Greyson POV
Mulan caught up to me halfway across the courtyard.
"Greyson." Her voice was sharp. Urgent. The kind of tone that used to freeze my blood when I was a child. "Greyson, stop."
I didn't stop. Kept walking. My boots echoed off the stone.
"Your father saw," she said, falling into step beside me.
"Everyone saw, mother" I answered causally.
"The way you looked at her. The—" She swallowed. "The hand on her neck. In front of everyone, Greyson. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"No, Mother" I stopped walking briefly. "Just quite the opposite actually. I was trying to live for once in my miserable life"
"You shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have defiled your father—"
"Well, I wanted to!"
I started walking again.
She grabbed my arm. Yanked me to a halt. Her face was pale. Her eyes were wide with something that looked like fear—but not for herself. For me.
"He's going to punish you for this. You know that, don't you? When we get home—"
"I know."
"Then why? Why would you do this?"
I knew her heart was breaking. If it was any consolation, mine was breaking too.
"Because I got tired, Mama." I exhaled. Suddenly exhausted.
I looked at my mother. This woman who had spent her whole life swallowing her own voice. Who had stood by while my father broke pieces off all of us. Who loved me—I knew she loved me—but had never once understood me.
"I got tired of being afraid. Got tired of being tired, Mama. Some things are bigger than fear, Luna." I said quietly,
"He's going to—"
"There's nothing left for him to take, Mother. And I'm fresh out of fucks to give"
Mulan flinched.
"Grey—"
"Aren't you tired too? Living life like it belongs to him. Afraid to make a sound. Afraid to live. Well, I'm tired of it. Alpha Kale can go fuck himself!" I pulled my arm free. "The worse he can do is knock me around. Well, let him"
"Walk faster." She glanced over her shoulder, toward the arena where Kale was still surrounded by nobles. "We can leave before he—"
"No."
"Greyson—"
"He'll punish me anyway." My voice was flat. Certain. "So I might as well give him a reason."
I turned.
"Where are you going?"
I didn't answer. I was already moving—striding across the courtyard, past the stunned servants, past the whispering nobles, toward the archway where Tilly's figure was disappearing into the shadow of the castle.
"Greyson!" My mother's voice, desperate now. "Greyson, don't!"
I didn't stop.
I caught Tilly at the foot of the stairs.
Her back was to me. Her hand on the railing. Electra a few steps ahead with her mouth hanging open. Tilly was already turning—hearing my footsteps, sensing something—but I didn't wait for her to face me.
I grabbed her arm. Spun her around. And kissed her. Right there for everyone to see.
Her mouth was softer than I remembered. Warmer.
She made a sound against my lips—shock, maybe. Or surprise. I didn't care which. I liked it.
I fisted my hand in the front of her dress, pulling her up onto her toes. My other hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place.
She didn't push me away.
That was it. That was the moment I almost broke.
She didn't push me away.
The world had narrowed to this. The taste of her. The heat of her. The way she fit against me like she'd been made for me.
I kissed her like it was the last thing I'd ever do.
Because it might be.
When I finally pulled back, she was breathless. Her lips were parted. Her eyes were wide and dark and confused. Her hand was still raised, like she'd been about to touch my chest and forgotten how.
I kept my hand on her neck. Kept her close. Kept her captive for one more heartbeat.
"That," I said, my voice rough, "is going to be the best kiss you will ever have."
She blinked. "What?"
"You're going to stay awake for years thinking about that kiss." I held her gaze. Let her see everything I couldn't say. "My kiss. You're going to lie in bed at night and wonder what would have happened if things were different. If I was different. If we had met under different names."
"Chase—"
I shook my head. Just once.
"Remember that," I said. "Remember me"
I let go.
Took a step back.
Her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes were glassy. Confused. I could see it. I could always see everything when it came to her.
"Chase?"
She frowned.
"Careful. Any more frowns and I might actually think you are in love with me"
"In love with you?" She chuckled sarcastically. "I want you dead, remember. I say the prayer every night.You mean nothing to me, Chase Dubois"
I think the hardest part was seeing through her. Seeing her lie.
I blinked. And told the truth "Well, you mean everything to me, Temmy Winchester"
"It's Tilly, dummy" But her voice was softer.
Her face changed. Her breathe hitched.
It wasn't fair. It really wasn't.
