Chapter 85
Chapter 85:
The storm outside mirrored the chaos churning inside me since Dallas had left me standing in the hallway. But when sleep finally claimed me, it didn’t bring peace — it dragged me back to the one place I had spent years trying to escape.
The attic.
The air was thick with the smell of rotting wood and old dust. I was sixteen again, small and trembling, curled into a ball on the splintered floorboards. The only light came from the cracks in the boarded-up window, slicing through the darkness like prison bars.
“Open the door!” I screamed, my voice raw. “Please, Braydon p>
On the other side of the heavy oak door, a laugh echoed — cruel and jagged. “Why bother, Adella? You’re just a broken doll. A wolfless defect. Even if you shift, your wolf will probably die of shame p>
The lock clicked — a sound of finality that stopped my heart.
“No!” I sobbed, clawing at the wood until my fingernails bled. “Braydon p>
F𝗶ո𝖽 ոоv𝗲𝘭 P𝘋F𝘀 𝗼n 𝘨𝘢𝗹n𝗈𝗏еlѕ.с𝗈𝗆
A crack of thunder shattered the dream.
I jolted upright, gasping for air, my body drenched in cold sweat. The silk sheets were tangled around my legs like vines. The room was pitch black, save for the strobe-light flashes of lightning illuminating the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Adella p>
The voice was low, vibrating through the darkness. I flinched, scrambling back against the headboard.
Dallas was there. He sat on the edge of the bed, his massive frame silhouetted against the storm — shirtless, his skin pale in the lightning, muscles tense as coiled steel. He must have heard me. An Alpha of his caliber, a former commander, likely slept with one eye open.
“You were screaming,” he said, his voice stripped of the heat from earlier. Now it was ice. “You said a name p>
Braydon.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold air raced down my spine. Through the fragile, invisible thread of the mate-bond, I felt it — a wave of murderous intent so potent it tasted like copper on my tongue. It wasn’t directed at me, but it was terrifying nonetheless. A death sentence whispered in the dark.
“It was just a nightmare,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“Names have power, Adella. Tell me I don’t need to hunt him down tonight p>
I let out a broken sob, the terror of the dream still clinging to me. The sound seemed to snap him out of his trance. The deadly aura retracted instantly, replaced by the scent of rain and cedar.
He moved before I could blink, pulling me into his arms. His skin was warm — a stark contrast to the cold phantom of the attic. I stiffened for a moment, expecting violence, but his hand simply cradled the back of my head, pressing my face into the crook of his neck.
“Breathe,” he commanded softly.
And I did. Surrounded by his strength, the ghost of the attic faded. For the first time in my life, the monster was holding me — and he was keeping the world at bay.
The next morning, the storm had passed, leaving the city scrubbed clean and bright. I walked into the kitchen, feeling the lingering exhaustion in my bones.