Mated by Marriage

Chapter 2

Dallas was kind enough to have his house attendants set up a nearly perfect replica of my room for me. Although it's arguably better. The bookcases touch the ceiling and have already been filled with all my favorite authors, some rare copies of classics I thought I would never hold, let alone own. The bed, a perfect four-poster king size, is framed by a lacy black canopy overhead. There’s an attached bathroom with a walk-through closet and powder room. Between the dressers and closet, I have plenty of space for me to unpack my things, but in the corner of the closet hang several dresses, athletic sets, pajamas, and casual outfits as well. A note attached to the front of the first dress reads:

"Melissa, please enjoy these specially curated outfits while you wait for your items to arrive and be unpacked. Consider it a homecoming present - Dallas"

Well, the man has immaculate taste, that's for sure.

Before I was guided to my room on the 3rd floor, Dallas had informed us all that dinner would be in roughly half an hour and that it was a semi-formal event. Apparently, he'd hired a very exclusive private chef to cater tonight as a sort of welcome event. I carefully thumbed through the dresses he'd left me before landing on a long satin black dress with a classy slit on the right side. This will do. Nothing too flashy for tonight; I don't want the Dixons getting the impression that I'm a spoiled Alpha brat. Speaking of spoiled brats...Chase was nothing like I expected him to be. I suppose in my mind, I'd built him up to be this charming, sleazy, playboy type. It would be fairly on brand for an Alpha's son to be exactly that. Instead, he was nonchalant, maybe even indifferent, and rather surly looking. Thinking on it, he might even be surlier than me. Then there was that look he gave me - it was piercing and direct, but it didn't hold the same cold indifference that his tone did. For a minute, his eyes had lit up, almost like when a wolf is about to transform. It was strange, but so far, all of this is strange. I shake the thought from my mind. There’s no point dwelling on it; we're all stuck here together now, and there will be plenty of time to figure that one out.

I take a quick shower and blow-dry my long brown hair. I slip into the dress I'd picked out and take a seat at the vanity. To my surprise, when I open the drawers, there are tons of makeup products, all high-end and brand new. Dallas strikes again. He's making it very difficult, if even possible, to dislike him. I rifle through the drawers, picking out a simple but classy makeup look. My personal style tends to lean more alternative, but again, I don't want to upset the delicate balance of the evening. I finish the look off with a spritz of an opulent bottle of perfume that smells like roses and lilies. Just then, there’s a knock at the door. I quickly make my way across the room and open the door. There, standing in the doorway, is Chase. He looks just as grumpy as earlier, but this time he is neatly tucked into an all-black suit with a matching tie, shoes, and cufflinks. He's mesmerizingly handsome in this dark ensemble that highlights the sparkling green shade of his eyes. I stare at him for a moment, not sure what to say. He returns my stare for a moment before a small scowl creeps into his expression.

"What's that smell? Perfume?"

I frowned, not sure if he was referring to the scent of the shower I had just taken, or the perfume I had just sprayed. Either way, the comment is brash and bordering on rude.

"What are you talking about? I just showered and sprayed some perfume when I got ready. Does it smell bad?"

Chase shifts his feet and averts his eyes, clearly uncomfortable for reasons unknown to me.

"Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. You just smell like roses now, and you smelled like sandalwood earlier. My wolf is extra sensitive to smell."

He clears his throat, reminding me of Dallas in the moment.

"Did you...prefer the sandalwood scent? I didn't have anything on earlier, so it was probably just me..."

I trail off, realizing I wasn't making the situation any better by insinuating that the smell he preferred was my natural scent. Chase clears his throat again.

"It doesn't matter, you're free to smell how you'd like. Anyway, dinner is ready, and Dallas sent me to get you."

I look up at him inquisitively.

"You don't call Dallas, Dad?"

Chase finally allows his eyes to meet mine again. His cool and indifferent demeanor returning all at once.

"No. Not often, at least. I was raised calling him Alpha Dixon, and then Dallas when I turned 18 and became heir apparent. He only wanted me to start calling him Dad after my mom passed."

I realized I had likely overstepped by asking that and found myself standing there pitifully lost for words. Fortunately, Chase doesn't seem to mind. He simply gestures towards the hallway.

"Let me escort you to dinner, please. I'd like to get this over with."

I stifle a laugh. Chase is becoming more and more odd with every passing second. He seems so formal and polite, and yet there's an underlying presence of irritation and smugness that never seems to leave him. Instead of prying, I simply nod and allow him to lead me to the elevator and then the dining hall. We arrive to find the table set with appetizers and wine. Mom is sitting at the end of the table next to Dallas, who is sitting regally at the head of the table. They wave us over, patting the seats to either of their sides, respectively. Chase and I both take our seats and hone our focus on the plates in front of us. Everything looks delicious, and my wolf growls softly, reminding me that it's been some time since I've eaten. Chase suddenly lifts his head and peers at me with a studious expression.

"Is your wolf shy, or defective, or something? That's the first time I've sensed its presence."

Dallas shoots Chase a damning look before turning towards me.

"I apologize on Chase's behalf. What an incredibly rude question."

Chase hangs his head, returning to the plate in front of him. I wave Dallas off and take a sip of my wine.

"Oh, it's fine. He's not far off the mark. My dad actually taught me to suppress my wolf when I was younger. He thought it would make me a less likely target for kidnapping or murder, or whatever else he was worried about. She's perfectly intact, just hard to sense unless she's really worked up."

I plaster a polite smile on my face to reassure Dallas that all is well. Truthfully, Chase wasn't wrong. I mean, my dad did actually teach me to repress my wolf, and she is perfectly intact as far as I know. The problem is, I don't actually have much control over her beyond that. My shifting is erratic and unpredictable, and she only really surfaces when my emotions are high. She and I are disconnected in a sense. Nonetheless, no one at the table, including my mom, needs to know that. I change the subject abruptly. Fortunately, an array of entrees is shuffled out by a haughty-looking chef and his team in the middle of my awkward attempt at conversation, and I don't have to make much effort to shift everyone's attention.

The dinner flies by without incident, and I find myself accidentally overeating. The food was incredible, and I just couldn't help myself. Satisfied and finally feeling the effects of a full day of travel and introductions, I excuse myself from the table, leaving my mom and Dallas sipping wine and whispering in the candlelight. They seem happy and content with their own company, barely noticing my exit. I make my way back to my bedroom and collapse onto the bed. I try to will myself to get up, change, take my makeup off, but sleep already has its claws in me. I fall asleep before I can even get under the covers, weakly hoping for a deep and dreamless slumber.