Chapter 196
Chapter 196:
“You know, Dad is going to have a coronary when he finds out we left the perimeter without a full convoy,” Azalea said, her tone wry as she adjusted her sunglasses. Despite her casual posture, her eyes swept the street with the practiced vigilance of someone who had grown up in the shadow of a Lycan King.
“He has his Warriors watching from the shadows, Azalea. I can feel them,” I replied, clutching my portfolio tighter. “Besides, I needed air. Real air. Not the filtered oxygen of a glass tower p>
We reached the corner where the modern glass of the human business district bled into the cobblestone charm of the old Pack territory. The scent of roasted coffee battled with the exhaust of city traffic.
Suddenly, a black SUV screeched to a halt at the curb, cutting off our path. My heart hammered against my ribs as the door flew open.
Braydon Hyde stumbled out.
He looked nothing like the polished, arrogant Alpha heir I had once thought I loved. His shirt was wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot, and he reeked of stale whiskey and desperation.
“Adella,” he breathed, rushing toward me. “Thank the Goddess. I’ve been trying to reach you for days p>
Azalea stepped forward, a low growl vibrating in her throat, but I put a hand on her arm to stop her.
“What do you want, Braydon p>
“Katherine’s family is destroyed,” he said, his voice cracking. “Is that enough for you? Is your precious King satisfied now p>
J𝗼in 𝘵𝗁𝘦 𝖼𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂ոі𝘁𝗒 а𝘵
I stared at him, incredulous. “You came here to guilt me about Katherine p>
“She was jealous. She made mistakes p>
“She made her choices.” My voice was ice. “You made yours. Now say what you really came to say p>
Braydon’s eyes flickered — not with remorse, but with something darker. He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“I have something you want,” he said, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a worn photograph — a faded image of a woman with kind eyes, standing in a garden of moonflowers.
My mother. Elara.
My heart stopped.
“Your mother’s private journals,” Braydon said, tucking the photo back into his pocket. “The ones she kept before she died. Pages even Dallas doesn’t know exist. Pages about your family, your bloodline — things that would change everything you think you know p>
I forced my voice to stay steady. “You’re lying p>
“Am I?” He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the stale alcohol on his breath. “I have them, Adella. Locked away somewhere safe. And I’ll trade them for one small favor. Convince your King to call off his dogs. Stop dismantling what’s left of my family’s territory. Give me room to breathe, and the journals are yours p>
“You want me to bargain with my mother’s memory?” The words came out cold and sharp. “She fed me silver at your engagement party, Braydon. She stood there and watched me choke. And now you want to use my dead mother against me p>
“She was jealous. She made mistakes p>
“She made her choices.” My voice didn’t waver. “You made yours. I’ve made mine. I’m not trading anything for lies p>
Braydon’s expression shifted — not toward remorse, but something darker still. He leaned in and lowered his voice to a murmur.