Chapter 240

Chapter 240:

“I can smell him on you,” he sneered, his lip curling. “That metallic tang—ozone and blood. The scent of that Lycan.” He spat the word like a curse. “It’s filth, Adella. You reek of a beast. But I can forgive you. I can cleanse you.” He reached for me, his fingers twitching. “Come back to the Manor. I’ll wash his scent off you. I’ll make you pure again p>

Pure.

The word snapped the last thread of my restraint. The sheer audacity—the delusion of this man—ignited a fire in my veins that burned hotter than fear. I thought of Dallas: his fierce protection, his gentle hands, the way he looked at me as though I were the only real thing in the world. Dallas didn’t want me pure. He wanted me real. He wanted me safe.

And for the first time, I understood that I didn’t just want his protection. I wanted him.

J𝗼𝗂n 𝘵𝗵𝘦 𝖼𝘰𝘮𝗆𝘂ոі𝘵𝗒 а𝘁

“I don’t want to be pure, Braydon,” I said, my voice steady and cold. “And I don’t want you p>

“You don’t mean that,” he hissed, grabbing my wrist.

“I do,” I said, wrenching my arm back. “I love him. Dallas. He is my Mate p>

The confession hung in the air, absolute and undeniable.

Braydon froze. Then his face contorted. “Liar!” he shrieked, raising his hand to strike me.

The blow never landed.

The air in the lobby shifted suddenly, growing heavy and charged with a static electricity that raised the hair along my arms. The scent of ozone, cedar, and terrifying power flooded the space, drowning out Braydon’s sour stench entirely.

A hand—massive, tanned, and adorned with a heavy gold signet ring and a simple wedding band—clamped onto Braydon’s shoulder.

It wasn’t just a grip. It was a sentence.

Braydon gasped, his eyes widening in terror as he was held in place by a force far greater than anything he possessed. I looked up, my breath catching in my throat, and saw the dark suit, the broad chest, and the lethal calm of the predator standing behind him.

The King had arrived to claim his Queen.

Dallas

The moment her voice tore through the lobby, the beast inside me stopped pacing. He didn’t just hear it; he felt it vibrate through our very marrow. It was a claim. A public, undeniable brand of ownership.

But then I saw his hands on her.

Braydon Hyde. The man who had tormented her for a decade. The man whose sour, fearful scent was currently polluting the air around my Queen.

Rage—cold and absolute—flooded my veins.

I didn’t just grab him. I erased his existence from her personal space. With a snarl that rumbled deep in my chest, I ripped Braydon away from Adella and slammed him against the nearest marble pillar.

The sound of stone fracturing echoed through the silent lobby. A decorative vase on a nearby pedestal shattered from the vibration, the crash amplifying the sudden violence.

“G-get off me!” Braydon choked, his feet dangling inches above the floor. His eyes bulged, shifting frantically between human and wolf, but his inner beast was already whimpering, cowering before the predator that held him.

I leaned in, letting my scent—ozone, cedar, and the terrifying weight of a Lycan storm—saturate the air and drown out his pathetic Alpha aura.

“You touch what is mine,” I whispered, the words low and lethal, “and you forfeit the hand that does it p>