Chapter 286
Chapter 286:
A slow, dangerous grin spread across Dallas’s face — the look of a King who had just realized his Queen was holding a dagger of her own.
“That’s my girl,” he growled softly, lifting my hand to press his lips against the inside of my wrist. “The real war is just beginning, Adella. But we will win p>
We sat there in the growing light, a united front against the world. I thought we were ready for anything. I thought the ghosts of my past were buried and the only threat left lay ahead in the form of an angry old woman.
I didn’t know that the past wasn’t done with me yet. I didn’t know that outside that door, a debt of blood was waiting to be collected.
Adella
The heavy oak door creaked open, shattering the fragile peace Dallas and I had just built. The scent hit me before the figure did — cloying, sweet, and suffocating. Moonflowers.
Braydon stood in the doorway, his face pale and eyes rimmed with red, clutching a bouquet of the white blooms that used to be my favorite. But now, looking at them, all I could think of was how quickly they wilted once plucked. Just like us.
“Get out,” Dallas growled, the sound vibrating through his chest against my back. His arm tightened around my waist, anchoring me.
Braydon didn’t flinch. He stepped into the room, ignoring the Alpha King’s command, his gaze fixed solely on me. “I needed to see you, Adella. I needed to know you were safe p>
“I’m safe from everyone but you,” I said, my voice devoid of warmth. “Take your flowers and leave, Braydon. I’m done being your charity case. I’m done being the girl you kept around to please your mother p>
Something in Braydon’s expression fractured. The mask of the repentant lover fell away, replaced by a raw, ugly desperation. He threw the flowers onto the sterile floor, the petals scattering like broken promises.
𝘔о𝘳𝘦 𝗇𝗈𝗏e𝗹𝘀 𝗈𝗇.сo𝗺
“Charity?” he laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “You think I kept you alive for charity? You think my mother, Victoria Hyde, would have let a wolfless orphan survive in her Pack if she had a choice p>
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Braydon marched forward, stopping only when Dallas rose to his full height and blocked his path. But Braydon didn’t back down. Instead, he ripped up the sleeve of his dress shirt.
“Look!” he screamed, thrusting his arm toward me.
I gasped. Running from his elbow to his wrist was a jagged, silvery scar — thick, ugly, and unmistakably old. It looked as though the flesh had been melted and poorly reassembled.
“You never asked where I got this,” Braydon hissed, tears streaming down his face. “That night — the fire. The Rogue that tore your parents apart was coming for you next. I was twelve, Adella. Twelve. I didn’t call the warriors. I didn’t wait for help. I jumped into the fire and dragged you out myself p>
The room spun. My breath hitched in my throat.