Chapter 504
Footsteps thundered from the hidden room. Gamma Vance Decker and Dr. Alistair Vance sprinted out, their faces pale with panic. Vance’s expression flickered with guilt as he took in the scene—his new bride’s lie, the trap that had led me here—but there was no time for explanations.
“Code Blue! Get the crash cart now!” Dr. Vance shouted into his radio, dropping to his knees beside us.
Chaos erupted in the narrow corridor, but I couldn’t hear the shouting. I just buried my face in the crook of Dallas’s neck, feeling the terrifyingly faint flutter of his pulse against my own, swearing to the Moon Goddess that I would never let him go again.
The chaotic blur of the corridor faded into the biting night air as paramedics rushed Dallas’s stretcher toward the waiting armored medical SUV. His storm-gray eyes were closed, his massive chest barely rising. I sprinted after them, my hands still stained with his feverish blood, desperate to stay by his side.
Suddenly, a wall of solid muscle blocked my path. Gamma Vance Decker stood between me and the SUV, his expression carved from stone.
“Move, Vance. I’m going with him,” I pleaded, trying to push past his massive frame.
He didn’t even look down at me, his eyes scanning the dark perimeter. “Luna, this vehicle is now a military target,” he stated, his voice a cold, unyielding Gamma command. “The Alpha King’s last conscious order was your safety. You will be taken to a secure location.”
“No! He needs me!” I screamed, my voice cracking.
Vance gestured to a team of Warriors. Strong hands grabbed my arms, guiding me toward an unmarked black sedan. I slammed my fists against the tinted window, sobbing as the SUV’s red sirens bled into the night, swallowing my fated mate into the darkness.
Dallas POV
Three hours later.
Every breath felt like inhaling shattered glass. The silver toxin purifier hummed beside my bed in Dr. Alistair Vance’s private clinic, filtering the poison from my veins, but it wasn’t enough. I was dying.
Yet the beast inside me refused to rest. Ragnar clawed at my skull, roaring for blood.
I stared at the massive monitor on the wall, watching the live feed from Vance Decker’s body camera. The underground interrogation cell of the Blackwood Pack was dimly lit, thick with the smell of damp concrete and fear. Alpha Hunter Lloyd was strapped to a silver-reinforced chair, his face a bloody, ruined mess from Adella’s punch.
I pushed past the agonizing burn in my chest and forced a weak mind-link to my Gamma. “Which hand touched her?”
On the screen, Vance grabbed Hunter by the hair, yanking his head back. “The King wants to know which hand you used to touch his mate.”
Hunter spat a wad of blood onto the floor, his drunken bravado replaced by cornered panic. “She’s nothing! Just that wolfless bitch—”
Ragnar’s wrath shattered my control. Through the link, I sent a silent, lethal pulse of intent.
Vance didn’t hesitate. He brought his heavy combat boot down directly onto Hunter’s right hand. The sickening crunch of pulverized bones echoed through the speakers, followed by Hunter’s agonizing scream.
“Sign,” Vance ordered coldly, slapping a stack of documents onto a metal table.