Chapter 603
Dallas glared at the bowl, his Alpha pride and deep-seated insecurities building an impenetrable wall. “I’m not hungry. Take it away.”
I looked at the stubborn, broken King in front of me. Logic wouldn’t work. I needed to bypass his pride and strike directly at his heart.
I let out a soft, deliberate sigh and drew my right hand back, cradling it against my chest. “Fine. I suppose it doesn’t matter that I stood in that kitchen for an hour. Or that I slipped with the knife while chopping the herbs.”
I angled my hand slightly, exposing the fresh white band-aid wrapped around my index finger.
Dallas froze. The suffocating jealousy in the room evaporated instantly, replaced by a spike of pure, primal panic.
“You’re bleeding?” He dropped the laptop, his massive, scarred hands reaching out frantically to grab my wrist. He pulled my hand closer, his eyes scanning the tiny bandage as though it were a fatal wound.
Then his sharp gaze caught the faint, guilty flicker in my eyes. He was a master tactician — it took him only a second to realize the cut was superficial, the gesture a blatant manipulation. But the Alpha instinct to nurture and protect his pregnant Mate completely overrode his anger.
He let out a harsh, defeated groan, his shoulders slumping. “You fight dirty, little moon.”
“Only when I have to,” I whispered.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his thumb brushing my knuckles.
“It hurts less when you eat,” I lied smoothly.
With a heavy sigh of surrender, Dallas picked up the spoon. He grimaced at the extreme, bitter taste of the hidden herbs, but under my watchful gaze he forced down every last drop.
Within twenty minutes, the heavy sedatives took hold. The tension drained from his massive frame, and his eyes fluttered shut as Ragnar was pulled into a deep, unnatural slumber.
I settled into the armchair beside him, gently stroking his dark hair. As the silence settled over the room, Dallas’s brow furrowed.
“…not good enough for her…” he muttered, his voice a broken, unconscious whisper. “…broken…”
My hand stilled. A profound ache bloomed in my chest as I stared at the man I loved, realizing just how deep the silver had truly cut into his soul.
Adella POV
The fragile peace of the VVIP recovery suite shattered at midnight.
A violent thunderstorm had rolled over the Blackwood Pack territory. A jagged flash of lightning flooded the sterile room in blinding white, instantly followed by a deafening crack of thunder that rattled the bulletproof glass.
On the high-tech medical bed, Dallas jerked violently awake. The mild herbal sedatives I had fed him earlier were incinerated in an instant by a massive spike of pure, terrified adrenaline.