Chapter 401
“Save your breath, Adelia.” Duncan Whitaker’s voice bled through the thick wood, sharp and devoid of any warmth.
“Duncan! Let me out! You don’t understand — Braydon trapped me—”
“We saw the footage,” the Beta interrupted, his tone laced with absolute disgust. “We saw you in the Moon Goddess Garden with him. While our Alpha bleeds, you play your twisted games.”
“No! That wasn’t me!” I sobbed, sliding down the cold surface of the door.
“The Elders have been summoned,” Duncan continued, his words falling like an executioner’s strikes. “The Alpha King has ordered the Rejection ceremony. It is over. You will remain here until the legal proceedings begin.”
His footsteps faded down the hall.
Rejection. The word was a silver blade twisting into my chest. Dallas believed the lies. He was going to sever everything we had built. The thought of losing him — of him waking up and choosing to erase me from his life — crushed the air from my lungs, leaving me gasping on the sterile floor.
Click.
The electronic lock flashed green. The door swung open, revealing not Duncan, but Dr. Liam Barber. His white coat was slightly rumpled, his eyes wide with urgency.
“Get up, Luna,” Liam ordered, stepping inside and pulling the door shut behind him.
“He’s rejecting me, Liam,” I choked out, wiping my tear-stained face. “He thinks I betrayed him.”
“And his Lycan is tearing him apart because of it,” Liam said grimly, pulling a bundle of blue fabric from his bag. “His body is rejecting all medical treatment. Ragnar is thrashing, driving him toward self-destruction. If you don’t reach him and calm that beast, he won’t survive the night.”
My grief hardened instantly into a cold, sharp focus. “Duncan won’t let me near him.”
“Duncan is a fool blinded by loyalty,” Liam muttered. “I checked the logs. Nurse Anya wasn’t even scheduled for the twenty-second floor today. This entire isolation is a setup. But Duncan and Vance are guarding the main doors like hellhounds. We have to go around them.” He tossed the bundle at me — a janitor’s uniform and a faded blue cap. “Put these on.” He pressed a small glass vial into my hand. “And spray this everywhere. It’s a chemical scent neutralizer. It smells like industrial bleach, but it will mask your natural scent. You have ten minutes until the shift change.”
I didn’t hesitate. I stripped off my cashmere sweater — the one Braydon’s decoy had so perfectly replicated — and pulled on the scratchy, oversized scrubs. I sprayed the bitter liquid over my neck and wrists, gagging slightly as it smothered my natural scent.
“There’s a service corridor behind the VIP wing,” Liam said, handing me a blank white keycard. “Take the dirty laundry cart outside this room and follow the corridor to the end. There’s an unmarked door — it leads directly into the ensuite bathroom of Room 2201. I’ll create a distraction.”
“Thank you, Liam,” I whispered.