Chapter 547
Gigi’s expression hardened into a mask of political calculation. “Then it becomes infinitely more complex. A crippled Alpha and an heir he can never officially Mark or claim through a bonded mate—it is the perfect excuse. Dosha and every rival Pack will use it to challenge his legitimacy and incite a civil war. If he lives, you must remain a ghost to keep this child safe.”
I looked down at my hands. I was no longer a Luna. I was just Adella Everett—a pregnant, wolfless woman running for her life. But I refused to be a helpless pawn.
“I agree to the exile,” I said, lifting my chin to meet her gaze. “But I have terms.”
Gigi’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “Terms?”
“I won’t be a kept secret on the Marshall payroll,” I stated firmly. “I signed that decree as Adella Everett. I will live as her. You will set up an untraceable account, but it will be funded entirely by the Everett Trust. My mother’s money was unlocked the moment our legal separation was filed. I will not take a single dime from the Pack.”
For a fleeting second, a glimmer of profound respect flashed in Gigi’s eyes. She saw the pride of a queen, even in exile. “Very well. I will have the financial transfers arranged securely. Is there anything else?”
My breath hitched. The walls of the room suddenly felt like they were closing in. “I want to see him. One last time.”
Gigi stiffened, her posture instantly rigid. “Absolutely not. Dallas issued a direct Alpha’s Command before he went into surgery. He explicitly forbade anyone from letting you see him in that state.”
“I am no longer part of his Pack, Gigi!” I cried out, raw agony tearing through my throat. “His Alpha’s Command holds no power over me anymore! I just severed my soul from his to save his life. I am leaving everything behind.”
Tears spilled over my lashes, hot and fast. I stepped toward her, my voice breaking into a desperate plea. “Please. I need to see what I’m fighting for.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Gigi stared at me, the strict Elder warring with the grieving grandmother inside her. Finally, her shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch.
“There is a place,” Gigi murmured. “The Vigil Corridor. It overlooks the Sanctuary in the medical wing. The glass is enchanted—one-way. You can see him, but he will not know you are there, and you will not be able to detect his scent.”
“Take me there,” I said, wiping my cheeks.
Gigi gave a single, solemn nod. She turned toward the door and gestured for me to follow. I grabbed my duffel bag, left the cold, empty bedroom behind, and walked after her into the hallway to say my final goodbye.
The Vigil Corridor was exactly as Gigi had described—a dark, freezing room suspended like a shadow over the Sanctuary. I stepped up to the massive, enchanted one-way glass. My breath hitched, leaving a thin layer of fog on the cold pane.