So, I spared her the knowledge of just how deep I felt for her. "Well, you mean almost everything to me"
So, she closed her eyes and did the most Tilly thing she could ever do. She said her prayer. Loudly, I might add.
Thunder from the east, south, West and north, strike my dear husband to be right at this spot. Amen.
It rhymed. It made me laugh out loud. It made me break a little too.
Which was weird. Villains don't break.
****
Tilly POV
I loved his smile.
When did that happen? When did I start loving anything about him?
"Did you just wish me dead?" He asked.
"Look at that." I smiled. "You actually pay attention."
"Careful, Princess." He beamed. "Don't go breaking your own heart now."
"My heart?" I laughed, the sound brittle. "Like I would ever fall for an egocentric whore like you."
He stopped a few feet away. Close enough that I could see the sweat on his temples, the rise and fall of his chest, the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. Close enough that everything else seemed to fade.
I waited for him to say something Chase-like. Pompous. Annoying.
"You could have competed, you know," he said, surprising me. "I'm told you're quite good."
"I am good. I'm the best rider in this kingdom. Ask anyone." A pause. "Anyone except Kessington. He's delusional."
"And yet here you are. Simply watching while I break every one of your records."
"Here I am. Unimpressed."
His smile widened. "You're a terrible liar, my girl"
Something warm unfurled in my chest. Hearing him call me that, hear him claim me, My girl—not Winchester, not little Princess. Like he was finally done with whatever game we were playing.
"You are..." I started, my voice steadier than I felt. "You're exactly what I thought you were, Chase Dubois."
"The whore of Troita?" He raised an eyebrow, amused "The rake? A charmer?"
"Complex," I said. "Good. Redeemable. Incredibly sweet"
He blinked. Like he hadn't expected that. Then he ran a hand through his hair and smiled—awkward, almost shy.
"Hush girl," he whispered. "Don't blow my cover."
I took a step closer to him. I blurted out my first thought.
"Do you care about me?"
The question came out before I could stop it. I'd never asked anyone that before. Never wanted to know the answer.
He took a step closer. I didn't move.
"You're the only one who gets any of my fucks at all," he said. "Medium or otherwise."
The words hit like a punch. I opened my mouth—but nothing came out.
"You did well," I managed, changing the subject like the coward I was. "The course. It was... impressive."
"High praise from the best rider in the kingdom."
"Don't let it go to your head."
"Too late." He grinned, and for a moment he looked almost boyish. Almost genuine.
We stood there, the sun hot on our shoulders, the space between us charged with something I couldn't name.
I wanted to hit him. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to drag him behind the nearest tent and let him be Chase and do wicked things to me.
Instead, I said, "You should go. Your admirers must be lurking somewhere. Don't let me keep you."
Something flickered across his face.
"Let them wait."
"Chase—"
"I watched you today." His voice dropped. "Every race. Every heat. Every time I thought no one was looking." He stepped closer. I stepped back. My spine hit the fence. He braced his hands on either side of my head, his body a wall of heat. "Do you want to know what I saw?"
My heart was going to pound out of my chest. "No."
"If I could be different—if I knew how all this could be different—I change it. For you, Tilly Ann."
"Chase—"
"If this was another story," he said, his voice rough, "you would be my beginning"
"Chase..."
He kissed. This time longer. More passionate. The best from standing Chase.
When we pull apart, I was close to tears.
"You're going to break my heart, aren't you?."
Something in his face shifted. The smile faded. His eyes went dark and serious, and for a moment—just a moment—he looked almost human.
"I know," he said quietly. "But if it's any consolation, I'll break mine right back."
I didn't have an answer for that.
He leaned in. His lips grazed mine—featherlight, barely there. I thought he would deepen it. He didn't. He pulled back instead.
"Stay crazy, okay?" He said, backing away "Don't change. Not for anyone."
"Are you dying or something?"
He walked backward a few steps, that wicked smile returning, his eyes never leaving mine.
"And give you the satisfaction of dancing on my grave? Nah." He almost stepped forward but changed his mind halfway. "Got to go. I have dragon-blood girls to console. Reputation to uphold. Some whoring to do"
He turned and disappeared behind the remaining tents.
I stayed against the fence, my heart pounding, my face hot, my hands shaking.
"You're in trouble," Jovina said from somewhere behind me.
She was right.
"I know," I whispered