Chapter 488

A wave of pure nausea washed over me. Dallas had given me back Moonstone Creek—the heart of my parents’ land, the manor where I was born. But the Everett estate was more than one property. There were scattered acres, historical trusts, old debts the Hydes had been leveraging for years—assets my parents had accumulated over a lifetime, tangled in legal red tape that Braydon had been quietly buying up. Moonstone Creek was mine. The rest of my legacy was still a weapon in his hand. He couldn’t stand that I was building a life outside his cage, so he was using the Everett Trust as a leash, trying to terrify me into crawling back to him for “protection.”

“Everything alright, Adella?” Finn asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. He had noticed the sudden pallor of my face.

I forced a tight smile and flipped the phone face-down on the scarred wood. “Fine, Finn. Just a persistent telemarketer. A leech that doesn’t know when to quit.” I picked up my restoration brush, my grip white-knuckled. I was done being a pawn. Braydon Hyde would never control me again.

By lunchtime, I needed fresh air. I found a weathered bench beneath a massive ancient oak on the edge of campus, unwrapped a simple turkey sandwich, and closed my eyes, letting the weak winter sun warm my face.

The peace didn’t last.

A prickling sensation crawled up the back of my neck—the kind of instinct you develop when you’ve spent too long looking over your shoulder. I opened my eyes, my gaze sweeping the campus.

Parked in the deep shadows of the library building across the street was a black, unmarked bulletproof SUV. Its windows were tinted so dark they looked like obsidian. It wasn’t Dallas’s flashy Maybach, nor did it carry the arrogant, aggressive posture of Anson Fowler’s convoy.

But it was watching me.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Were they Braydon’s men? I strained my eyes, trying to make out any detail, but the windows were impenetrable.

I stood abruptly, clutching my half-eaten sandwich. The moment I moved, the SUV’s engine purred to life. It pulled away from the curb without a sound, disappearing into the city traffic like a ghost.

I let out a shaky breath and rubbed my temples. Paranoia, I told myself. Just the trauma playing tricks on me.

Dallas’s POV

The hiss of the oxygen tank was the only sound inside the armored SUV.

I leaned heavily against the plush leather backseat, a clear plastic mask strapped over my nose and mouth, fogging with every shallow, ragged breath. The mechanical whir of the LVAD pump in my chest vibrated against my ribs—a constant reminder of the silver rot devouring my Lycan soul.

Through the heavily tinted glass, I watched Adella pack up her lunch and hurry back toward the archives. Even in a simple oversized sweater, she was the most breathtaking creature the Moon Goddess had ever created. And she was terrified. Because of me.

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