Chapter 459
Dallas POV
The roar of Anson’s engine faded into the distance, taking my soul with it.
The second the black sedan disappeared past the rusted gates, the iron will holding me together shattered. A violent cough ripped through my chest, and I doubled over. Black blood, thick with the rotting stench of silver poison, splattered across the cashmere blanket on my lap.
Ragnar howled in pure, unadulterated agony, clawing at the severed edges of our mate-bond.
My legs, useless and burning with venom, gave out. I crashed onto the overgrown grass, the impact sending a blinding shockwave of pain through my spine. I didn’t care. I dragged my broken body across the dirt, fingers digging into the earth as I crawled toward the dead Moonpetal bush.
“Duncan,” I rasped, blood bubbling past my lips. “Get it. Please.”
Duncan was at my side in an instant, his face pale with horror. He carefully untangled the necklace from the thorns and placed it in my trembling, bloodstained hands.
I clutched the moonstones to my chest. They still carried the faint, intoxicating scent of her Moonflower. Tears I hadn’t shed in decades carved tracks through the grime on my face.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed into the empty garden, my forehead resting against the dead earth. “I’m so sorry, my Queen.”
I had pushed her away to save her from the Silver Claws, but the cost was destroying me.
Through the blur of my tears, I didn’t notice the glint of glass in the distance. Far down the winding road, Anson Fowler’s car had paused. And in the rearview mirror, the rival Alpha watched the invincible Alpha King weep in the dirt, bleeding and broken.
The asphalt of the highway blurred into a meaningless gray streak. The aftermath of the Rejection was a physical rot spreading through my veins. Every beat of my heart felt like shattered glass grinding against my ribs.
“Pull over,” I choked out, my hands trembling as I gripped the leather seat of Anson Fowler’s sedan.
“Adella, we are almost at my estate —” Anson began, his voice smooth. Too smooth.
“Stop the car!” I gasped, nausea clawing up my throat.
The driver swerved onto the shoulder of the highway bridge over the Blackwood River. I shoved the door open and stumbled out into the late afternoon wind. It whipped my hair as I gripped the rough concrete barrier. Below, the river spun in a dizzying vortex. My knees buckled. The world tilted violently.
Before I hit the ground, strong arms caught me — but it wasn’t the comforting, electric spark of my mate. It was Anson. His Alpha scent, a heavy, suffocating musk of pine and copper, wrapped around me like a chain.
“Adella!” Azalea’s voice pierced through the ringing in my ears. I heard the screech of tires as her car pulled up behind us. “Let her go! I’m calling an ambulance!”
“My car is faster,” Anson barked, his grip tightening possessively around my waist as he lifted me from the ground. “Block the Sterling woman. Don’t let her follow.”
“You can’t do this!” Azalea screamed, but the heavy thud of Anson’s Warriors stepping out to intercept her swallowed her voice.
.