Chapter 39

Chapter 39:

I put the pill on my tongue. It tasted like chalk and regret.

I drank the water and swallowed.

The moment the pill disappeared down my throat, the golden light in Dallas’s eyes extinguished. It didn’t fade — it died, leaving behind a flat, dark abyss. He flinched, a microscopic movement, as if I had just driven a silver blade between his ribs. Then he took a step back, and the physical distance hit me harder than his anger ever could.

“Done,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I… I fulfilled the contract p>

“The contract,” he repeated, his voice hollow.

Then the stillness shattered.

He surged forward, crashing his body against mine. Before I could gasp, his hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back, and his mouth descended on mine. It wasn’t a kiss of affection — it was a branding, a punishment. But beneath the bruised force of his lips, I tasted something desperate and agonizing, a furious attempt to prove he was real, that his claim was more than ink on paper. He tasted of fury and heartbreak.

𝗙𝗂ո𝘥 𝗻о𝗏𝖾l рD𝖥𝘴 on 𝗀𝗮ln𝗼𝘃е𝗹ѕ.𝖼𝘰𝘮

Just as my knees buckled, he pulled back, his lips hovering millimeters from my ear.

“You have your victory today, Adella,” he rasped, the vibration traveling straight down my spine. “But hear me. Next time, there will be no pill. There will be no contract. There will only be my mark on your neck and my pup in your belly p>

He released me abruptly, leaving me gasping and cold against the counter. Without a backward glance, he turned and walked out of the kitchen, darkness trailing behind him like a cloak.

Dinner was a funeral for the living.

The dining room, usually elegant and inviting, felt like a tomb. Azalea sat across from me, picking at her roasted chicken, her usual vibrancy dampened by the suffocating tension radiating from the head of the table.

Dallas sat there like a king on a throne of ice. He hadn’t looked at me once since we sat down. His attention was entirely consumed by the tablet beside his plate, his finger scrolling through Pack reports with mechanical efficiency. He ate in silence, the clinking of his silverware against the china sounding like sword strikes in the quiet room.

“The summit is coming up.” Azalea’s voice was small and wavering. She looked between Dallas and me, her eyes wide with anxiety. “Are we… are we still going early p>

Dallas didn’t look up. “Yes p>

The single word fell flat, offering no opening for conversation. Azalea bit her lip and looked down at her plate, defeated.

I couldn’t stand it. The silence was a physical weight pressing on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I had taken the pill to regain control, to protect myself — but sitting here, ignored and isolated by the man who was supposed to be my Mate, I felt more powerless than ever.