Chapter 205

Chapter 205:

But this time, I didn’t look away. I held his gaze and let him see that I knew — not everything, but enough. The game hadn’t changed. It had simply been named.

And now we had to decide what came next.

Adella

I glanced at the window. The rain had reduced to a drizzle, and the streetlights outside burned steadily. “It looks fine to me. Besides, I have a flashlight now. I can manage p>

“It is my duty to ensure your safety,” he countered, not shifting an inch.

D𝗂𝘀𝖼о𝗏er 𝘯𝖾𝘄 s𝗍о𝗿𝗂e𝗌 𝘰𝘯 g𝖺lո𝗈𝗏е𝗹ѕ.𝗰om

“You have Warriors for that,” I argued, crossing my arms. “You have an entire security team. You can send a patrol to sit outside the building if you’re that worried p>

Dallas stood then, unfolding his massive frame from the chair. The air in the room seemed to thin, drawn into the gravity of his presence. He took a step toward me, the scent of ozone and deep cedar flaring sharply.

“They are not me,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble that seemed to vibrate the floorboards.

The statement was absolute. Possessive. Irrational.

I knew I should argue. I knew I should remind him that this was my apartment, my life — the life I was trying to build away from the Pack’s suffocating protection. But as I looked into his pitch-black eyes, the protest died in my throat. The pull of the bond was a physical ache in my chest, a magnetic force that made my knees weak.

“Fine,” I breathed, defeated by my own traitorous heart. “You can take the sofa p>

An hour later, the steam from the shower had turned the bathroom into a white, misty haven. I stood before the mirror, my skin flushed pink from the heat, trying to scrub the confusion of the evening from my mind.

I reached for the door handle and froze.

My pajamas were still folded neatly on the bed.

Stupid.

I grabbed the fluffy white towel and wrapped it tightly around myself, tucking the end securely over my chest. It was fine. Dallas was in the living room. The hallway was dark. I just had to make a run for it.

I took a breath and opened the bathroom door.

Steam billowed out into the cool hallway, carrying the scent of my lavender soap and the sweet, heady aroma of Moonflower that seemed to cling to my skin lately.

I took one step and gasped, nearly dropping the towel.

Dallas wasn’t on the sofa.

He was leaning against the wall directly outside the bathroom door, shrouded in shadow. His arms were crossed over his chest, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar to reveal the hollow of his throat.

“Dallas!” I pressed a hand to my sternum, my heart hammering. “You scared me p>

He didn’t apologize. He pushed off the wall, his movements fluid and predatory. The hallway was narrow, and suddenly it felt like a cage.

“I was getting water,” he said, his voice rough as grinding gravel.

“The kitchen is the other way,” I whispered, clutching the terrycloth as if it were armor.