Chapter 615
Our stubborn King seems to be rotting away, the elegant script read. Perhaps he requires some external motivation. Let me help you, Adella.
I hated Anson. I knew he was a manipulative snake. But as I stared at the locked study door, I grabbed a pen. What kind of motivation?
The raven returned moments later. I will bring a special gift tomorrow.
Late that night, unable to sleep, I wandered the dark hallway outside the study. A sharp, violent crash suddenly echoed from within—a crystal decanter smashing against the wall.
I froze, pressing my ear against the heavy oak door.
Through the thick wood, I didn’t hear the roar of a tyrant. I heard the raw, guttural sobbing of a broken man.
“Ragnar…” Dallas’s voice was hoarse, fractured by an agony so deep it made my own chest ache. “Ragnar… please… don’t leave me…”
He was mourning his dying soul alone in the dark.
Tears streamed down my face as I backed away from the door. I wiped my cheeks, my resolve hardening into steel. Tomorrow, Anson Fowler was coming. And whatever devil’s bargain he was bringing with him, I would play my part to perfection.
Dallas POV
The afternoon sun beating down on the stone patio felt like a cruel joke. Corbin, an Omega servant, parked my wheelchair near the edge of the terrace and quickly scurried away, his Inner Wolf cowering from the suffocating, toxic weight of my despair. I stared blankly at the manicured gardens, feeling Ragnar fade into a hollow, agonizing silence within my mind.
Then the scent of arrogant cedar and mint invaded my territory.
“Rotting away nicely, Marshall?”
I gripped the armrests of my chair. Anson Fowler strolled onto the patio, Sloane Corbin trailing behind him like a nervous shadow. Her Inner Wolf whimpered, but Anson looked entirely at ease on my land.
“Get out of my sight, Fowler,” I growled, my voice rough.
Anson ignored me, taking a seat at the patio table. “I’m just here to discuss the future. Specifically, Adella’s and the unborn pup’s. It’s a tragedy, really—an empty shell of a King who can’t even Mark his own Mate, let alone Shift to run with his Luna.”
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Deep within the dark abyss of my soul, a spark ignited. Ragnar stirred, a low, dangerous rumble vibrating through my chest.
“You’re nothing but a biological donor now, Dallas,” Anson continued, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. “But don’t worry. I’d make an excellent godfather. Or perhaps a stronger, new Alpha to protect them when you finally expire.”
MINE! Ragnar roared, the sheer force of his possessive fury slamming against the inside of my skull.
My blood boiled. The veins in my neck bulged as I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a lethal, vibrating octave. “I will kill you, Fowler.”
Sloane took a terrified step back, but Anson simply leaned closer, his smirk widening. He lowered his voice and delivered the final, poisoned blade.
“You’re just dead weight now. Adella deserves a whole Alpha.”
Something inside me snapped.
.
.
.