Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The private suite at the back of the Marshall Jewels flagship store was quieter than a tomb and twice as cold. The walls were frosted glass, thick enough to stop a bullet, sealing us off from the hum of the city outside.

“Mr. Marshall insisted on the Luna Collection for you, Miss Everett,” the store manager said, his voice dripping with professional reverence. He wore white gloves as he placed a black velvet tray on the low glass table between us.

Azalea, who had been sipping a sparkling water, nearly choked. She coughed, her eyes bulging as she stared at the tray.

“The what collection?” she sputtered, looking from the manager to me. “Adelia, why is my father’s staff showing you the royal engagement line p>

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Resting on the velvet was a ring that stole the breath from my lungs—a massive, iridescent moonstone encircled by a halo of black diamonds. It was ancient, heavy, and radiated a power I had no business wearing.

“There must be a mistake,” I said, my voice trembling. I shot a desperate look at Azalea. “We were supposed to be looking for a birthday gift for him. A watch. He must have—the manager must have misunderstood the appointment p>

It was a flimsy lie. The manager’s eyebrows twitched, but he was trained well enough not to correct the Alpha King’s guest.

𝘛𝘩е 𝘮𝗼𝗌𝗍 рo𝘱𝘶𝗹𝖺𝗋 𝗻𝗈𝗏e𝗹s 𝗈𝗻

Azalea narrowed her eyes, her gaze moving between the ring and the mark on my neck. “A misunderstanding? That ring is worth more than the entire Hyde Pack territory. Who exactly is this sugar daddy of yours, Adelia p>

Before I could invent another lie, the heavy glass door to the suite crashed open.

The scent hit me first—sour milk and burning rubber. The smell of an Alpha’s unchecked rage.

Braydon stood in the doorway, chest heaving. He looked manic, his hair disheveled, his eyes wild with fury and humiliation in equal measure.

“I knew it,” he snarled, stepping into the room. The air pressure dropped instantly as he released his aura—a suffocating wave of dominance designed to crush. “You think you can just walk away? You think you can parade around in my rival’s store, trying on crowns you don’t deserve p>

“Braydon, get out,” I whispered, shrinking back into the leather sofa.

“No!” He lunged forward, ignoring Azalea, who had jumped to her feet. He grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin with bruising force. “You are coming home. You are a wolfless charity case, Adelia. You don’t belong in a place like this. You belong to me p>

“Let her go!” Azalea shouted, seizing his arm. “You are in Blackwood territory, Hyde. Back off p>

Braydon shoved her. It was a careless, violent motion that sent the Alpha King’s daughter stumbling back against the display case.

“Stay out of this, princess,” he spat. “This is pack business. She is my property p>

The pain in my wrist was blinding, but watching Azalea stumble sparked something dark in my chest. For years I had let him define me. Wolfless. Weak. Property. But the ring on the velvet tray—and the platinum band already on my finger—told a different story.

I wasn’t just Adelia the wolfless anymore. I was a woman who had bound herself to a monster far more dangerous than Braydon Hyde could ever hope to be.

I stopped pulling away. I went still.

“I am not your property,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

Braydon let out a cruel, barking laugh. “You have nothing without me. No wolf. No family. No money p>

I looked him dead in the eye. “I have a husband p>

The words hung in the air, sharper than any silver blade. Braydon froze. His grip on my wrist loosened by a fraction, shock displacing the anger on his face. In our world, marriage wasn’t simply a piece of paper—it was a binding of souls, a transfer of protection.

“What?” he breathed.

“I’m married, Braydon,” I repeated, yanking my hand free. I stood and smoothed my dress, channeling every ounce of false composure I could summon. “Which means that if you touch me again, you aren’t just assaulting an ex-girlfriend. You are declaring war on another Alpha p>

Braydon’s face turned a mottled shade of red. Humiliation was eating him alive. He took a step toward me, his hand rising as if to strike. “You lying little p>

He never finished the sentence.

Two shadows detached themselves from the corners of the room. I hadn’t noticed the security guards until they were already moving—massive, silent men in black suits with the Blackwood crest pinned to their lapels. They didn’t carry themselves like ordinary guards; they moved like executioners.

“Mr. Hyde,” the manager said, his voice ice-cold, a phone held in his gloved hand. “You are trespassing. You have five seconds to leave before I notify the Alpha King that you assaulted his guests p>

Braydon looked at the guards. Then at me. The power dynamic had shifted so violently it left him visibly reeling.

He lowered his hand, but the look he fixed on me was pure venom.

“You think a ring saves you?” he hissed, backing toward the door. “I don’t care who he is. I will find him. I will challenge him for you, and I will tear his throat out. And when he’s dead, you’ll crawl back to my pack on your knees p>

He turned and stormed out, leaving a trail of toxic fury in his wake.

I sank back onto the sofa, my legs dissolving to jelly. He was going to challenge my husband. Braydon Hyde was going to challenge Dallas Marshall.

A hysterical laugh rose in my throat. He had just threatened to kill the Lycan King—and he didn’t even know it. He hadn’t merely signed his own death warrant. He had gift-wrapped it.