Chapter 456

With a sharp, violent crunch, I cut the titanium card into jagged pieces and let them fall into the trash. Then I picked up the only thing that truly belonged to me: a battered cardboard box filled with my art supplies.

An hour later, the movers cleared out the last of my boxes. The penthouse fell eerily quiet. I walked out onto the private terrace garden, where the biting winter wind whipped my hair, though the cold was nothing compared to the ice in my veins.

Azalea followed me out. She looked at the small pile of items in my hands — polaroids of Dallas and me, handwritten notes, and a single dried Moonflower he had once given me. She didn’t try to stop me this time. She understood that this was a demolition. Silently, she reached into her pocket and handed me a silver lighter.

I flicked it open. The blue flame caught the edge of the dried Moonflower first. I dropped it into the stone fire pit and watched the fire consume the photos and the lies. As the ashes drifted up into the gray city sky, I felt lighter — and so much colder.

I stared into the flames, completely unaware of the eyes burning into my back.

Across the street, hidden in the deep shadows of a narrow alleyway, a Rogue scout lowered his binoculars. The scent of ash and severed bonds drifted on the wind, reaching him. He belonged to the Crimson Claws — the very assassins Dallas had sacrificed his soul to protect me from.

Watching me sever my final ties to the Alpha King’s protection and wealth, a slow, predatory smile stretched across the Rogue’s scarred face. The King’s impenetrable shield was gone, and the prey was finally out in the open.

I stared into the dying embers of the stone fire pit, the ashes of my past drifting into the unforgiving city sky. Before the heat could even leave my skin, a new scent invaded the terrace — not the comforting storm and cedar I was mourning, but a suffocating blend of expensive cologne and predatory Alpha dominance.

I spun around. Anson Fowler, the Alpha of the Silver Creek Pack and Dallas’s most bitter rival, stood leaning against the glass doors.

“A very decisive display,” Anson purred, his eyes raking over my vulnerable form. “But you are completely unprotected now, Adella. I heard about the King’s public Rejection. Jared Solder and his Rogues are blunt instruments, already circling the scent of your severed bond. I, however, offer a much sharper alternative.”

Azalea snarled, stepping in front of me like a fierce she-wolf protecting her Luna. She tried to push him back with a warning glare, but Anson didn’t even blink. His oppressive Alpha aura flared, forcing a choked gasp from her throat as her knees buckled slightly.

Before I could tell him to back off, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out. Harrison, the Pack Lawyer. I answered.

“Adella,” his voice was tight and trembling. “The final Rejection Agreement is drafted. But Dallas invoked an ancient Pack clause. He demands you sign it in person.”

“Where?” I demanded, my blood running cold.