Chapter 573
I leaned forward. “Take a message to Dosha,” I growled, my eyes flashing Ragnar’s predatory silver. “Tell her I’m coming for her. And if she ever dares to think my Luna’s name again, I will burn her entire bloodline from the Goddess’s memory.”
As Vance dragged the weeping Warrior away, Duncan linked me again. The sheer panic in my Beta’s voice froze the blood in my veins.
Dallas. It’s your father. Kaelen just suffered a massive stroke. He’s on life support at the New York estate.
Ragnar felt nothing for the man, but my mind raced. If Kaelen died before signing the final trust handover, a dormant clause would activate — and Dosha’s Pack would seize a critical board seat in Marshall Industries through her human shell companies.
The door to the adjoining suite opened. Adella walked in, her hair tousled, her eyes wide from the commotion. “Dallas? What happened?”
I forced myself to stand. The silver wounds on my back screamed, tearing at my flesh like jagged glass, but I swallowed the pain and kept my face still. I couldn’t let her see how close to the edge I truly was.
“Pack your things,” I said, my voice tight with grim finality. “My father is dying. We have to leave for New York immediately.”
Adella POV
The magically shielded cabin of the Marshall Industries private jet was suffocatingly quiet. We were still six hours from landing in New York, but the tension radiating from Dallas made the air feel heavy. He sat across from me at the mahogany desk, his face pale, the weight of his unspoken fears pressing down on every silence.
He slid a heavy parchment across the table. It hummed with ancient magic.
“New York is a den of snakes, Adella,” Dallas said, his voice rough. “Dosha and the hostile factions within the Pack will use my father’s condition to strike. If the silver in my veins takes me down — I need to know you and our pup are untouchable.”
I looked down at the document. Luna’s Decree of Regency. It granted me absolute, unquestionable control over the Marshall empire and the Blackwood Pack.
My heart broke at the fatalistic emptiness in his eyes, but that sorrow ignited quickly into fierce anger. I was no longer the terrified, wolfless girl hiding behind his broad shoulders.
“I am not signing a death sentence for you,” I said, pushing the parchment back. “We are a team, Dallas. You don’t get to isolate yourself and prepare to die. If you fall, I fall with you.”
Dallas froze. The heavy silence stretched between us before his rigid posture finally broke. He reached across the desk, his large, warm hand enveloping mine. “I’m not giving up, little moon,” he murmured, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “But I am a King preparing for war. Let me protect you. Please.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I nodded slowly, dipped my fingertip into a bead of his healing Lycan blood on his wrist, and pressed my name onto the parchment. The magic flared, binding my soul to the throne.
.