Chapter 113
Chapter 113:
Mine, Ragnar growled, possessiveness vibrating through my bones. Let them see. Let them fear.
“Fine,” I said, tossing the ruined towel onto the bench. “We go. But if anyone so much as breathes on her wrong, this Den won’t be the only place with blood on the floor p>
The transition from the brutal intensity of the training room to the plush silence of the penthouse bedroom was jarring. The late afternoon sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching the dust motes dancing in the air.
I stopped in the doorway.
Adella stood before the massive mirror, her back to me. Azalea was holding a hanger against her frame. The dress was a weapon in the form of fabric — a liquid mercury slip of silk and sequins that looked as though it might slide from her skin if she moved too quickly.
“It’s too much, Az,” Adella whispered, her voice trembling. She hugged her arms around her waist, a defensive posture that made my chest ache. “Everyone knows what I am. A wolfless. If I wear this, I’ll look like I’m trying to be something I’m not p>
“You’re not trying to be anything, honey,” Azalea insisted, her tone fierce. “This is a power suit. It says you’re worth ten billion dollars. It says you’re with the King p>
“It says I’m for sale,” Adella countered softly, looking down.
I stepped into the room. The atmosphere shifted instantly, the air charging with the static of my presence. Azalea looked up, her eyes widening at my battered knuckles, but she held her ground. She offered the hanger to me. I took it.
“Leave us, Azalea p>
𝖭𝗲𝘸 c𝗁аptе𝗿𝗌 𝘦𝘷𝖾𝗿𝘆 𝗐𝗲е𝘬 𝗈𝗇
She nodded, squeezed Adella’s shoulder once, and slipped out the door.
Silence stretched between us. Adella wouldn’t meet my eyes. She looked small, terrified of the very world I ruled. I walked closer, the scent of rain and lilies filling my senses, quieting the lingering rage from the training room.
I held the dress up. It was silver-grey — the color of moonlight on water.
“You think this dress is a lie,” I said, my voice low, a rumble I felt vibrate through her.
She looked up then, her hazel eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I’m just Adella, Dallas. I’m not a Luna. I’m not royalty p>
I closed the distance between us, dropping the dress onto the bed so I could cup her face with my rough, bandaged hands. I forced her to hold my gaze, to see the absolute conviction burning in mine.
“You are what I say you are,” I told her, my thumb brushing the delicate skin beneath her eye. “And I say you are the only thing in this world that matters p>
I picked up the dress again and pressed it into her hands. The cool silk flowed over her fingers.
“Wear it,” I commanded softly, leaning down until my lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Not for them. Not for the press or the Pack. For you. Let them see the queen I see p>