Chapter 563
“Please, Kieran.” I placed a hand over my pregnant belly and looked up at his dark visor. “I’m begging you.”
I felt the violent clash of his instincts through our muted bond. His tactical logic was screaming at him to keep me locked inside, but the Alpha within him — the father of my pup — could not deny his distressed Mate.
His gloved hands clenched into fists. Then he let out a harsh breath. “Ten minutes. Stay close.”
I held out the thermos. “Drink some. You look like you need it more than I do.”
He hesitated, then took it, his fingers brushing mine through the fabric of his gloves. As we stepped out of the safe house and into the freezing, blinding mist, I knew I was walking him straight into my trap.
I just didn’t know we were walking into someone else’s, too.
Adella POV
The fog clung to us like a damp shroud as we reached the empty park. I sat on the cold wooden bench, watching Kieran take another sip from the thermos. I was counting the seconds, waiting for the heavy sedatives to drag his massive frame down.
But before his knees could even begin to buckle, the hunched scavenger I had seen earlier emerged from the gray haze, pushing her rusted cart straight toward us.
Kieran was on his feet instantly, his broad shoulders squaring. “Halt.” The voice modulator carried the unmistakable weight of an Alpha’s Command.
The woman didn’t flinch. She lifted her head, revealing hollow, feral eyes. Her face was gaunt, her lips cracked, her expression twisted with a hungry, malicious hunger that made the air around her feel wrong.
“Dallas Marshall,” she rasped.
Kieran went completely rigid.
“Look at the great Alpha King,” the Rogue sneered, her voice dripping with contempt as she brought the cart to a stop. “Hiding behind a mask like a pathetic coward.”
I stared at him, my pulse roaring in my ears. Of course it was him. The confirmation landed like a fist to my chest, stealing the air from my lungs.
The Rogue — Mara — turned her manic eyes to me. “Do you know why he’s hiding, you stupid wolfless bitch? He’s ashamed of you. Ashamed of his crippled body. Ashamed of the pup you carry that he can never claim.”
“No,” I breathed, my chest tightening. I looked at the man behind the dark visor. “Dallas — is it true?”
He swayed. The sedatives were fighting a brutal war against his adrenaline, but it wasn’t just the drugs keeping him silent. The agonizing shame radiating through our muted bond was answer enough. His silence landed like a physical blow, shattering the fragile hope in my chest. He didn’t deny it.
Before I could process the crushing weight of that, Mara lunged.
She ripped a blade from her cart — a jagged dagger gleaming with the deadly, unmistakable sheen of silver. But she didn’t aim for the towering warrior. She aimed straight for my swollen belly.
I froze, my wolfless reflexes far too slow to dodge the strike.