Chapter 641
I froze. Through the thick darkness, I saw her silhouette against the distant ballroom lights. She was moving down the path, her voice laced with frantic worry. Every instinct screamed at me to run to her — to bury my face in her neck and let the only real family I had left hold me together.
But I had made a deal. To save Dallas, I had to become a ghost.
I pressed my back hard against the rough bark of a massive oak tree and held my breath. My Inner Wolf whimpered in protest, begging for the Luna’s comfort, but I forced her down. I stood perfectly still in the shadows, watching Adella walk past my hiding spot, her worried calls slowly fading into the dark.
Vance POV
The heavy fog rolling off the Blackwood territory tasted of ozone from the electric fences and impending doom. It was 3:00 AM. I stood by the main security booth at the estate gates, my Inner Wolf pacing relentlessly, clawing at my ribs. I had broken her heart tonight. I had carved out my own soul to do it, convincing myself it was for her protection.
I didn’t know it then, but up in her bedroom, Princess Azalea was erasing me from her life. I would later learn she had left behind her Chanel dresses, her photos with Adella, and a single note: I will find my own life. Please don’t look for me.
But the most devastating blow was the phantom snap I felt in my chest at that exact moment — the precise second she took scissors to the dark leather bracelet I had soaked in my scent and given her after her agonizing first Shift. She threw the pieces in the trash, purging my scent and my memory from her existence.
The crunch of gravel pulled me from my misery.
Azalea emerged from the mist, dragging a small duffel bag. Her eyes, usually so full of warmth and fire, were dead.
“Open the gates,” she commanded, her tone an icy stranger’s.
I stepped in front of the rune-reinforced iron bars, my massive frame blocking her path. My Inner Wolf whined, tearing at my insides, but my oath held me steady. “Princess Azalea, I cannot do that without the Alpha’s direct command.”
Before she could argue, the low, predatory growl of an engine vibrated through the asphalt. A black Maybach glided out of the shadows and stopped on the street just beyond the gates. The tinted window rolled down, unleashing a suffocating wave of power.
Julian Valerius.
His Alpha aura slammed into me — heavy and arrogant, carrying the scent of old parchment and sharp fir. “She is Valerius blood,” Julian declared, his voice laced with absolute, unquestionable authority. “She is returning to her true Pack. You have no jurisdiction here, Gamma.”
I didn’t dignify him with a response. My eyes stayed locked on Azalea. “Is it true?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t look at me. She simply stared at the open road beyond the gates, her fingers white-knuckled around the strap of her duffel bag.
That silence told me everything. She believed it. Whether it was true or not, she believed it — and that was enough to tear my chest open. But it wasn’t enough to make me step aside.