Chapter 609
Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the chamber, the rhythmic clack of her cane fading into the hallway.
The moment we were alone, Dallas collapsed forward. His broad shoulders shook violently as a feral, broken sob tore from his throat.
I dropped to my knees instantly, wrapping my arms fiercely around his trembling body and burying my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of storm and cedar.
“She loves you,” I whispered against his skin, the truth of Gigi’s brutal trial suddenly crystal clear to me. “She’s using the only weapon she has to shock you back to life. She wants you to fight, Dallas.”
He clung to me, his fingers digging into my dress as he wept for his fallen men. I held him tighter, knowing that tonight, at the evening reception in the gardens, the entire Pack would be watching. He had to be ready.
Adella POV
Hours later, the cool evening breeze sweeping through the Marshall Estate Gardens did nothing to soothe the lingering tension from the High Council Chamber. The patio was adorned with lavish floral arrangements, but Dallas sat rigid in his wheelchair near the bar, his jaw clenched tight.
The scent of storm and cedar suddenly spiked, turning sharp with Alpha aggression. I followed his dark gaze.
Anson Fowler strolled up the gravel path in an impeccable black suit, walking straight to Sloane Corbin and wrapping a possessive arm around her waist. Sloane stiffened instantly, her Inner Wolf shrinking back.
“Why are you here, Fowler?” Dallas demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through the patio.
Anson offered a smooth, arrogant smirk. “Just picking up my fiancée, Marshall. Is it a crime to attend a Pack reception?”
The air crackled with the suffocating weight of battling pheromones. Inside Dallas, Ragnar was snarling, ready to tear the rival Alpha apart despite his broken body.
Before Dallas could issue a command, a deafening screech of tearing metal shattered the night.
A magically reinforced black SUV smashed through the ancient iron gates, obliterating the runic wards. The vehicle tore across the manicured lawn, ripping up chunks of earth before slamming to a halt thirty yards from the patio.
The driver’s door kicked open. Dosha stumbled out, her hair wild, her eyes wide with a terrifying, unhinged madness.
“Give her back!” Dosha shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at Dallas. “You poisoned my daughter’s mind!”
In her other hand, she clutched a small obsidian vial. She twisted the cap off, and a sickening, acrid scent hit the air. My stomach plummeted. Concentrated liquid silver.
Panic erupted. Guests scrambled backward. Vance Decker instantly shoved me behind his massive frame and barked orders to hold the Warriors back, keeping them from running blindly into the path of the lethal weapon.
“I will burn the taint from this Pack!” Dosha screamed, winding her arm back to hurl the vial straight at Sloane, Anson, and Dallas, who sat exposed at the front of the crowd.
Dallas didn’t hesitate.
.
.
.