Chapter 619

A sound ripped from my throat—a guttural, soul-shattering Lycan howl of pure, unadulterated grief. It echoed over the roaring thunder, a broken King mourning the destruction of his own world.

“I’m sorry!” I screamed at the merciless sky, tears mixing with the freezing rain on my face. “Goddess, please! I’ll do the surgery! I’ll risk the blade! Just give her back! Please!”

I clawed at the mud, ready to drag my paralyzed body into the freezing currents to find her, when a sharp, shocked gasp cut through my wailing.

It was Vance.

A massive fork of lightning illuminated the riverbank, turning the night sky a blinding, electric white.

I raised my head, my vision blurred with mud and tears.

Standing beneath the massive rune-carved oak tree at the edge of the park, completely untouched by the raging storm, was Adella. She was perfectly dry, holding a black umbrella over her head. Her beautiful face was pale, and she was looking down at me with a profound, agonizing sorrow that seemed to pierce straight through my chest.

My breath hitched. My mind stalled completely.

The Moon Goddess was playing a cruel, sickening jest. My shattered mind had finally broken, conjuring the ghost of my Mate to haunt me in the very mud where I had lost her.

Adella POV

I stepped out from beneath the ancient, rune-carved oak, the freezing rain hammering against my black umbrella. Dallas was on his knees in the mud, his storm-gray eyes wide and completely shattered. He thought I was a ghost.

I dropped the umbrella. “Dallas,” I whispered.

He lunged. The sheer, explosive force of his Lycan instinct tackled us both into the freezing mud. He was frantic, his massive, dirt-stained hands roaming over my face, my arms, my swollen belly—desperately searching for silver burns.

“You’re real,” he choked out, his voice a broken sob. He tried to scoop me into his arms, but his ruined, silver-poisoned leg buckled beneath his weight. We crashed back into the mud. He groaned in agony, yet instantly curled his massive body over mine, forming an impenetrable shield against the storm.

Vance Decker appeared through the downpour, his flinty eyes wide with profound relief. Together, we hauled my broken King out of the mud and toward the waiting armored SUV.

The heavy doors slammed shut, sealing us in a magically shielded cocoon of leather and ozone. The silence inside was deafening. As the adrenaline receded, Dallas’s frantic relief mutated into a dark, terrifying realization.

“You faked it,” he snarled, his chest heaving as he stared at my perfectly dry clothes beneath the muddy coat. “You let me believe you were dead.”

“I had to,” I fired back, my voice trembling but fierce. “Would you have ever left that room otherwise?”

He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes flashing with Ragnar’s molten gold. “If I had been a second later—if you had actually fallen into that water—”

“I bet my life that the mate-bond the Moon Goddess gave us was stronger than your pathetic pride,” I interrupted, staring directly into his glowing eyes.

The words shattered his fury. With a desperate, guttural groan, he crushed his mouth against mine. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was a punishing, possessive storm of pheromones and terror, a raw confession of how deeply he needed me. I tangled my fingers in his wet hair and anchored him to reality.

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