Chapter 355
“You are dangerous, my Luna,” he murmured, lifting my hand to press his lips against my knuckles. The touch sent a shiver down my spine.
“I am learning from the best,” I whispered.
By the time we reached the penthouse at Marshall Tower, the decision was made.
The city lights sprawled below through the floor-to-ceiling windows — a glittering ocean of indifference. Dallas stood by the glass, phone in hand. I stood a few feet behind him, hands clasped together to stop them from trembling. This was a gamble. If Gigi retreated into denial, we would be on our own.
Dallas dialed. He didn’t put it on speaker, but the room was so quiet I could hear the ringing tone.
“Grandmother,” Dallas said when the line connected, his voice devoid of warmth. “I am sending you a file. It contains proof of a trust fund for a woman named Cassia. Seraphina’s daughter. My father’s bastard.”
Silence stretched on the line. I held my breath.
“She is in the Treasury,” Dallas continued, twisting the knife. “Stealing from the family you claim to protect.”
For a moment, I thought she had hung up. Then Dallas pulled the phone from his ear and tapped the speaker button.
Gigi’s voice filled the room. It wasn’t the wavering, broken voice of the woman we had left behind. It was cold, sharp, and terrifyingly calm — the voice of a Lycan Matriarch.
“I am invoking my right as the Eldest to summon the Council,” she declared, each word like a hammer striking an anvil. “Your father’s filth will be cleansed from our house. By sunrise, the entire Pack will know who their true enemies are.”
Dallas looked at me, a dark satisfaction curling the corner of his mouth. “We will be there,” he replied.
“Bring the girl,” Gigi added, her tone unyielding. “If she is to stand by your side, she needs to see how we slaughter the weak.”
The line went dead.
I looked at my reflection in the dark glass of the window. The wolfless girl was gone.
Tomorrow, the war would begin.
The morning sun brought no warmth to the Marshall Estate — it only served to illuminate the cold, hard edges of its power. We stood in the Grand Foyer, a cavernous space of black and white checkered marble that felt less like a home and more like a courtroom waiting for a verdict.
Beside me, Dallas was a pillar of dark granite, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back. His Lycan aura was retracted tight against his skin, but I could sense the tension coiled within him — a silent warning to anyone who dared to cross us.
And there were people here who desperately wanted to, if only they weren’t so paralyzed by fear.