Chapter 115
Chapter 115:
“Or what?” Seraphina sneered, turning her venom on Azalea. “You’ll run to your daddy? Oh, wait — you can’t. You’re just the daughter of a ghost, Azalea. Living off the King’s pity because your father was too stupid to stay alive p>
The silence that followed was deafening. I watched Azalea’s face go white, then red.
“Don’t,” I started — but it was too late.
Azalea didn’t scream. She didn’t argue. She simply grabbed the silver ice bucket from the center of the table and heaved it.
Ice water and half a bottle of expensive champagne crashed over Seraphina’s perfectly styled hair.
The shock lasted a second. Then came the shriek.
“You bitch!” Seraphina roared. Her face twisted, her human mask slipping to reveal the predator beneath. Her nails elongated into claws, and she lunged across the table, aiming straight for Azalea’s throat.
Tho𝘶𝘴a𝗇𝘥s 𝗼𝗳 re𝗮𝘥e𝗿𝗌 𝗼𝗇 𝗀𝗮𝗹ո𝘰vе𝘭𝘴.cо𝗆
Azalea was fast, but she was off-balance.
I didn’t think. I didn’t weigh the odds. A surge of heat — unfamiliar and fierce — exploded in my chest.
Protect.
I threw myself forward, shoving Azalea back into the plush leather of the booth just as Seraphina’s hand came down.
Pain seared through my upper arm. Four hot knives slicing through skin. I gasped, stumbling back, clutching my arm as warm blood welled up instantly, staining the silver silk of my dress crimson.
“Adella!” Azalea screamed.
Seraphina stood panting, her chest heaving, her claws dripping with my blood. She looked momentarily stunned that she had struck me instead of Azalea.
Then the air left the room.
It wasn’t merely silence — it was a vacuum. The music seemed to distort, the chatter of the club dying instantly as a wave of pure, crushing power slammed into the booth. It was heavy and suffocating, smelling of a storm so violent it made my knees buckle.
Lycan.
Seraphina froze, her eyes widening in absolute terror. She began to tremble, the color draining from her face until she was grey.
I looked up.
Dallas stood at the entrance of the booth. He wasn’t looking at Seraphina. He wasn’t looking at Azalea. His eyes — now glowing a luminous, predatory gold — were fixed on the blood dripping from my elbow onto the floor.
The beast in him was at the surface, vibrating beneath his skin. The rage radiating off him was hot enough to blister paint.
He took one step forward. The floorboards groaned.
“Don’t,” he said.
It wasn’t a shout. It was a low, guttural command that vibrated in the marrow of everyone within a hundred feet — the voice of a King, backed by the crushing weight of an Alpha’s authority.
“Touch. Them p>
Seraphina and her companions went rigid, paralyzed by the sheer force of his will. They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t blink. They could only wait.
The silence that followed Dallas’s command was heavier than gravity. It pressed against my eardrums, thick and suffocating. The only sound in the entire club was the ragged, terrified breathing of Seraphina Vance.