Chapter 571
Because I was wolfless, I had no mental shield to block the intrusion. Dosha’s voice echoed in my skull, dripping with malice. “The Goddess gives, and the Goddess takes away, little bird. Enjoy your broken King while you can.”
I gasped, a violent wave of nausea crashing through me. I doubled over slightly, clutching my abdomen.
Dallas’s head snapped toward me. His storm-gray eyes instantly bled into the glowing, predatory silver of Ragnar. A low, murderous growl vibrated in his chest, shaking the bed frame. “She’s in your head,” he snarled, his muscles coiling as if ready to tear an invisible enemy apart.
“She’s watching us,” I whispered, fighting the dizziness.
“She’s doing more than watching,” Azalea’s voice cut through the tension. She stepped out from the shadows near the window, her expression hardened beyond her years.
She walked over and drew a heavy envelope sealed with blood-magic wax from her jacket, pressing it into my hands.
“What is this?” I asked, feeling the hum of magic beneath the paper.
“My entire trust fund,” Azalea said without hesitation. “Fifty million dollars, including all offshore assets. I’ve signed it over to you, Adella. Use it to bypass the Marshall committee. Hire the Blood Witches. Snipe the Crimson Paw Pack in the financial markets. Protect our empire.”
Dallas stared at his adopted daughter. The raw, profound respect that softened his hardened features spoke volumes. We were no longer just a family — we were a war council.
Before I could thank her, the heavy oak door swung open. Harrison Croft, the Pack’s chief legal counsel, walked in, his face ashen.
“It’s worse than we thought,” Harrison announced, locking the door behind him. “Dosha just filed a formal petition with the Elders. She acquired your classified Zurich medical files, Dallas.”
Dallas went completely rigid. The silver in his eyes flared dangerously.
“The files diagnosing you as permanently sterile from the silver toxicity,” Harrison continued, his voice tight. “Dosha claims the pup Adella is carrying cannot be yours. She’s demanding a bloodline ritual supervised by the Elders to verify the child’s legitimacy.”
A deafening roar tore from Dallas’s throat. The sheer force of Ragnar’s fury shattered the glass pitcher on the bedside table. The bloodline ritual was highly invasive — the dark magic involved could easily kill a developing pup. Dosha wasn’t just trying to steal the throne. She was trying to murder our child legally.
Dallas ripped the IV from his arm, blood beading at the puncture as he tried to stand, ready to slaughter his way through the Elders’ council.
“Dallas, stop!” I pressed both hands flat against his chest. The golden warmth of our mate-bond flared between us, forcing him to look at me. “We are not subjecting our child to a lethal ritual.”
I turned to Harrison, my fear evaporating into cold, hard clarity. “Tell the Elders we welcome their scrutiny. But remind them of The Ancient Pack Covenant.”
Harrison frowned, his brow furrowing as he searched his encyclopedic knowledge of Pack law. Then his eyes widened in absolute shock.