Chapter 600

“He’s agreed to neutral ground,” I said. “The Sanctuary. He’ll send Sloane as his proxy.”

Dallas’s jaw tightened, but he gave a single, stiff nod.

“Deal,” I said, already steeling myself for the lion’s den.

Dosha POV

Crash.

A priceless antique vase shattered against the marble fireplace of my Crimson Paw estate. The sound did nothing to quell the blinding, suffocating rage boiling in my blood.

“That ungrateful, treacherous little bitch!” I shrieked, pacing the floor. Sloane hadn’t merely run — she had taken the Memory Crystal straight to Anson Fowler.

Ferd, my lead Warrior, cowered in the doorway, trembling beneath my dominance.

“Take a strike team,” I ordered, pointing a shaking finger at him. “Breach Fowler’s embassy. Drag Sloane back here by her hair.”

“Alpha, we can’t,” Ferd stammered, his eyes wide with fear. “Fowler’s estate is protected by ancient blood wards. A direct assault would trigger a full-scale Pack war with Silver Creek. We don’t have the numbers to survive it.”

I froze, my claws digging into my palms until they bled. A frontal assault was suicide. But Sloane had a weakness — a pathetic, lingering attachment she believed I had forgotten.

A slow, malicious smile stretched across my face.

“William,” I whispered.

Ferd blinked in confusion. “The human artist? Her ex-boyfriend?”

“Yes,” I purred, the frantic panic in my chest solidifying into cold, lethal calculation. “Sloane always was too soft. She thinks she’s safe behind Fowler’s walls, but she left her heart completely exposed in the human world.”

I turned to Ferd, my eyes gleaming with absolute cruelty. “Find the human. Bring him to me alive. We are going to give my former ally a wedding present she will never forget.”

Adella POV

The magically shielded private conference room deep within The Sanctuary felt more like a polished tomb than a meeting space. The obsidian walls were designed to absorb every form of eavesdropping, but right now they only seemed to trap the suffocating tension.

Anson had demanded the meeting at his embassy. I had refused. “Neutral ground or nothing.” After a tense hour of back-and-forth, Fowler agreed to send Sloane as his proxy to The Sanctuary.

The air was thick with the sterile bite of ozone, clashing violently with the remnants of Anson’s Alpha scent still clinging to Sloane. Beside me, Azalea stood rigid, her bright wildflower scent sharpened into a hostile, jagged warning.

Across the massive table, Sloane Corbin sat pale and trembling, her Inner Wolf cowering beneath the weight of every predator in the room.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries,” I said, keeping my voice dead calm. “I know you have the Memory Crystal proving Dosha’s treason. Name your price. I am prepared to offer a major, unrestricted favor from Marshall Enterprises.”

Sloane’s hands trembled. “Anson—”

“Is not here,” I interrupted. “You are. Speak.”

Sloane swallowed hard, then reached into her jacket and placed the faintly glowing crystal onto the center of the obsidian table.