Chapter 129

Chapter 129:

“He saw you with me and ran, Adella,” Braydon whispered, leaning down until his breath ghosted over my ear, hot and cloying. “A King can’t be seen fighting for damaged goods p>

“No,” I breathed, shaking my head. “He trusts me p>

“Does he?” Braydon’s voice was smooth, like oil slicking over water. “Or did he realize that no matter how much he polishes you, you’re still just… broken? A wolfless girl brawling in the street with her ex-fiancé. How embarrassing for him p>

The taillights disappeared around the corner. Gone.

He hadn’t stopped. He hadn’t gotten out. He had left.

Part of me understood — he had to protect the mission, protect us both. If he came charging in, our plan would be ruined and Augusta would have her excuse. But the part of me that was simply a woman standing in the rain felt utterly abandoned. A crack opened in the center of my chest.

“I’m going to see Victoria,” I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. “Stay away from me p>

“Get in the car, Adella. You’re soaked p>

“I would rather crawl,” I snapped.

I turned on my heel and walked. The apothecary was only a few blocks from the estate, but in the driving rain it felt like miles. I didn’t look back, though I knew he was there.

Q𝗎𝘢𝗹i𝘵𝘆 𝗍rа𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝗍і𝗈𝗇𝗌 оn

The hum of an engine purred behind me. Then the blinding white beams of headlights stretched past, casting my shadow long and distorted against the wet pavement. He was herding me — like a sheepdog driving a stray back to the pen. He drove at a crawl, matching my pace exactly, the tires hissing against the wet asphalt.

Every step toward the looming iron gates of Hyde Manor felt like a step into a grave. The estate rose from the darkness — a gothic monstrosity of stone and gargoyles that had been my prison for years. As I passed through the gates, the heavy metal clanged shut behind me.

An hour later, I sat on the edge of the bed in the guest room, staring at the encrypted phone in my hands. My clothes were still damp, my hair plastered to my scalp, but I couldn’t bring myself to change. I could only stare at the dark screen and wait.

Buzz.

Safe, I typed. He’s watching. I’m okay.

The reply came instantly: I know. I saw. I’m sorry.

I know why you left. It’s okay.

It’s not okay. But I’ll make it right. 48 hours. Then you’re out.

I watched the screen. A long pause. Then:

Sleep well. I’ll be watching.

I stared at the words. Sleep well. After everything — after leaving me there, after driving away — that was all he had to say? No I love you. No I’m sorry. No Come home. Just… sleep well.

I wanted to throw the phone across the room. I wanted to scream. But I was too tired, too hollowed out.

I didn’t reply. I set the phone down and lay back on the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling as the rain continued to fall outside — a relentless rhythm that matched the ache in my chest.