Chapter 9 To hell with rule #1

“Thursday,” Chase answered smoothly, stepping up beside me. He didn’t touch me, but he stood close enough that his shoulder brushed mine, a subtle statement of ownership. “We aren’t rushing the process, Elder. We want it done right.”

“Rushing would be a mistake,” Thorne agreed, his voice dripping with skepticism. He turned and began walking down the corridor, his eyes scanning the photos of Lila, the blanket fort in the alcove, the lived-in mess of the living room. “The Voss family has raised serious concerns, Chase. They believe this sudden… alignment with a woman who has spent the last decade publicly dragging your name through the mud is nothing more than a calculated performance.”

“Freya’s columns were business,” Chase said, his voice tightening. “This is personal. We’ve had history since we were kids, Thorne. You know that.”

“I know what is on paper,” Thorne retorted, stopping at the base of the stairs. He turned back to face us, his expression unreadable. “But paper does not raise an alpha pup. Sophie’s dominance is already registering on our monitors. She needs a stable, mated guardian. An unmated alpha with a history of bar fights and a latent mate who cannot even shift… it does not inspire confidence.”

He began walking up the stairs, his enforcers following. He was going to the master bedroom.

I felt a cold bead of sweat trace my spine. Chase’s hand found the small of my back, his palm hot through my hoodie, guiding me up after them. The touch was firm, possessive, and entirely necessary for the show. But my god, the heat of it.

We reached the master suite. Thorne stood in the center of the room, his eyes scanning the rumpled sheets, the overlapping clothes in the open closet, the dual nightstands. He walked over to my side of the bed, bending slightly to inhale the pillowcase.

I crossed my arms to keep them from shaking. Please let the hoodie have left enough scent.

“The scents are mingled,” Thorne admitted, straightening up. “But they are separate. There is no true bond resonance yet. No bite.” He walked back toward us, his cold grey eyes locking onto mine. “Miss Hart. You are a journalist. You make your living exposing lies. Tell me, under penalty of Council law… is this bond real?”

The silence in the room was absolute. I could hear the wind rustling the pine needles outside.

I looked Thorne dead in the eye. I didn’t flinch. I let a small, dry smile touch my lips—the same smile I used when a defensive coordinator tried to lie to my face about a bounty scandal.

“Elder Thorne,” I said, my voice steady, carrying just enough of my natural bite. “If I were going to fake an engagement for money, I’d pick an alpha who doesn’t leave his dirty running socks on the floor and snores like a chainsaw. Chase Bennett is a massive pain in my ass. But he’s my pain in the ass. If you think I’m letting the Voss family take his niece just because we haven’t bitten each other’s necks yet, you’ve seriously misread my columns.”

Chase made a sound—a low, suppressed huff that was half-laugh, half-growl. Beside us, one of the enforcers’ mouths twitched.

Thorne stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. The grey in his eyes seemed to ice over, but he slowly inclined his head. “Your tongue is as sharp as reported, Miss Hart.” He turned back to Chase, his expression hardening. “The Vosses are pushing for an emergency hearing. Marcus Hale has offered to testify against your stability, Chase. He claims to have… personal knowledge of Miss Hart’s true feelings toward you.”

My stomach dropped. Marcus. The rival alpha who had been sniffing around my periphery since college.

Chase’s wolf surged. I felt the physical wave of his alpha command roll off him before he forced his voice to remain level.

“Hale can testify all he wants. The bond is real. Thursday, the bite becomes official. If the Council wants to challenge a fated mate bond, they’re welcome to try.”

“We shall see,” Thorne said, walking past us toward the door. He paused at the threshold, his eyes dropping to the small of my back where Chase’s hand still rested, his fingers splayed against my spine. “The court will convene on Friday morning. If that mark is not on her neck, or if the resonance is weak… the child goes to the Vosses. Good day, Mr. Bennett.”

The front door slammed downstairs a minute later, the wards clicking back into place with a heavy hum.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Chase slowly pulled his hand away from my back, but he didn’t step away. He stood so close I could feel the ragged heat of his breath against my hair. His wolf was practically vibrating under his skin, furious, triggered by Thorne’s threat and Marcus’s name.

“Marcus Hale,” I whispered, staring at the empty doorway. “He’s working with them.”

“He’s a dead man,” Chase growled, his voice dropping into a register so dark it made my skin break out in goosebumps. He turned me to face him, his hands coming up to grip my shoulders—hard, hot, and entirely breaking the rules. His eyes were pure gold. “He’s not touching you, Freya. Do you hear me? He’s not getting near you.”

The air between us, fueled by the threat and the looming full moon, snapped like a dry branch. I looked up at him, my breath hitching, my wolf screaming at me to lean into the heat of his chest.

“Chase,” I breathed, my hands coming up to rest against his chest to keep some distance between us. His heart was hammering against my palms like a trapped bird. “Rule one.”

“To hell with rule one,” he rasped, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

And in the quiet of the room that still smelled like our fake life, the danger outside didn't feel half as terrifying as the man holding me.

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