Chapter 142

Chapter 142:

“I know.” I lifted the bracelet from the box so he could see it. “She bought this for me. For my eighteenth birthday. I never got to open it until now p>

Dallas reached out and gently touched the silver band on my wrist. “Fortitude,” he read. “She knew what kind of woman you would become p>

I laughed — a wet, shaky sound. “I don’t feel very strong right now p>

“You just walked into a monster’s den and walked out with the only thing that mattered.” He cupped my face, tilting it up until I met his gaze. “That isn’t weakness, Adella. That’s everything p>

I leaned into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand chase away the last of the cold. “I just wanted to hear her voice. Just once. And now I have it p>

“You have more than that.” He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me. “You have a future she dreamed of for you. And I’m going to make sure you get every single day of it p>

I buried my face in his chest and let myself cry — not from pain, not from fear, but from the overwhelming relief of being home, of being held, of being loved.

At the bottom of the box, the photograph of my mother and the other woman lay forgotten. A mystery for another day.

𝘈𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘯

Dallas

The storm outside was nothing compared to the violence churning inside my chest.

Adella sat across from me at the small iron table on the covered patio, wrapped in my leather jacket. It swallowed her small frame, making her look fragile — breakable. But the scent radiating off her wasn’t just rain and her own intoxicating sweetness. It was laced with the sour, metallic tang of terror. And beneath that, faint but undeniable, was the stench of another Alpha.

Braydon.

Ragnar paced in the back of my mind, a caged beast clawing at the bars. He touched her. I can smell him on her skin. Let me out. Let me kill him.

I gripped the stainless steel fork in my hand and forced my voice to remain steady. “You didn’t just insult him, Adella. I can feel your fear — it tastes like ash on my tongue.” I leaned forward, letting the shadows play across my face. “Tell me exactly what happened at the Manor p>

Adella hesitated, her fingers clutching the lapels of my jacket. She looked away, staring into the darkness where the rain lashed against the glass.

“He had a master key,” she whispered, the words barely audible over the wind. “He came into my room. I locked the door, but he still got in p>

The fork groaned as it bent under the pressure of my grip. Ragnar roared — a sound of pure, unadulterated hatred that vibrated through my bones.

“Did he touch you?” The question came out as a growl, low and dangerous.

She nodded, a jerky, painful movement. “He tried to kiss me. He kept coming closer.” She took a shaky breath. “I kneed him. Hard. And I hit him with a lamp p>