Chapter 259
Chapter 259:
I gripped my fork until my knuckles went white. There would be no tomorrow. If Volkov was already expected, the trap had long since been sprung. And in this desolate house, miles from anywhere, no one would hear me scream.
The charade of a family reunion dissolved the moment the last plate was cleared. Silas didn’t even let me finish my water before he ushered me into the study, his hand firm on the small of my back—a gesture that felt less like guidance and more like a steer toward the slaughterhouse.
The study smelled of stale cigar smoke and damp paper. Rain lashed against the French doors, matching the chaotic rhythm of my heart. Silas moved behind his massive mahogany desk—a relic of the days when the Thorne Pack had actually mattered—and slid a document toward me.
𝘋𝗶ѕс𝗼𝘃𝖾𝘳 𝘩𝗂𝗱𝖽𝗲n g𝗲mѕ 𝘰n
“Just a formality,” he said, his voice carefully controlled. “A release of the trust your mother left. Since you’ve been away, we need to consolidate the assets to protect the estate p>
I looked down at the paper. The legal jargon was dense, but the intent was unmistakable: a total transfer of guardianship and assets to Silas Thorne.
“I’m not signing this,” I said, pushing the paper back.
“Don’t be difficult, Adella.” Maeve leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed. “You have no wolf. You have no status. You can’t manage an estate p>
“I may be wolfless,” I said, my voice trembling slightly as I rose to my feet, “but I am not without protection. You cannot sell me, Silas. I am the chosen Mate of Dallas Marshall, the Alpha King p>
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then Maeve threw her head back and let out a sharp, barking laugh. “The Alpha King?” she wheezed, pressing a hand to her chest. “You? The broken, wolfless stray p>
Silas didn’t laugh. He leaned over the desk, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, searching for a scent that wasn’t there.
“The Alpha King’s mate,” he repeated, his voice dripping with contempt. “You think blood matters to me, Adella? We are cousins by accident of birth, not by choice. Your mother was my aunt, yes—but she’s been dead for years, and her claim on my loyalty died with her.” He straightened, smoothing his frayed cuffs with theatrical slowness. “Family is a word people use when they want something. Right now, I want to survive. And you, cousin, are the currency that buys my survival p>
“If you were the King’s mate,” he growled, his eyes narrowing to slits, “you would reek of his power. His mark would be on your neck, warning every male to back away. And you would be wearing a ring worth more than this entire Pack p>
My hand flew to my left hand. My thumb brushed the bare skin of my ring finger.
I had left the ring in Blackwood, tucked inside a velvet pouch, terrified that wearing it on public transport would make me a target for thieves. The irony tasted like bile in my throat. My caution had become my condemnation.
“I left it for safety,” I stammered. “I didn’t want to draw attention p>