Chapter 557
“It changes nothing!” I snapped, my heart hammering against my ribs. “You know how broken he thinks he is. If he finds out about a pup he believes he can never Mark or protect, his twisted sense of sacrifice will kick in. He’ll send me to some neutral Pack clinic and force me to get rid of it just to ‘save’ me from his enemies. He will destroy his own legacy to keep me breathing, Azalea. I won’t let him.”
Azalea stared at me, her jaw tight, clearly torn between her loyalty to me and her loyalty to her Alpha King. Finally, she let out a long, frustrated breath. “I need to use the powder room.”
She turned on her heel and marched down the hall. I sank into the armchair by the fire, completely unaware that the fragile safety I was clinging to was about to shatter.
Dallas POV
The magically shielded black surveillance van parked on the logging road was suffocating. I sat in the dark, eyes fixed on the tactical monitors, the cramped space thick with a tension that had nowhere to go.
My encrypted burner phone vibrated on the console. A Priority One message from Azalea.
Ghost-Actual. Code: White Wolf.
My blood ran cold. White Wolf was the highest clearance code regarding Adella. I opened the attachment.
It was a stealthy side-profile photograph of Adella standing in the safe house living room, her hands resting on a clearly pregnant, five-month bump.
My world stopped.
Mine! Ragnar, my Inner Wolf, unleashed a deafening roar that rattled my skull, clawing at the edges of my mind with violent possessiveness.
Five months. The timeline hit me like a physical blow. Five months ago was the night of the charity gala. A frantic, suffocating hope ignited in my chest — only to collide immediately with the brutal reality of Dr. Alistair Vance’s diagnosis.
Permanent nerve damage from the silver poisoning. You are sterile, Alpha.
The agony of that medical death sentence warred with the primal instinct screaming that this was my pup. My hands shook as I stared at the screen. Was it mine? Or was I truly a dying, crippled monster staring at another man’s child?
But the truth of bloodline didn’t matter right now. Panic — cold and sharp — gripped my throat. A pregnant Luna was the ultimate prize. Dosha and Marcus Hyde would stop at nothing to slaughter her and whatever child she carried. The perimeter security was no longer enough.
I reached into the med-kit, pulled out a syringe of high-dose painkiller, and drove it directly into my thigh, welcoming the icy, numbing burn. I couldn’t be a broken Mate right now. I had to be a wall.
I opened the Mind-Link to my Warrior. Weston.
Yes, Alpha? His voice echoed in my head.
I pushed the full, crushing weight of my Alpha’s Command through the link, leaving no room for hesitation. Plan changes. I am going inside for close-quarters protection. From this second on, twenty-four-seven, no one comes within ten feet of her without my permission.
I cut the link before he could respond. Reaching into the duffel bag beside me, I pulled out the black tactical mask. I slipped it over my face, burying the shattered remnants of Dallas Marshall beneath it, and became the ghost they called Kieran.