Chapter 72
Chapter 72:
My fingers curled around the bag. The plastic crinkled loudly in the quiet room. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. But mostly, I felt the terrifying weight of a single realization — no matter how hard I pushed, Dallas Marshall wasn’t going anywhere.
And that frightened me far more than the silver ever had.
When I woke up, the warmth was gone.
The chair where Dallas had kept vigil all night was empty, pushed back against the wall with mathematical precision. The scent of storm and cedar, which had wrapped around me like a protective blanket in the darkness, was now faint, sterile, and distant.
Dallas stood by the window, buttoning the cuffs of a charcoal suit that cost more than my entire life’s earnings. He didn’t look at me. His profile was cut from granite, sharp and unyielding.
“The Pack legal team will be here at noon,” he said. His voice was devoid of the rumble that had vibrated through my chest the night before — this was the voice of the Lycan King addressing a subordinate. “They have the revised terms of your residency. You will review them p>
I sat up, wincing as the movement pulled at my healing throat. “Dallas p>
He turned, but his eyes — those molten gold eyes that had watched me eat gummy bears with such quiet intensity — were now cold, hard coins. He didn’t move to help me. He didn’t check the temperature of my water.
𝗝𝘰і𝗻 t𝗵e 𝗰𝘰𝗺𝗆𝗎𝗻𝗂𝗍𝘆 at.с𝘰𝘮
“A Warrior is stationed outside your door,” he continued, checking his watch. “He has orders to allow no one in without my explicit clearance. Do not leave this suite p>
“Are you leaving p>
The question slipped out, sounding smaller and more pathetic than I intended.
“I have a Pack to run, Adella. And you have a contract to review.” He picked up his coat, his movements fluid and lethal. “Isn’t that what you wanted? To know exactly where you stand on the ledger p>
The words hit me harder than the silver ever had. I had built this wall, brick by brick, with my fear and insecurity. Now Dallas was respecting it perfectly, and I was freezing to death behind it.
He walked out without looking back. The door clicked shut, sealing me in a silence that felt like a tomb.
An hour later, the silence shattered.
I couldn’t mind-link — my wolfless silence kept me deaf to the Pack’s mental chatter — but I didn’t need a wolf to hear the commotion. The elevator chimed down the hall, followed by the heavy thud of bodies colliding and a voice screaming my name.
Braydon.
My heart hammered against my ribs. Azalea burst into the room, looking equal parts panicked and furious.
“That idiot Hyde is in the lobby throwing a tantrum,” she hissed, grabbing the back of a chair. “He’s fighting the Warriors. Screaming that Dad’s holding you prisoner p>
Panic clawed at my throat. Braydon was here? After everything?
“Dad’s down there now,” Azalea added, her voice dropping. “It’s going to get ugly p>
I could only imagine the scene — Braydon Hyde, the spoiled prince of the Hyde Pack, trying to challenge a Lycan King on his own territory. It was suicide.