Chapter 266
Chapter 266:
“Yes,” he insisted, his eyes wide and feverish. “You need me. You’ve always needed me. Who else would go to these lengths? Who else would spend a fortune just to keep you safe? Dallas?” He spat the name. “He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know how easily you break p>
“I am not broken!” I screamed, the anger finally shattering through my fear.
“You are,” Braydon countered, his voice soothing, patronizing. “But that’s all right. I like fixing you. I like being the one who holds the pieces together. You don’t belong to them anymore—not the bank, not the Rogues. You’re free p>
Free. The word tasted like ash.
𝗥ea𝘥 𝘁𝗵𝘦 𝗹𝗮𝘁eѕ𝗍 𝘵r𝘦n𝗱s оո
“You didn’t free me,” I whispered, the horror rising in my throat. “You just changed the name on the receipt p>
Braydon’s smile faltered. His brow knitted together. “I saved you. I did what no one else would do. I spent a fortune tonight to ensure no one else can touch you p>
“You bought me like cattle!” I screamed. “Just like Silas wanted! Do you think that makes you a hero? You’re just another man who believes his wallet gives him the right to own me p>
“I did this for us!” Braydon roared back, his Alpha aura flaring outward—heavy, oppressive, designed to force submission, to make a wolf bare its neck. But I had no wolf to cow. I had only my rage. “Where is he, Adella? Where is your precious King? Where is Dallas p>
The name hung in the air, charged and electric.
“He isn’t here,” Braydon sneered, stepping closer, backing me into the corner. “He left you to rot among these vipers. If you were truly his Fated Mate, he would have burned the world down to reach you. But who is standing here, in the rain, paying for your life?” He spread his arms wide. “Me p>
“He is twice the man you will ever be,” I spat, tears of frustration stinging my eyes. “He doesn’t need to buy me to know my worth p>
Braydon’s face twisted. The mask of the benevolent savior cracked apart, revealing the ugly, bruised ego beneath. He reached for my arm, his grip immediate and bruising.
“You are coming with me. Tonight. You’ll learn to be grateful p>
“No p>
I didn’t think. I reacted. I grabbed the heavy wooden easel standing beside me—an old oak monstrosity encrusted with dried paint—and swung it with every ounce of strength I had.
It crashed into Braydon’s shoulder. The wood cracked with a sharp, satisfying snap.
He roared in pain and surprise, stumbling back and releasing my arm.
“I am not yours!” I yelled, my voice raw, the words bouncing off the stone walls. I put the broken easel between us, holding my ground. “I will never be yours! I love him! I love my Mate, and I would rather die in this cage than spend a single day in your golden palace p>
Braydon straightened slowly, clutching his shoulder. The look in his eyes had changed. The obsession was still there, but the warmth had been extinguished, replaced by something cold and malignant.
“Fine,” he said, his voice dropping to a quiet, dangerous register. “If you love your cage so much, you can stay in it p>