Chapter 210
Chapter 210:
Dallas exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. The oppressive weight lifted, but the tension remained. “She is a handful,” he muttered, eyeing the tray of cookies with thinly veiled disdain. “She needs discipline p>
I watched him — seeing not just the King, but the man beneath. Frustrated, clumsy with emotion, and utterly blind to what was right in front of him.
“She doesn’t need discipline, Dallas,” I said softly.
He looked at me, his guard rising. “Are you questioning my parenting p>
“I’m questioning your methods.” I took a step toward him, ignoring the warning bells in my head. “She didn’t run away because she hates work. She ran away because the Penthouse is cold. It smells like… like sadness. Like broken glass and old whiskey p>
Dallas flinched. It was microscopic, but I saw it.
𝗧h𝘦 𝘣es𝘁 𝘳е𝘷iеw𝘴 𝘰n
“She comes here because it’s warm,” I continued, gesturing to the flour-dusted counter and the cooling rack of cookies. “She doesn’t need a King, Dallas. She needs a father. She needs a den, not a fortress p>
He studied me, his gaze intense, searching my face for any sign of deceit. “Are you pleading for her so she can skip her lessons p>
I shook my head and held his gaze. “I’m not pleading for her. I’m pleading for this family p>
The word hung in the air between us.
Family.
Something in Dallas’s expression fractured. The hard lines around his mouth softened, and the cold calculation in his eyes gave way to a hunger I hadn’t seen before — not desire, but something more primal. Possessive and deeply, quietly satisfied.
“Family,” he repeated, testing the weight of the word on his tongue. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. “You’re right, Adella. A family is exactly what we need p>
He reached out and trailed a knuckle down my cheek. I leaned into the touch, relieved that I had finally gotten through to him — completely unaware that I had just handed him the key to my own cage.
Dallas
The apartment was a joke. A pristine, well-decorated shoe box that smelled intoxicatingly of vanilla, sugar, and her — my Moonflower.
I sat at the small dining table, my knees nearly bumping against the wood. Adella sat across from me, picking at her pasta. She looked like a queen in exile, trying to make a kingdom out of a closet.
She belongs in the fortress. In our bed, Ragnar growled at the back of my mind, pacing restlessly. He hated this place. It was too open, too far from the Pack’s heart, and worst of all — it wasn’t ours. It was hers alone.
“You’re being too hard on her, Dallas,” Adella said, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but there was steel in her spine. “Freezing her trust fund? She’s just a child acting out p>
I set my fork down, the metal clinking sharply against the ceramic. “A child?” I raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what my ‘child’ bought with that trust fund yesterday p>
Adella blinked, caught off guard. “Clothes? A trip p>