Mated by Marriage

Chapter 6

When I finally wake, there's no light streaming into my room, and no birds chirping outside. I sit up slowly and feel around for my phone, checking the time. It's already well past dinner time, and while I appreciate the rest, my stomach's angry growling has me wishing someone would've woken me up. I grab a sweatshirt from a nearby hook and toss it on lazily. The window in my room is cracked open, and the night air sends a chill down my spine. I find some slippers as well and head out my bedroom door. Looking around cautiously, I see no one and almost nothing in the still darkness. Regardless, I bumble my way down the hall and to the elevator. Shortly after, I find myself standing in the most opulent kitchen I've ever seen. The ceilings are limitless in height, the counters a dark, glistening black marble, two enormous fridges, and a large sunken sink positioned in the middle of the island. I grin to myself; one of my favorite hobbies in Mom’s absence was cooking. It was hard to manage though, since our kitchen was fully staffed at all times. Every time I'd try to cook on my own, a concerned chef would come flying around a corner, insisting I shouldn't bother myself with the task. I'm pleasantly surprised that the Dixons don't employ the same tactics with their kitchen. I quickly decide to scavenge for ingredients and get to work making my favorite midnight snack, chocolate chip pancakes.

As I cook, I silently hope that I don't attract the attention of any night owls scattered around the estate. I make light work of it, and in no time, I have a pleasantly fluffy stack of pancakes. When all the pans have been washed and the ingredients have been returned to their respective homes, I move the serving dish of pancakes to the island and make myself a plate. I'm just about to take my first bite when I hear the creaking of floorboards behind me. I freeze, suddenly quite aware of how absurd I look eating pancakes in the dark at this hour. A light at the far end of the kitchen switches on, and a voice calls out.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here. I was just going to grab a snack..."

The voice trails off; it's groggy sounding, like they'd either just woken up or hadn't slept at all. Despite that, I recognize the voice. I turn around to see Chase standing in the doorway. Which is no surprise since all I've seen him do since I've been here is stand ominously in doorways. He's wearing a loose black T-shirt and grey sweatpants with slippers to match. His hair is disheveled, and he's yawning repeatedly. His eyes finally focus and land on me sitting at the island. He raises an eyebrow as he surveys my feast.

"Seems like you had the same idea. Makes sense though, since you missed dinner."

I wave my hand toward the serving dish and slide an empty plate forward on the counter.

"Here, help yourself. I made way too much anyway. I've never been able to get the portions right."

Chase chuckles to himself lightly and makes his way to the island. I think it's the first time I've heard him genuinely laugh. The dim lighting makes it hard to see his face, but I can tell that he has dimples when he smiles, and the pleasant expression compliments his features more than his usual surly demeanor.

"Sure. Looks good. Did you call someone down to make them?"

Chase slides into the stool next to me and casually begins to fill his plate. I snort and take a bite of my pancake. It's thick and warm, the chocolate chips melted perfectly into tiny swirls.

"Excuse you, I made these myself. Did you laugh because you thought I ordered this many pancakes for myself and then tried to hide it?"

I feel my cheeks flush pink at the idea that he thought I was lying about cooking just to save face. I mean, he did find me in the dark with a giant stack of these things, so I suppose I can imagine how that looked. Chase tilts his head curiously at me, before chuckling again. This time I see it clearly, his eyes sparkle for just a second and the briefly visible dimples highlight his chiseled jaw. Even still, there's a seriousness that never seems to leave his face.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm just so used to staff doing all the cooking, it's been a while since anyone actually used the kitchen."

His words are muffled by the bites of pancake he's continually shoving in his mouth. I smile to myself, it's also been a while since anyone's eaten my cooking and it pleases me to see this seemingly well-mannered man shoveling it in like someone might steal it away.

"You haven't slept yet? I guess that explains your cheerful attitude."

Chase takes a few more massive bites before turning towards me. He frowns, his surly demeanor returning all at once.

"There it is again. Are you always this accusatory? Or is it just in your nature to assume people are the worst?"

I gasp, feeling at a loss for words. It hadn't crossed my mind that he'd take what I said so seriously. Given our conversation earlier, I should've been more careful. On the other hand, his temperament with me has only appeared to get worse over the course of our interactions. A hot flash of anger courses through me.

"You don't have to be such an asshole, you know. I didn't mean anything by it, it was nice that you were laughing for a minute instead of scowling at me from across a room or lurking in doorways. Yes, I am always this accusatory, and I do assume people are the worst until proven otherwise. That tends to happen when your Dad is ambushed and murdered in broad daylight and the killers are never found. Enjoy your pancakes, jackass."

I push away from the table in a frenzy. I can feel hot tears welling up in my eyes, and the last thing I want now is for Chase to see me cry. I crash backwards into the stool, losing my footing and knocking it over at the same time. I tumble towards the floor, trying to avoid the legs of the already toppled stool. Suddenly, a thick, warm arm wraps around my waist, dragging me to my feet. My hands fly up instinctively, steadying themselves on his equally warm chest. His chin lightly scrapes the top of my head. His jaw lowers, aiming his mouth at my ear.

"Are you okay?"

His voice feels different somehow. It's still deep and commanding, but it's equally soft and soothing. I fix my eyes on the floor, trying desperately to slow my heartbeat and steady myself. I take a deep breath, and I'm hit with a wave of Chase's scent. It's intoxicating, making it all the more difficult to breathe. Before I can make sense of what's happening, I feel Chase's hand cup my chin and tilt my face upwards.

"Look at me, are you hurt? You're crying..."

I reach up to wipe my face, but his thumb is already lightly brushing my under-eye and cheek. His touch is rhythmic and calming. I lean into it, closing my eyes for a moment.

"I'm fine. I was crying before I fell."

I mumble the words towards his chest, still not wanting to make eye contact.

"I'm sorry."

He doesn't offer more than that, but it's surprising to hear him apologize so easily.

"You're very confusing."

I peek up at him while I speak. His face is serious as ever, but his eyes are glowing lightly like they were in the courtyard.

"I'm sorry for that too."

I allow myself to meet his gaze. I study the glow in his eyes before deciding that he means it. Really, I don't decide; my wolf does. I feel her pacing back and forth relentlessly, and a bead of sweat on my forehead tells me I'm suddenly burning up. I turn to pull away from Chase, eager to get away from his overwhelming presence, but as I do, he pulls me back. The glow in his eyes is intense now, and normally I would be terrified if anyone in an Alpha bloodline looked at me that way. Instead, I'm drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Before I know it, his lips crash against mine. His kiss is hungry, desperate, not at all what I would imagine from someone as restrained as him. It doesn't matter though, because I meet his hunger with my own. There's no control over the strange lust invading my body. His fingers curl into my hair, and I press myself against him. He tugs lightly, and I moan into his mouth. This close to him, I can feel his body shutter in reaction. My wolf calms, her presence becoming a warm glow, and for the first time, I can sense Chase's wolf. It's overwhelmingly strong; I can sense it thrashing and growling like a wild beast. I gasp, breaking the seal between our lips.

Chase suddenly shrinks back from me, almost as if he'd been slapped. A look of guilt flashes across his face before he turns his back to me.

"I told you my wolf isn't safe, Melissa."

I stand in the soft glow of the kitchen light, watching him swiftly move towards the doorway.

"Meli. You can just call me Meli."

He pauses for a second, clearly startled by my voice, but he doesn't respond. I watch him disappear into the hallway, the sound of his footsteps vanishing into the elevator.