Chapter 337
My fingers fumbled as I dialed his number. It rang once.
“I’m in my office, little wolf,” Dallas’s voice filled the car — deep and rumbling, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. “Waiting for you.”
A shiver ran down my spine, but this time it wasn’t from pleasure. It was fear. His tone was so perfect, so possessive. Little wolf. Was that affection, or was he reminding me of what I wasn’t?
“I’m coming,” I said, my voice hollow to my own ears. “I’m almost there.”
“Good,” he murmured. “I can feel you getting closer. The bond is restless today.”
I hung up before I could shatter.
“Change of plans,” I told the driver, my voice hardening into something brittle but sharp. “Take me to the Tower. The private entrance.”
I wasn’t going to run. I was going to look the Alpha King in the eye, and if I saw even a flicker of deception, I would burn this whole kingdom down.
The black SUV wove through the city streets, approaching the looming silhouette of Marshall Tower. It stood like a dark obelisk against the sky — a fortress of glass and steel. The driver turned down the secluded alleyway leading to the private VIP entrance, a heavily fortified gate reserved for the Alpha and his inner circle.
The car came to a smooth halt. I drew a deep breath, trying to summon the ghost of the courage Azalea had sparked in me earlier. I reached for the door handle and stepped out onto the pavement.
The wind was knocked out of me.
Leaning against a sleek grey sports car parked right beside the entrance, arms crossed over his chest, was Braydon.
He had beaten me here.
He pushed himself off the car, that same triumphant, serpentine smile playing on his lips. He stepped forward to block the path to the glass doors, planting himself squarely between me and the truth I needed to find.
“You didn’t think I’d let you walk into the lion’s den alone, did you, Adella?” he said smoothly.
“Get out of my way, Braydon.”
My voice trembled — not with fear, but with a volatile cocktail of adrenaline and nausea. The towering glass façade of Marshall Tower loomed above us, reflecting the grey sky, but the real storm was standing right in front of me.
“I can’t do that, Adella,” Braydon said, his voice dropping to a patronizing soothe that made my skin crawl. He took a step closer, closing the small gap between us. “You’re walking into a trap. Dallas isn’t your mate — he’s your jailer. I’m the only one here trying to save you.”
“I don’t need saving from him,” I snapped, trying to sidestep him toward the heavy glass doors where two security guards — Warriors in black suits — watched us with narrowed eyes. “I need answers.”