Chapter 220
Chapter 220:
Her sudden capitulation was suspicious, but my headache was too severe to interrogate her. I just wanted to get to work and stop thinking about the way Dallas Marshall had looked at me the night before — like he wanted to devour me whole.
The afternoon sun filtered through the high windows of S&D Design, illuminating dust motes drifting through the air. My restoration nook was quiet — a sanctuary of old paper and history. I was carefully sketching a missing section of an ancient Pack law codex, the soft scratch of my pencil the only sound.
“You’re doing it again,” Lena said, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin.
I jumped, nearly snapping my pencil. “Doing what p>
𝗥𝗲со𝘮meո𝘥 𝘵𝘰 у𝗈𝗎𝘳 f𝗿i𝗲ո𝗱s
“Staring into space with that goofy, terrified look on your face,” she teased. “Thinking about your mystery Alpha p>
“He’s not my Alpha,” I corrected automatically, though my heart gave a traitorous thump at the thought of him. “And I’m working p>
“Uh-huh.” Lena walked over and tapped my phone, which was vibrating on the drafting table. “Well, your ‘work’ is texting you p>
I looked down. The name Dallas Marshall flashed on the screen. My breath hitched.
Dallas: Dinner. 7:00 PM. I’ll send a car.
Not a question. A command, wrapped in the velvet of an invitation.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Every survival instinct I had screamed at me to run. Dallas was dangerous — a Lycan-blooded Alpha who made me feel things I had no business feeling. Getting closer to him was like walking into a fire.
I typed: I can’t. I have a lot of work to catch up on.
I stared at the words. They were a lie. A safe, cowardly lie.
Stop her. Comfort her. Claim her.
His voice from the night before echoed through my memory — deep and rough with restraint. He had stopped. He hadn’t taken advantage of me. He had protected me from myself.
With a trembling exhale, I backspaced until the text box was empty.
Me: Okay.
I hit send before I could change my mind.
“Is that him?” Lena asked, her eyebrows raised. “You’re blushing. You’re totally blushing p>
“It’s just spam,” I lied, flipping the phone face-down to hide the notification that appeared instantly — a single word from him.
Good.
“Right. Spam that makes you look like you’re about to hyperventilate,” Lena laughed, heading back to her desk.
I turned back to my sketch, but my hand was shaking too much to draw. I wasn’t just accepting a dinner invitation. I was walking willingly back into the lion’s den.
And God help me — I couldn’t wait to be devoured.
Wednesday morning didn’t arrive with the calm I needed before my dinner with Dallas. It arrived with Azalea Sterling pounding on my apartment door like the police serving a warrant.
“Emergency! Code Red! Get dressed, Adella p>
Panic spiked in my chest. I threw on jeans and a sweater and rushed out to the street in front of The Aurelia with my heart in my throat. But there was no fire, no rogue attack, no blood.
There was only a car. Or rather, two of them.