The dining hall was too loud, too bright, and smelled overwhelmingly of roasted meat and bread.
I was stuck in between my brother's elbow and the brooding mass that was my fiancé, Chase Dubois.
He hadn't spoken a word all evening. Just pushed food around his plate like it had offended him.
Across the table, Talia Goodworm—a young girl from one of the noble families —was practically laying her head on her hand to get a better look at Chase.
I saw it. Everyone saw it. She was everything I was supposed to be: soft, quiet, obsessed with lace patterns and the proper way to pour fucking tea.
And Chase, the miserable bastard, just sat there. Handsome and silent and ignoring me.
I was still angry at him. For how he made me feel.
So to escape. I leaned forward and dropped my voice into my father's conversation about border tariffs with the Lycan King.
I made one sharp, accurate point about grain supply lines and it made the men paused to listen to me.
Lady Alphonse, Talia's mother, gave a tinkling little laugh over my speech. "Oh, Princess, let the men puzzle over such dreary things. It's so unfeminine. It will put your future husband right off his meal."
The table went quiet. My father's eyes flashed in anger, he didn't raise me to be censored in my own dinner table. My mother opened her mouth to rebuke lady Alphonse.
But Chase spoke first.
His voice was calm and clear, and it cut through everything like a knife. He didn't even look up from his plate.
"I know your little mind couldn't possibly wrap around topics like politics," he said, his tone conversational. "But Matilda's beautiful mind would put every man at this table to shame. Including mine. Her depth of understanding amazes me." He finally lifted his eyes, not to Lady Alphonse, but to me. A proud spark was in them. "So if she wants to talk politics, then she's going to fucking talk about politics."
You could have heard a pin drop. Lady Alphonse's smile froze, then melted into a nervous sip of wine.
"Thanks, dipshit," I muttered, my face suddenly hot. "But I'm quite capable of defending myself."
"That's enough from both of you," my father said, but he was hiding a smile. I think he liked that Chase Dubois came to my defense. I believe it's every father's wish to have her husband to be come to her rescue.
The moment passed, but the strange warmth in my chest didn't. I needed space. Space to remain angry. Space, so I don't stare at him openly in public like bread on wheelchair
"Kess, pass the bread," I said, staring straight ahead. Suddenly craving bread.
The bread basket was right in front of Chase. He picked one up and held it out to me.
I ignored his hand. I stood up, walked around the table, and took a roll directly from the basket myself.
All conversation died again. Every eye was on us.
Chase slowly lowered the bread he was still holding. A small, rueful smile touched his lips. "I believe," he announced to the entire stunned table, "I am still in the doghouse with Matilda. I shouldn't have touched the bread with my bare hand. It's unsanitary"
Talia giggled like a competitive raccoon, seeing opportunity to make conversation with him. "Oh, Prince Chase, don't be silly! I would love some bread, if you're offering…"
A hot, possessive bolt shot through me. I didn't even think.
"Take the bread from my fiancé," I said, my voice low and clear. "I dare you, Talia Goodworm."
"Tilly!" my mother gasped. Talia's mother looked horrified. But Mulan Dubois, Chase's mother, just watched with a faint, pleased glint in her eye.
Kessington, the traitor, grabbed a roll and offered it to Talia instead. "Here, ignore the stubborn billy goat I call my sister."
I reached over and pinched his side hard. He yelped and shoved me away. A real smile broke through my anger.
I pushed my heavy chair back, scraping it loudly on the floor, moving it closer to Kess and farther from Chase.
In one smooth, shockingly strong motion, Chase's hand shot out. He grabbed the leg of my chair and pulled. The chair—with me in it—slid effortlessly across the floor, stopping so close to him our shoulders almost touched.
The single act was so sudden, so possessive, and so romantic that my breath caught.
The whole world narrowed to the feel of his arm beside mine.
He turned to me. Gently, ignoring everyone, he reached up and brushed a stray piece of hair that had fallen from my braid. His fingers were careful as he tucked it behind my ear.
His touch was warm and sent a shiver straight down my spine. For a second, there was no one else in the room.
"I know you're angry at me," he whispered, his voice for my ears only. His tired eyes were full of a sincere, aching regret. "I fucked up, Matilda. I should have protected you better"
I looked at him, my heart pounding.
For an Alpha heir to admit fault, even in a whisper, was a monumental thing. It was as far as a public apology could go.
"And?" I whispered back, pushing. I wanted the words. I needed to hear them...in public. In front of his father and mine.
If I was to uproot my life and move to a strange land to be with his perfectly rounded ass, I needed to know that unspoken stupid rules like public apology wouldn't... couldn't come between us.
He held my gaze, the struggle plain on his face. The pride, the duty, warring with the need to make things right.
"And," he said softly, his thumb brushing my cheek once, "I'm going to eat my cold potatoes now."
The spell broke. I shoved back from the table, the chair legs shrieking. "Excuse me," I said to no one in particular, my voice thick in unshed tears.
I turned to leave in a haste.
But before I took a step, his hand closed around my wrist. Not hard, but firm. I looked down. His grip was warm, pleading. His eyes were wide, desperate.
He was silently asking me to stay, to not make him do this here, in front of everyone.
We stared at each other, a whole conversation passing in the silence.
"Let go" I told him.
"Baby..." His voice trailed off.
I was surprised he would even call me that in public...it was against so many rules of proper society
After a heartbeat that felt like a year, his fingers loosened. He let go.
And I walked away, feeling the heat of his gaze on my back until I turned the corner, more confused and tangled up inside than ever.