Chapter 529
They didn’t argue with the King. The moment the heavy doors clicked shut behind them, my knees buckled. I collapsed into the armchair by the fireplace, gasping for air. When I looked down, a fresh dark crimson stain was already seeping through the silk robe over my heart. The port had torn.
I didn’t care. I looked at Duncan, who was staring at my bleeding chest in horror.
“Get me a suit,” I snarled, wiping a bead of cold sweat from my temple. “And the strongest painkillers we have. I’m going to Le Bernardin.”
The crisp autumn air outside Le Bernardin did nothing to clear the heavy fog in my mind. I had declined Julian’s offer for a ride back to my apartment, needing the solitude to process the Faustian bargain I had just made. Selling my future to an Alpha I didn’t love felt like swallowing glass, but it was the only weapon I had left.
I descended into the dimly lit underground parking garage. The concrete walls echoed with the sharp click of my heels, the air smelling faintly of exhaust and damp earth.
I was ten feet from my car when the roar of an engine shattered the silence.
A black, bulletproof Bentley shot out from around the corner like a silent beast, its tires screeching as it swerved violently to block my path. My heart leaped into my throat. The driver’s door flew open, and Dallas Marshall stepped out.
He looked like a ghost. His skin was ashen, completely drained of color, but his storm-gray eyes burned with a terrifying, feral fury. He wore a pristine tailored suit, but his hands were shaking, and his pallor was that of a man who should have been in a hospital bed.
“Dallas, what the hell—”
He didn’t speak. He closed the distance between us in two long strides, his hand shooting out to wrap around my wrist. His grip was iron-tight, yet I could feel a faint, unnatural tremor in his fingers. The moment his skin met mine, a violent jolt of sparks erupted up my arm, the broken mate-bond singing its tragic, undeniable song.
“Let me go!” I thrashed against him, but he ignored my struggles, dragging me toward the heavy metal door of the fire stairwell in the corner of the garage.
He shoved the door open, pulled me into the freezing concrete space, and let it slam shut behind us. The echo was deafening.
He backed me into the corner, his chest heaving. “Julian Thorne?” he snarled, his voice a raw, guttural scrape. “You’re going to wear his ring?”
“It’s none of your business!” I shoved hard against his chest. He flinched—a microscopic tightening of his jaw—but didn’t budge. “You pushed me away! You don’t get to play the jealous, possessive Alpha now!”
“I am protecting you!” he roared, slamming his hands against the concrete on either side of my head, caging me in.
“By controlling me?” I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Is that why you Rejected me, Dallas? Because a wolfless girl was too much for a broken King to handle? Or can you not handle any woman?”
The words struck him like a poisoned blade. The air in the stairwell vanished.