and something else I did not want to admit.
I faced the opposite wall, keeping my back to him as I carefully pulled the gown off and held it against my front. “Thank you,” I whispered again, voice soft and uneven. “I will take it from here.”
Chase tossed the towel aside. “Do you need anything else,” he asked. “Water. A robe. A calmer heart rate.”
My entire soul combusted. I did not answer. I clutched the gown and darted toward the hallway like a fleeing rabbit. Behind me, I heard Chase chuckle, low and amused.
By the time I reached our chamber, my breathing was completely out of control. I shut the door softly, leaning against it for a moment. My legs were weak. My face felt like it was burning.
What had just happened?
I let the gown fall to the floor and rushed to the wardrobe, finding the nightdress the maidens had prepared. It was soft and simple, thankfully loose enough to slide on without help.
Once changed, I sank onto the enormous bed, pulling the blanket over my legs. The room was quiet. The fire glowed faintly in the corner. My heart, however, refused to calm. It thudded with wild rhythm, replaying every moment in the gym over and over again.
The sight of him shirtless.
The strength in his arms.
The sweat dripping along his spine.
The way his voice wrapped around me like warm smoke.
The way his fingers had brushed my skin as he loosened the gown.
The way my whole body responded even though my mind screamed it should not.
I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling my heartbeat tremble beneath my palm.
Why did it feel like this? Why had his touch felt so gentle, so unexpectedly soft, even in his frustration after everything earlier? Why did my wolf stir every time he came near me, every time he spoke, every time he said the word wife?
Wife.
I swallowed hard as the moment replayed vividly in my mind. The way he had said it in the gym. Not coldly. Not angrily. Not accusingly.
Warmly.
Playfully.
Almost possessively.
My dear wife.
I curled deeper beneath the blanket, pressing my face into the pillow to hide the confused smile that tried to creep onto my lips. It was wrong. It was foolish. It was dangerous for me to feel anything at all toward him.
He was not mine.
He was never meant to be mine.
He belonged to my sister.
He belonged to a destiny that did not include me.
Yet tonight, in that moment, it felt like something else existed between us. Something neither of us understood. Something that frightened me more than his anger ever could.
I touched my lips lightly with trembling fingers.
If being near him felt like this, what would happen when he decided what to do about our marriage? What would happen when he uncovered the rest of the truth? What would happen when he finally chose whether I stayed or left?
I turned onto my back, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.
For the first time since this nightmare began, a different fear crept into my chest.
Not the fear of being discovered.
The fear of what I felt when he said the word wife
… and how much a part of me wished he meant it.