Chapter 569
“Not until you look me in the eye and tell me about the Decree of Severance,” I challenged, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands.
Dallas’s massive shoulders went rigid. Slowly, he turned his head, his storm-gray eyes wide with a flash of panic before hardening into ice. “It’s done. You’re free.”
“Don’t lie to me!” I shouted, the sound echoing across the empty rooftop. “Azalea told me everything. You locked the original document in your safe in New York. You never submitted it to the Elders. You made sure I remained your legal Luna, fully protected, while you planned to rot away in self-pity!”
“The intent is there!” he snarled, his composure snapping. He grabbed the edge of the stone bench and forced himself to stand. “I gave you an out, Adella. I gave you a future!”
The sudden, aggressive movement was a mistake. His right leg, ravaged by the silver poisoning, buckled beneath his weight. A sharp hiss of pain tore from his throat as he stumbled forward, barely catching himself against the stone wall. He looked devastatingly vulnerable, his pride bleeding out onto the wet stones.
“You don’t get to decide what I can endure,” I said, my voice dropping to a fierce whisper as I closed the distance between us.
Dallas refused to look at me, his chest heaving. “Look at me, Adella,” he choked out, the words dripping with visceral self-loathing. “I’m a wreck. A broken god. I can’t even stand without a cane. I can’t stand beside you as a whole wolf. I can’t complete the Marking. How am I supposed to chase our pup through the forest when I can barely walk across a room?”
“I didn’t fall in love with an invincible Lycan,” I interrupted, stepping directly into his space. The air between us was thick with his presence, heavy with his despair. “I fell in love with Dallas Marshall. The man who saved me. The father of my child.”
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “You deserve a whole mate. Not a liability.”
“Stop it.” I reached out and took his right hand — the one scarred by the silver blade. He tried to pull away, but I held on with every ounce of strength I had, pressing his large, trembling palm flat against the swell of my stomach.
“Adella, don’t—”
Thump.
Dallas froze. His breath hitched in his throat.
Beneath his scarred palm, our pup — a miracle of Lycan and White Wolf blood — delivered a strong, undeniable kick. A tiny, defiant spark of life demanding to be felt.
Thump. Thump.
Dallas’s eyes flew open, staring down at my belly in absolute wonder. The icy walls he had built around his heart shattered in an instant. A choked sob broke from his lips. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the agony in his leg, and wrapped his massive arms around my waist, burying his face against my stomach. His broad shoulders shook as he wept.