Tilly Ann
The final event was the obstacle course—a grueling gauntlet of fire hoops, tight spirals, and precision landings that separated the skilled riders from the merely competent. For a moment, I really thought I was going to get my wish. He was going to get himself killed.
I said nothing.
Chase was the last to run. He gathered the rope, ready to go, and I saw it: the same reckless grin he'd worn before mounting Emperor. The same look that said he had nothing to lose.
Something in me snapped.
"Chase!" I screamed his name.
He turned instantly. Not slowly, not reluctantly—instantly. Like he'd been waiting for my voice.
For a long moment, we simply stared at each other. The crowd murmured, confused. The other riders looked between us. I couldn't breathe.
Then, without looking away, he dropped the rope. Dust puffed where it landed. He conceded. He actually conceded—pulled himself from the final event, handed victory to his opponent, all because I'd called his name.
I blinked. I couldn't believe he obeyed. Couldn't believe he conceded.
"Winchester!" he called across the arena.
I looked at him, my heart pounding so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.
"All you ever needed to do was ask."
I looked away instantly. My face was on fire. My hands were shaking. The crowd was buzzing—whispers spreading like wildfire through the stands. Did you see that? He conceded. For her. The princess called and he stopped.
I didn't know what to do with any of it.
He dismounted in a spray of dust, his face flushed with exertion, his shirt clinging to his chest. The blonde from earlier was there with water. The brunette had a cloth. The redhead was already reaching for his arm.
And I—
I was standing at the edge of the competitor's area, my fists still clenched from fear, my heart still pounding, my eyes still fixed on him.
He didn't look at me again.
He let the blonde touch his arm. He let the brunette hand him water. He laughed at something the redhead said, his head tilted back, his smile easy and warm, and I watched him disappear into the crowd of women who had never called him a whore, never punched him in the face, never wished him dead.
He gave me one moment. One concession. One line that would replay in my head for days.
All you ever needed to do was ask.
And then he went back to pretending I didn't exist.
I stayed at the edge of the arena long after the crowd dispersed. Electra came to find me eventually, her face soft with something I didn't want to name.
"Tilly—"
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
"I will be."
She didn't argue. She just stood beside me, silent, as the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon. The tournament grounds emptied. The banners drooped. The roasted meat stands packed up their wares.
And somewhere across the field, I heard Chase Dubois laugh again.
I closed my eyes and counted to ten.
When I opened them, he was gone. The blonde was gone. The brunette, the redhead, the cheering crowd—all of them, gone.
Just me and the empty arena and the echo of his voice.
All you ever needed to do was ask.
Ask what? I wanted to scream. Ask you to stop? Ask you to look at me? Ask you to be the man who touched me like I mattered, instead of the man who couldn't even meet my eyes?
I didn't know.
I didn't know anything anymore.
Two days, I told myself. Two days to get Chase Dubois out of my head.
I failed.
"Careful, Winchester. Any more frowns and people will start gossiping about my wife being the jealous type"
He looked up. For the first time all day, his eyes found mine. That slow, wicked smile spread across his face—the one that made my stomach flip and my blood boil in equal measure.
"Jealous?" I scoffed "I'm observant. There's a difference."
"Is there?" He took the cloth from the brunette with a murmured thanks, wiped his face, and walked toward me. The crowd seemed to part around him, drawn and repelled in equal measure.
"Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've been watching me all day. Don't deny it. " He said, smug as a peacock.
"Listen to me" I told him, taking a step forward. "You mean nothing to me, Chase Dubois"
He blinked. "Well, that's sad. You mean everything to me, little princess." He held my gaze, a devilish smile appearing. "Well, almost everything"
I closed my eyes and I made a little prayer.
Thunder from the east, south, West and north, strike my dear husband to be right at this spot. Amen.
I have no idea why it rhymed. But it about summed up how I felt about Chase Dubois.