Chapter 422
Lena POV
The thick carpet of Marshall Tower’s highest floor absorbed my footsteps without a sound. It was the morning after the explosive Elders Council, and I was finally delivering the compiled, encrypted meeting minutes to the Alpha King’s suite.
The private corridor was eerily quiet, its soft beige walls lined with abstract art. At the far end stood the brushed stainless-steel double doors, flanked by two Pack Warriors posing as stern executive assistants. The air carried a faint trace of antiseptic, mingling with the weakened, storm-and-cedar scent of Dallas’s healing aura.
I clutched the tablet to my chest. After Adella’s brilliant takedown of Pippa the day before, my heart swelled with a profound sense of hope. We had protected the Founding Covenant. We had won.
“Lena.”
A soft, tense voice broke my reverie just before I reached the final security checkpoint. Dr. Liam Barber stepped out from a secluded alcove near the elevators.
I gasped, taking a step back. Liam was usually the calmest presence in the Pack — his bedside manner impeccable, his composure unshakeable — but the man standing before me looked entirely broken. He clearly hadn’t slept. His usual grounding scent of clean linen had soured into something sharp and metallic, laced with pure desperation.
Before I could ask what was wrong, he grabbed my elbow and pulled me into the semi-private alcove, out of the Warriors’ line of sight.
“Liam? What are you doing?” I whispered, my pulse spiking.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up a physical manila folder from the low table between the high-backed armchairs and shoved it into my hands.
A top-secret, red-stamped document stared up at me from the open page. It was a psychological evaluation dating back to Dallas’s time in the elite Dire Guard.
My eyes scanned the cold, clinical text, my breath catching in my throat.
Subject exhibits severe loss of control… incident resulted in civilian casualties… extreme violence… unfit for civilian integration.
“Where did you get this?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Braydon Hyde,” Liam choked out, running a shaking hand over his face. “He found out about a surgery I performed years ago. A mistake I covered up to save a young wolf’s career. He’s threatening to expose me to the medical board and the Council if I don’t hand over Dallas’s complete psych file within twenty-four hours.”
The blood drained from my face. Braydon had found the one weakness our most trusted doctor possessed.
“Why are you showing me this?” I asked, cold dread settling in my stomach.
“Because you have Adella’s ear,” Liam said, his eyes dark with agony. “I can’t walk in there and face Dallas. Tell her I want a trade. I need untraceable funds and a private jet fueled and ready to fly to non-Pack territory by tonight. The Council’s next session is in twenty hours — if Braydon gets the file before then, he’ll present it publicly. I’m out of time. If she convinces Dallas to give me the resources to start over somewhere Braydon can’t reach me, he keeps his secrets.”
“And if he refuses?”