Chapter 176
Chapter 176:
I looked from Dallas to the dark, gaping window of the warehouse above us, and a cold realization washed over me. Jared Solder hadn’t just wanted the money. He hadn’t just wanted to hurt Dallas.
He had waited until he knew we were both in motion.
Two birds.
We hadn’t arrived to save her. We had just walked into the same cage.
Adella
The warehouse door didn’t just open — it exploded inward, kicking up a cloud of ancient dust and rust. Through the haze, Braydon Hyde stormed in, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with a manic sort of heroism that made my stomach churn.
He looked at me, bound to the chair, then turned his glare on Jared.
“Release her!” Braydon bellowed. The air rippled with the force of his Alpha’s Command — a heavy, suffocating pressure meant to force submission, to make a lesser wolf bare its throat.
But Jared Solder wasn’t a wolf looking for a leader. He was a man looking for a massacre.
𝗠оѕt 𝗿e𝖺𝖽 t𝗁i𝘴 𝗐е𝗲𝗄 𝗼𝘯
Jared didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. Instead, a dry, rattling laugh escaped his throat. “You think your parlor tricks work on me, boy? I’ve been rotting in the dark while you played prince p>
With a fluid motion too fast for a human eye to track, Jared reached into his boot. The metal that emerged wasn’t steel. It gleamed with a deadly, milky white sheen.
Silver.
He pressed the blade against the soft skin of my throat. The metal was so cold it burned, sending a shockwave of terror through me — not for myself, but for what this weapon meant to the men outside.
“One more word,” Jared hissed, his breath reeking of stale tobacco and madness, “and I carve her pretty neck like a Thanksgiving turkey p>
From outside the warehouse, a sound vibrated through the corrugated metal walls — a roar so deep, so laden with primal violence, that the floorboards beneath my chair trembled. It was the sound of a Lycan on the brink of insanity.
“Bring him out!” Jared screamed toward the open door. “Or she bleeds p>
He grabbed the back of my chair and dragged me backward, scraping the metal legs against the concrete until we broke into the open air of the loading dock. The night wind whipped my hair across my face, stinging my eyes.
And there he was.
Dallas Marshall stood amidst the gravel, his suit jacket straining across his shoulders. His eyes were pitch black — Ragnar was at the surface, fighting for control. At his feet lay two duffel bags.
“The money is there,” Dallas growled, his voice like grinding stones. “Let her go p>
“The money?” Jared sneered, kicking one of the bags open. Stacks of cash spilled out and fluttered in the wind. “I don’t want your charity, Marshall. I want your pride.” He tightened his grip on my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat to the silver blade. “Kneel p>
Braydon, who had stumbled out behind us, looked pale. “You can’t be serious. We are Alphas. We do not p>
“I said KNEEL!” Jared roared, pressing the blade harder. A thin line of blood trickled down my neck.