Chapter 444
“Freeze all Vance family assets immediately,” I ordered, my voice ringing with absolute authority. “Pending a full internal investigation into illegal financial ties with rival Packs.”
I switched back to Clarissa’s open channel. “Clarissa, you have one hour to present yourself to the Gamma for interrogation. Or I will declare your entire bloodline traitors to this Pack.”
The malicious amusement on the other end vanished, replaced by a sharp gasp of pure terror before the line went dead.
A heavy knock sounded at the door. Duncan Whitaker stepped in, his face carved from pale stone, and handed me a black folder sealed with Marshall blood wax.
“The Alpha King has been MIA for twelve hours,” Duncan stated, his voice hollow. “The Blood Decree is active. You have absolute control of all non-military Pack affairs, Luna Regent.”
My hands trembled as I broke the wax seal. Inside, beneath the legal transfers, lay a handwritten letter from Dallas. His jagged handwriting blurred through my tears as I read his final, agonizing confession. He truly believed his inner beast, Ragnar, would eventually destroy me. Braydon may be a snake, but he will keep you caged and safe. I am the storm that will drown you. Go to him.
“You absolute idiot,” I whispered, crushing the parchment against my chest. He was trying to save me by handing me over to my greatest enemy.
Then the massive wall screen flared to life. An emergency broadcast from RogueNet hijacked the feed.
The footage was shaky, showing a dusty, war-torn road in Beirut. In the center of the frame sat a burning, twisted wreck of a black SUV. The matte-black, V-shaped bullbar on the front was unmistakable. It was Dallas’s vehicle.
Duncan’s breath hitched. “Satellite comms are completely dead.”
The comms console crackled again. Clarissa, emboldened by the horrific broadcast, shrieked with manic, triumphant joy. “The King is dead, Adella! My father will take back what is —”
A primal, agonizing roar ripped from my throat — a sound so raw and violent it didn’t belong to a wolfless girl. I grabbed the heavy moonstone sculpture from the desk, the very symbol of my first meeting with Dallas, and hurled it with everything I had.
The crystal shattered against the massive screen, raining glass and sparks across the mahogany desk.
“He is NOT dead!” I screamed into the comms, my chest heaving. The line cut off abruptly, silencing Clarissa mid-sentence.
I turned to the Beta. “Duncan, get me a plane.”
Duncan slowly shook his head, his eyes filled with grief. “I can’t. The injunction — I am bound by his Alpha’s Command to keep you grounded.”
I didn’t waste time arguing with a man chained by loyalty. I grabbed an untraceable burner phone from the desk drawer and dialed the serpent sitting just outside the study doors. Braydon answered on the first ring, his tone dripping with mock sympathy.
“Did you see the news, Addie? I told you he would —”
“Shut up,” I snarled. “I want a fully fueled, untraceable jet at the Blackstone Private Airfield in exactly one hour.”