Chapter 498
The realization didn’t bring relief; it ignited a furious inferno in my chest. Dallas wasn’t pushing me away because he was a broken, impotent king. He was using this pathetic rumor as a shield to hide something else—something darker. And he actually believed I was too weak, too fragile to handle whatever truth he was burying.
Anson mistook my stunned silence for heartbreak. “He pushed you away out of shame,” he continued smoothly. “Join me, Adella. I can give you the protection a broken king never could.”
Anson snapped his fingers. From the shadows of the alleyway, a massive man with cold, dead eyes stepped forward.
“Kael,” Anson ordered his Gamma, not taking his eyes off me. “Dig into Marshall’s neurological records from the last three years. Find the proof of his silver toxicity. I want that rumor verified.”
A wave of pure nausea washed over me. I looked at Anson and saw nothing but a scavenger picking at bones.
“You disgust me,” I spat, stepping around him.
I didn’t look back as I walked away. My hands were trembling, not from fear, but from a profound, righteous anger. Vance Decker’s wedding was in two days. Dallas would be there. And I was going to take a sledgehammer to the walls of lies he had built around himself.
Dallas POV
The rhythmic, mechanical hum of the silver-toxin blood purifier was the only sound in Dr. Alistair Vance’s private clinic. I watched the dark, poisoned blood cycle out of my arm, run through the humming filters, and pump back into my failing veins.
I was so damn tired.
The heavy oak door clicked open, and my Beta, Duncan Whitaker, stepped inside. His face was grim, the shadows under his eyes mirroring my own.
“Alpha,” Duncan said, his voice low. “Anson Fowler’s Gamma, Kael, is poking around. He’s actively searching for neurological records related to your Lycan’s functionality. He’s trying to prove the rumor.”
A dry, hollow chuckle scraped its way up my throat. Dr. Vance, who was adjusting the IV drip, paused and frowned at me.
“It seems Yara’s little rumor to cover my lack of interest in her is paying off,” I murmured, leaning my head back against the sterile pillows.
“We need to shut it down immediately,” Duncan insisted, his jaw tight. “If Fowler finds anything—”
“Let him,” I interrupted, my voice weak but laced with absolute, unquestionable authority.
Duncan blinked, stunned. “Sir?”
“Feed it to them, Duncan. Forge the medical files. Let Kael find ‘proof’ that the silver permanently severed my connection to Ragnar. Let them believe I can never Mark a Luna.”
Dr. Vance dropped his clipboard. “Dallas, are you insane? If the Elders see that, they will strip you of your crown. You will be a laughingstock. It will destroy your reputation as an Alpha.”
I slowly turned my head toward the nightstand. Sitting next to the beeping heart monitor was a small, framed photograph. It was Adella, standing in the gardens of Moonpetal Lake Manor, her head thrown back in a radiant, carefree laugh. The silver light of the moonpetals illuminated her beautiful face.
My chest tightened with an agony that had nothing to do with the silver in my blood.