Chapter 440

I was too broken to question her, though I noticed her trembling hands. Dallas didn’t even blink. He wheeled past her as though she were a ghost, heading straight for his study and shutting the heavy oak door with a definitive click.

Dallas POV

The darkness of the study was a welcome shroud. I gripped the edge of my desk, my chest tearing open from the inside. Rejecting her was a slow, agonizing death.

I opened a secure mind-link to my Beta. He’s moved up his timeline, Duncan. He’s waiting for me at the docks. Good. This ends tonight.

Duncan’s panic flooded my mind instantly. My King, it’s a trap. The intel is clear.

I severed the link. A violent cough wracked my body, and I spat a mouthful of dark blood onto the Syrian border map spread across the desk. The unhealed wounds and the severed bond were killing me, but I only needed to survive long enough to take Estevan Parrish to hell with me.

Adella POV

I was too broken to question her, though I noticed her trembling hands. Dallas didn’t even blink. He wheeled past her as though she were a ghost, heading straight for his study and shutting the heavy oak door with a definitive click.

Dallas POV

The darkness of the study was a welcome shroud. I gripped the edge of my desk, my chest tearing open from the inside. Rejecting her was a slow, agonizing death.

I opened a secure mind-link to my Beta. He’s moved up his timeline, Duncan. He’s waiting for me at the docks. Good. This ends tonight.

Duncan’s panic flooded my mind instantly. My King, it’s a trap. The intel is clear.

I severed the link. A violent cough wracked my body, and I spat a mouthful of dark blood onto the Syrian border map spread across the desk. The unhealed wounds and the severed bond were killing me, but I only needed to survive long enough to take Estevan Parrish to hell with me.

Adella POV

3:14 AM.

The faint click of the front door jolted me awake. Dallas? I scrambled out of the guest room, my bare feet slapping against the cold hardwood. The living room was empty.

A terrible instinct pulled me to Azalea’s room. The bed was perfectly made. The closet doors hung open, every hanger bare. The suitcase was gone. On the nightstand, beside a black Amex card, lay a torn piece of notebook paper.

I’m going to find someone who can fix what’s broken. Take care of Dad. He needs you, even if he’s too stupid to admit it.

Liam Barber. The Healer. She had gone after him alone.

Pure panic overrode my heartbreak. I sprinted down the hall to the study and hammered my fists against the heavy oak door. “Dallas! Open the door!”

The door swung inward, and the breath left my lungs.

Dallas stood before me — not in his wheelchair, but fully strapped in black Dire Guard tactical gear. A holster fastened to his thigh held a silver-bladed dagger. He looked like a king stepping onto a battlefield, dressed and ready to die.

“Azalea is gone,” I screamed, shoving the crumpled note against his armored chest.

“Azalea is gone,” I screamed, shoving the crumpled note against his armored chest.

Dallas snatched the paper, his storm-gray eyes scanning her handwriting. He flipped it over, his gaze locking onto the single name scrawled on the back: Liam.

The color instantly drained from his face. The lethal, suicidal fury that had been radiating from him vanished, replaced by a cold, paralyzing dread.

“Duncan,” Dallas barked into the empty room, his eyes glazing over as he forced a mind-link to his Beta. “Track Azalea’s phone. Now.”

He looked down at me, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked beneath his skin. “Liam Barber isn’t just a Pack doctor, Adella. He was my lead medic in the Dire Guard. An expert in silver nerve damage. He exiled himself to Beirut years ago — a gray zone completely controlled by ruthless Rogues.”

Before I could process the shock of Liam’s hidden past, Dallas stiffened, receiving Duncan’s report through the link.

.

The faint click of the front door jolted me awake. Dallas? I scrambled out of the guest room, my bare feet slapping against the cold hardwood. The living room was empty.

A terrible instinct pulled me to Azalea’s room. The bed was perfectly made. The closet doors hung open, every hanger bare. The suitcase was gone. On the nightstand, beside a black Amex card, lay a torn piece of notebook paper.

I’m going to find someone who can fix what’s broken. Take care of Dad. He needs you, even if he’s too stupid to admit it.

Liam Barber. The Healer. She had gone after him alone.

Pure panic overrode my heartbreak. I sprinted down the hall to the study and hammered my fists against the heavy oak door. “Dallas! Open the door!”

The door swung inward, and the breath left my lungs.

Dallas stood before me — not in his wheelchair, but fully strapped in black Dire Guard tactical gear. A holster fastened to his thigh held a silver-bladed dagger. He looked like a king stepping onto a battlefield, dressed and ready to die.

“Azalea is gone,” I screamed, shoving the crumpled note against his armored chest.

“Azalea is gone,” I screamed, shoving the crumpled note against his armored chest.

Dallas snatched the paper, his storm-gray eyes scanning her handwriting. He flipped it over, his gaze locking onto the single name scrawled on the back: Liam.

The color instantly drained from his face. The lethal, suicidal fury that had been radiating from him vanished, replaced by a cold, paralyzing dread.

“Duncan,” Dallas barked into the empty room, his eyes glazing over as he forced a mind-link to his Beta. “Track Azalea’s phone. Now.”

He looked down at me, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked beneath his skin. “Liam Barber isn’t just a Pack doctor, Adella. He was my lead medic in the Dire Guard. An expert in silver nerve damage. He exiled himself to Beirut years ago — a gray zone completely controlled by ruthless Rogues.”

Before I could process the shock of Liam’s hidden past, Dallas stiffened, receiving Duncan’s report through the link.