Chapter 621
I frowned, following her gaze. Parked beneath the shade of an ancient oak sat Dallas’s heavily armored, magically shielded SUV. I had assumed he sent a Dire Guard to monitor me—a lingering habit of his overbearing control that I had learned to tolerate.
“He’s there every day you work,” Lila whispered. “He never comes in. But, Luna—he’s the anonymous donor. He paid the Healer’s bills for my wolfless brother. He bought the firm those incredibly expensive, magically infused restoration pigments. And he’s the one who sends the strawberry cakes every Friday afternoon.”
My breath hitched. The world seemed to stop spinning.
The non-toxic pigments. The Healer. The cakes. All this time, I had believed Dallas was having me surveilled out of cold, Lycan paranoia. But he wasn’t restricting my freedom. He was sitting in the shadows, silently worshipping me—ensuring my world was perfectly safe and providing everything I had never asked for, simply because his pride and his scars wouldn’t allow him to step into the light.
Tears blurred my vision. I dropped my leather satchel on the desk.
“Thank you, Lila,” I choked out, and sprinted for the door.
The crisp morning air hit my face as I ran across the asphalt. I slammed my hand against the dark tinted window of the SUV, pressing the moonflower brooch against the glass.
A moment later, the window hummed down.
Dallas sat in the backseat, his broad shoulders stiff. The scent of violent storms and cedar washed over me, laced with a sudden, unmistakable spike of Alpha embarrassment. He cleared his throat, refusing to meet my eyes.
“I was just passing by,” he grumbled, his voice a defensive rumble.
“Passing by?” I asked, my voice trembling somewhere between laughter and tears. “Every single day? Paying Lila’s medical bills? Buying the firm’s pigments? Strawberry cake, Dallas?”
His jaw clenched. He looked away, his storm-gray eyes narrowing as he tried to pull the mask of the ruthless Alpha King back over his vulnerable heart.
“You are my Mate,” Dallas stated, his tone dropping into a stubborn, possessive growl. “The pigments the firm uses are cheap and toxic. Unacceptable.”
The sheer, clumsy depth of his devotion shattered the last of my composure. I didn’t care about the street or the guards. I yanked the heavy door open and threw myself into the SUV, burying my face in his neck.
Dallas let out a startled breath, but his massive arms instantly wrapped around me, crushing me to his chest almost punishingly. Through our bond, Ragnar let out a deep, contented rumble—finally at peace.
“I just wanted to watch you,” Dallas whispered hoarsely against my hair, his defenses crumbling completely. “I didn’t want to cast my shadow over your light.”
“You are my light,” I sobbed fiercely, pulling back to cup his scarred face in my hands. “No more shadows, Dallas. Never again.”
He leaned into my touch, his eyes softening with a profound, unbreakable peace. We were finally, completely bare to one another.
But the quiet sanctuary of our embrace was violently shattered.
A deafening, high-pitched roar of a V12 engine tore down the street. A bright green Lamborghini swerved recklessly, drifting close enough to nearly clip the front bumper of our SUV before speeding away in a blur of toxic exhaust.
In the driver’s seat, Gamma Vance Decker’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. His flinty eyes tracked the retreating sports car, his Inner Wolf snapping instantly into lethal battle-readiness.
“Julian Malcolm,” Vance growled, his voice like cracking ice. “Elder Malcolm’s grandson. Word is he flew in from Europe just this morning.”
My blood ran cold. Julian Malcolm had arrived.
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Message from Noa: Lovely Tuesday for you dear readers. God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. ( • ᴗ – ) ✧
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