Chapter 567
“The silver nearly severed his spine, Vance!” Azalea cried, her voice cracking. I heard the rustle of fabric as she collapsed against the Gamma’s chest. “I should have told him she was pregnant sooner. I shouldn’t have let him play that stupid ghost game. If I had just stopped him, he wouldn’t have been out there—”
“He is the Alpha King,” Vance interrupted, his voice quiet but firm. “He would have burned the world down to protect her, ghost or not.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, guilt and love warring in my chest.
A few minutes later, the door pushed open. Azalea walked in, her eyes bloodshot, her red hair a mess. She looked at me, swallowing hard, before delivering the final blow.
“He’s out of surgery, Adella,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “He survived.”
A massive wave of relief crashed through me — and was instantly frozen by the look on her face.
“But he refuses to see you,” Azalea continued, a tear slipping down her cheek. “He issued a direct command to Duncan. As soon as he is stable enough to travel, he is leaving for Marshall Tower alone. He said — he said his duty is done.”
My hands balled into fists against the white sheets. He was doing it again. Driven by his Lycan pride and that suffocating shame, he was building one final wall between us. He would rather I remember the invincible Alpha King than ever see the man broken by silver.
But he didn’t know that I finally understood his game.
And I was done playing by his rules.
Adella POV
The pale morning light filtering through the blinds of Room 402 offered no warmth. The air was thick with the sterile smell of antiseptic and the earthy tang of my herbal drip. I stared at the untouched cup of water on my nightstand, my chest tight with a suffocating mix of grief and disbelief.
Azalea sat beside my bed, her shoulders slumped. “He moved to a private suite on the top floor,” she murmured, her voice hollow. “He’s refusing all visitors. His security detail is prepping for a noon departure.”
I clenched my fists, the monitor beside me spiking with my heart rate. “He’s just going to leave?”
“He thinks his duty is done,” Azalea said, her eyes welling with fresh tears. “He told Duncan that with Mara gone, you’re safe. He believes the silver damage is permanent. He thinks he’s a broken liability now, and that staying would only drag you and the pup down.”
Duty.
A dry, bitter laugh scraped its way up my throat. He was reducing our blood-soaked, agonizingly beautiful bond to a mere obligation — bleeding out his soul to protect me from his own perceived flaws, deciding my future without giving me a single choice.
Anger surged through my veins, hot and fierce and entirely my own, overriding the sedatives. I reached over and yanked the IV needle from the back of my hand. A bead of blood welled up, but I didn’t care. I threw my legs over the edge of the narrow bed.
“Adella, what are you doing? You’re on strict bed rest!” Azalea gasped, jumping to her feet.