Chapter 297
Chapter 297:
The adrenaline that had sustained me through the Tribunal Hall, through the confrontation with Marcus’s crimes, had drained away entirely, leaving me hollow. I stared out the window without seeing the trees. I was seeing the past ten years of my life playing on a loop — the fear, the manipulation, the constant looking over my shoulder.
A warm, large hand covered my knee and squeezed gently. The heat of his skin seeped through my jeans, grounding me.
“Breathe, Adella.” Dallas’s voice was low, a rumble that vibrated in my chest.
I inhaled sharply, filling my lungs with the scent that had become my lifeline: ozone, rain, and deep, earthy cedar. The smell of a storm that destroyed everything in its path only to leave the world washed clean.
“Where are we going?” I whispered. My voice sounded brittle, like dry leaves.
“Somewhere they can’t reach you,” he replied, his golden eyes flicking to me for a moment before returning to the road. “My private den. No Pack business. No Council. Just us p>
Twenty minutes later, the trees broke open, revealing a structure that seemed to grow out of the rock itself. It was a cabin, but that word felt too small for the architectural masterpiece of dark timber and floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking a mist-shrouded lake. Isolated, imposing, and utterly impenetrable.
Dallas ushered me inside, his arm wrapped possessively around my waist as if he expected the shadows to snatch me back. The interior was warm, smelling of woodsmoke and leather. He guided me to a massive stone fireplace where flames were already crackling, casting dancing orange light across the room.
He sat me down on the thick bearskin rug and wrapped a heavy wool blanket around my shoulders. I pulled it tight, tucking my chin to my knees, but the shivering wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t the cold — it was the aftershock.
Dallas knelt before me, blocking out the rest of the room. He didn’t speak. He simply waited, his presence a solid wall against my spiraling thoughts.
“I keep waiting for it,” I confessed, my voice trembling. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Marcus is gone, but it feels too easy. Like a dream I’m going to wake up from, back in that attic room p>
𝖬оѕ𝘵 𝘳𝘦ad 𝗍𝗁𝗶s 𝘄𝘦𝖾𝗸 𝗈ո 𝗴𝘢𝗅ո𝗼𝘃е𝗅ѕ.𝘤𝗈𝗆
“Look at me.” His command was soft but carried the weight of an Alpha. I lifted my eyes to his. “You are awake. The monster is in a cage. You put him there p>
“But he has a son,” I whispered, the name already tasting like ash on my tongue. “Braydon p>
The air in the room shifted instantly. A low growl vibrated in Dallas’s chest, and for a split second his pupils dilated, the Lycan surfacing at the mention of a threat. Then he reached out and cupped my face, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones, smoothing away the tension.
“Braydon Hyde is a ghost,” Dallas said, his tone laced with a dangerous finality. “He has no Pack, no title, and no power. He is running, Adella — hiding in the shadows because he knows what awaits him if he steps into the light p>
“He hates me,” I said, a tear escaping to track down my cheek. “He blamed me for everything back then. If he knows what happened today p>