Chapter 93

Chapter 93:

Thirty minutes later, Dallas’s black armored Bentley idled at the wrought-iron gates of Hyde Manor. The rain had started falling halfway through the drive, turning the world into a blur of grey and charcoal.

The manor loomed in the darkness, its windows dark save for a single light burning on the second floor. It looked less like a home and more like a mausoleum.

Dallas didn’t unlock the doors immediately. He turned in his seat, his large frame filling the space, making me feel safe in a way I never had before.

“One hour,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I will be right here. I am not leaving you in that place alone. If you are not out in sixty minutes, I am coming in — and I will tear that house down brick by brick to find you p>

I looked at him — the sharp jawline, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. He was my anchor in this storm.

“One hour,” I repeated.

𝖱𝘦сo𝘮me𝗇𝘥 𝗴𝘢lnо𝘷е𝗹s.с𝘰𝗆 𝘵о 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝘳 𝗳𝗋i𝗲𝘯𝘥𝘀

I stepped out into the rain. The cold drops stung my cheeks, waking me up. I walked up the long driveway, my heels clicking on the wet pavement. When I reached the massive oak doors, I didn’t have to knock. A maid — her face pale, her eyes wide — pulled the door open.

I stepped across the threshold. The air inside was stale, thick with the smell of dust, old wax, and the cloying, metallic scent of sickness.

I looked up the grand staircase toward the light spilling from Braydon’s room. My heart hammered against my ribs — not with fear, but with a grim, quiet determination.

I began to climb.

The hallway smelled of sickness. Not the sterile scent of a hospital, but something earthier, darker — like wet leaves rotting on a forest floor. It was the scent of a wolf fading, its spirit untethering from its host.

I pushed open the heavy oak door to Braydon’s bedroom.

The room was stiflingly hot. Heavy velvet curtains blocked out the rain, and a single bedside lamp cast long, distorted shadows against the walls. Braydon was propped up against a mountain of pillows, his skin grey and clammy. He looked smaller than I remembered, stripped of his arrogance and his expensive suits.

“Adella,” he croaked, his eyes fluttering open. “You came p>

He reached a trembling hand toward me. “My wolf… he’s quiet. He misses you. He needs his mate p>

I didn’t take his hand. I stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over my chest, feeling nothing but a hollow sort of pity.

“I am not your mate, Braydon. You made sure of that when you rejected me p>

His face twisted, a flash of the old irritation breaking through the invalid act. “I did what I had to do for the Pack! But I can fix it. We can fix it.” He struggled to sit up, his breathing ragged. “You can’t stay with him, Adella. You don’t know what he is p>

“I know exactly who he is,” I said calmly. “He is the man who saved me while you watched me bleed p>