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1424 Words
The morning light had barely begun creeping through the curtains when I felt someone shaking my shoulder gently. At first, I thought I was dreaming, still lost between sleep and reality, my mind tangled in the memories of the night before. Chase’s fingers on my back. His breath near my ear. The gown loosening. His teasing voice wrapping around me like silk.
But then the shaking grew firmer.
“Isla, wake up.”
My eyes fluttered open, and my heart jumped painfully in my chest. Chase stood over me, already dressed, looking intense and serious. His hair was slightly damp, as if he had showered, and he wore a dark shirt that clung to his frame. The early morning shadows cast sharp angles along his jaw, making him look even more intimidating than usual.
I blinked at him, still groggy, confused, and completely unprepared for how close he was. “W… what is happening?”
He stepped back, giving me space, though his expression did not soften. “Get up. We need to leave. Now.”
My heart skipped. “Leave? Where are we going?”
Chase exhaled slowly as if steadying his temper. “To your parents’ house.”
My breath caught. “What? Why?”
“To confront them,” he answered quietly but firmly. “They owe me an explanation. And so do you.”
The weight of his voice sank into my chest. I sat up slowly, clutching the blanket against me, suddenly very aware that I was still in my nightdress. Chase’s eyes moved away politely, but his jaw tightened a little, like he was forcing himself not to look at me too long.
He cleared his throat. “Dress quickly. We do not have time.”
I swallowed. “It is barely dawn.”
“That is the point,” he said. “I want us gone before the rest of the pack wakes. If anyone sees you, they will know immediately that you are not Cassandra.”
My face heated instantly. The reminder struck deep. “What are we going to tell them?”
His eyes snapped back to mine. “That depends on what your parents say. I want the truth. All of it.”
My stomach twisted into a painful knot. My parents. The people who had begged me to save the family. The ones who had pushed me into this lie. They would have to face Chase now. An Alpha. A furious Alpha. I did not know what he would do. I did not know what they would say. I did not know what would happen when everything finally collapsed.
“Chase,” I whispered, my voice small. “Are you still angry?”
His silence answered the question.
But then he sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “I am angry at the situation. Not at you. Not anymore.” His voice softened just slightly. “You were pushed into it. I know that much.”
That should have relieved me, but it only made my heart twist harder. He was trying to be rational. Trying to control his wolf. Trying to think clearly. And that made everything feel heavier, not lighter.
I pushed the blanket away and slipped out of bed, my feet touching the cold floor. Every muscle in my body was stiff from yesterday’s stress. Chase turned away completely as I gathered clothes and stepped into the bathroom to change.
My breaths were shallow as I dressed in a simple soft blouse and jeans, much more comfortable than the heavy gown I had worn for hours. My fingers brushed lightly over the spot on my back where his hand had hovered last night, where his touch had felt warm and strangely gentle. The memory sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. I shook my head quickly to scatter the thought.
This was not the time for dreaming.
When I stepped out, Chase was by the window, staring at the trees outside the mansion, his arms crossed, his posture tense and alert. He turned when he heard me.
“Ready?” he asked.
“As ready as I can be,” I answered softly.
He nodded once and motioned for me to follow him. I walked behind him, my steps small and nervous. The hallway was quiet, lit by the faint bluish glow of early dawn. The pack house was still asleep. Even the guards were changing shifts quietly. Chase moved briskly, as if trying to outrun the worry that lingered in the air.
When we reached the large stairs leading to the entrance, I finally gathered the courage to ask the question that had been burning inside me since he woke me up.
“Chase… are we still going on the honeymoon?”
He stopped mid step.
My breath caught.
He turned slowly, his dark eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, he simply stared at me, unreadable. I felt very small under his gaze. Very unsure. Very exposed.
Then he spoke quietly.
“Yes.”
My heart thudded.
“Why,” I whispered. “Is it really that necessary?”
“It is,” he replied without hesitation. “If we cancel the honeymoon, people will ask questions. If we stay here, the pack will notice immediately that something is wrong. They will notice you are not her. Rumors will start. And the scandal I tried to avoid last night will explode anyway.”
I lowered my head, guilt swirling in my stomach. “So we have to pretend.”
His voice grew firm. “For now.”
The words hurt, even though they should not have. Pretend. My place beside him was pretend. The marriage, the dance, the bond, the night, all of it was a fragile image the world expected to see.
I nodded slowly. “I understand.”
He studied me for a moment. A long moment. His eyes softened, just barely, as if he could almost read the thoughts I was trying so hard to hide.
“We will deal with everything,” he said quietly. “But one step at a time. First your parents. Then the pack. Then the rest.”
I exhaled shakily.
He opened the door and gestured for me to step outside. The early morning air was cold and crisp, brushing against my skin like a reminder of the real world waiting beyond the mansion walls.
A sleek black SUV was already waiting near the entrance. The driver stepped out and opened the door for us, bowing slightly to Chase. I climbed into the back seat, and Chase joined me, closing the door behind us.
As soon as the engine hummed to life and the mansion began to fade behind us, I felt the weight of the day ahead settle onto my shoulders.
Chase sat beside me, arms crossed, gaze fixed straight ahead. The tension in the car was thick enough to feel on my skin. He was strong, steady, silent, but not cold. His presence filled the car in a way that almost calmed my trembling nerves.
Almost.
I stole a glance at him, studying the curve of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes, the quiet storm that always seemed to sit beneath his calm. And for a moment, I saw something else in his expression. A flicker of conflict. A hint of confusion. A trace of something unspoken.
I knew it was not affection. Or warmth. Or anything romantic. But it was something more than anger. Something that made my heart beat a little faster.
Something that made my breath catch.
He noticed me looking and raised a brow slightly. “What is it?”
I jerked my gaze away quickly. “Nothing.”
He hummed, unconvinced, but said nothing more.
The car rolled down the quiet road toward my childhood home. The sky lightened slowly above us, washing hints of gold across the horizon. My heartbeat quickened with every mile.
Soon, we would be there.
Soon, Chase would get answers.
Soon, the truth would be laid bare.
I tightened my grip on my hands, staring out the window as fear clutched at me once again.
This morning could change everything.
And I was not ready.
But Chase was.
His voice cut through the silence one last time, steady and firm.
“Do not worry. We will face them together.”
The word together sent warmth rushing into my chest.
But the truth still loomed over us like a shadow.
We were not really together.
- Writer
