Chapter 537
She turned on her heel and stormed out, abandoning her scheme in seconds. I leaned back against the pillows, a hollow, terrifying smile stretching across my face. The lie was planted. Soon, the whole Pack would know I was a broken, abandoned shell.
Three hours. I sat on the hard plastic chair in the hallway of the Blackwood Pack’s private medical wing for three agonizing hours, the air heavy with the weight of what had happened behind those doors. I refused to move.
Finally, the red light above the steel-reinforced double doors clicked off. The doors swung open, and Duncan Whitaker stepped out alone.
I shot to my feet, my bare soles aching against the cold linoleum. “Duncan! Where is he? Let me see him.”
The massive Beta looked exhausted. Deep shadows hung under his eyes, and his usual composure was fractured. He wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“You can’t, Adella,” Duncan said, his voice a low rumble. “The Alpha King has been transferred to a secure, private facility. I cannot disclose the location.”
“What?” My heart plummeted, the mate-bond inside me screaming in protest. “I’m his Mate! You can’t keep me from him!”
Duncan finally looked at me, his expression hardening into the impenetrable mask of a Beta executing orders. “His exact words were, ‘Don’t let her see me.’ It is an Alpha’s Command.”
The words struck me like a physical blow. Don’t let her see me. Not I don’t want to see her. He was hiding. Dallas was building a fortress out of his own pride and shame, locking me out because he believed I was too weak to handle whatever broken state he was in. Fresh tears pricked my eyes, but beneath the heartbreak, a fierce, burning anger ignited. I was going to find him. I was going to smash that invisible wall to pieces.
I pushed through the sliding automatic doors of the medical wing and stepped out into the freezing sleet. The parking lot was a bleak expanse of gray concrete. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering, when a flash of movement caught my eye.
Chelsi Parrish stood near a concrete pillar, completely drenched. The usually arrogant noble she-wolf looked utterly shattered, her makeup running down her face in dark rivers. She had been locked out too.
A black sedan pulled up to the curb, its tires hissing against the wet pavement. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Dr. Alistair Vance.
Chelsi lunged toward the car, her hands gripping the wet window frame like a lifeline. “Alistair! Is it true? Is he—is the King—”
Dr. Vance stared at her. His face was pale, his hands trembling on the steering wheel. “You really want to know?” he asked, his voice strained.
Chelsi hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded frantically. She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. The sedan pulled away into the rain.