Chapter 38
Chapter 38:
The smell of him — rage and storm and spice — filled my lungs, intoxicating and terrifying all at once.
“You want to talk about complications, Adella?” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear, sending a shiver of dread down my spine. “I’ll show you complications p>
He reached into his pocket and slammed the crumpled box of Plan B onto the counter beside me. The sound rang out in the silent kitchen like a judge’s gavel sealing my fate.
“You think this gives you control?” He leaned back, his golden eyes boring into my soul, stripping me bare. “You have no idea what you’ve just started p>
The silence that followed his declaration was heavier than the marble countertop digging into my spine. Dallas didn’t shout. He didn’t throw things. Instead, he moved with a terrifying, deliberate slowness that made my heart hammer against my ribs like a trapped bird.
He reached for the crumpled box, his large fingers tearing through the cardboard with effortless precision. The sound of the foil blister pack popping echoed in the vast kitchen like a gunshot. He placed the single small white pill on the cold granite between us, then filled a glass of water from the tap, the rush of liquid the only other sound in the room.
He slid the glass next to the pill.
“Do it,” he said. His voice was devoid of the warmth that had confused me over the last few days — pure ice, sharp enough to cut.
𝖩оі𝗻 𝘰ur 𝗰о𝘮m𝘶𝗻𝗂𝘵𝘆 о𝗇
I stared at the pill. It looked so harmless, so small, yet it felt like a grenade waiting to detonate the fragile bridge between us.
“Dallas, please. You don’t understand. I’m not trying to p>
“Prove it,” he cut me off, leaning in. His hands gripped the edge of the counter on either side of me, trapping me in his scent — cedar, rain, and the ozone of a gathering storm. The gold in his eyes swirled violently, Ragnar clawing at the surface. “After last night — after you gave yourself to me — you would poison yourself to prevent what we created? Is the thought of carrying my child truly that repulsive p>
The air grew heavy, dense with the weight of an Alpha’s Command. It wasn’t a physical force but a psychological crushing, a compulsion that made my hand tremble as I reached out. Every instinct screamed at me to submit, to apologize, to beg for his touch. But my mind was a fortress built on fear. Breeder. The word Braydon had planted in my head flashed like a neon warning sign.
I couldn’t be that. I wouldn’t be just a vessel. I knew taking the pill would tear his pride apart, but ten years of trauma screamed that I couldn’t surrender my autonomy yet — not until I was sure.
With shaking fingers, I picked up the pill. Dallas watched, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. I saw a flicker of something in his eyes — a desperate hope that I would throw it away, that I would choose him.