Chapter 476

I didn’t cry. I reached out and took the settlement. Then, with every ounce of strength in my wolfless body, I ripped the thick stack of papers straight down the middle.

Augusta gasped in sheer horror.

I tore the halves again, letting the shredded pieces flutter to the floor like worthless confetti. “I cannot be bought, Augusta,” I said, my voice ringing with absolute, icy clarity. “Tell your Alpha King that I want nothing from him but the truth.”

Gigi let out a low, approving chuckle from the bed.

Augusta’s face turned a mottled red. “You are a fool,” she hissed, turning on her heel and storming out of the suite.

Yara lingered for a fraction of a second. Her eyes met mine, and in that brief moment I saw something unexpected — not pity, not triumph, but a flicker of what looked unmistakably like respect. Then she turned and followed the Elder out.

The adrenaline crash hit me hard. My knees trembled, and the room spun slightly. “I need some air,” I murmured to Gigi, stepping into the quiet hallway.

I leaned against the cool stone wall and closed my eyes.

Footsteps approached rapidly. Before I could react, a shoulder brushed against mine. I stumbled, my eyes snapping open to see Yara walking past.

“Watch where you’re going,” she said flatly, loud enough for the guards at the end of the hall to hear.

But as she passed, her hand moved with practiced speed. I felt a small, crumpled piece of paper pressed firmly into my palm. She didn’t look back, her heels clicking sharply as she disappeared around the corner.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I slipped into a secluded alcove beneath a portrait of a past Alpha and unrolled the crumpled napkin.

Scrawled hastily in black eyeliner were three lines:

Dr. Alistair Vance’s private wing. West 12th. Tonight. 10 PM. Use the service entrance.

I stared at the messy handwriting, my breath catching in my throat. Why was Dallas’s new companion giving me a secret location? Was it a trap? Or was Gigi right about everything?

I crushed the napkin in my fist and shoved it deep into my coat pocket. I looked at the grandfather clock at the end of the hall. It was already past eight.

I had to get to West 12th.

Adella POV

The biting wind of West 12th Street whipped through my thin coat. It was 9:55 PM. The alleyway behind Dr. Alistair Vance’s private clinic smelled of damp trash and harsh bleach. It felt entirely absurd to be trusting the woman who had been playing the role of Dallas’s new companion, but Gigi’s words echoed relentlessly in my mind. He is protecting you.

I found the service entrance exactly where Yara’s note implied. A heavy metal door was propped open by a red medical waste bin. I slipped inside, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The narrow clinic corridor was bathed in the eerie glow of blue emergency lights, casting twisted shadows across the polished concrete floor. Beneath the overwhelming stench of antiseptic, I caught it — a faint, agonizingly weak trace of storm and cedar. Dallas.