Chapter 7 No.7

Adella POV

The silence in the penthouse was heavy, weighted with the scent of roasted rosemary and the ozone-charged storm that was Dallas Marshall's natural aroma. Sitting at the massive ebony dining table, I felt like an imposter in a king's court. The city lights of New York glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a sprawling galaxy beneath our feet, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the man at the head of the table.

Dallas sliced his steak with surgical precision, his face a mask of indifference. Beside me, Azalea was vibrating with barely suppressed rage.

"You should have seen him, Dad," Azalea said, stabbing a potato with her fork. "Braydon Hyde. He grabbed her arm like he owned her. In the middle of a public store! You can't just blacklist him. You need to crush him. Burn the Hyde Pack to the ground."

The fork froze halfway to my mouth. A cold spike of terror pierced my chest, instantly overriding my appetite.

Burn it to the ground.

"No," I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

Dallas paused, his knife resting against the porcelain plate with a soft clink. He lifted his gaze, his obsidian eyes locking onto mine. "No?"

My hands started to tremble, and I hid them in my lap, clenching the linen napkin. "Please, Dallas. You can't destroy the whole Pack."

"They hurt you," Azalea argued, her brows knitting together. "Why would you defend them?"

"It's not Braydon I'm worried about," I said, my voice shaking. "When the Hyde Pack absorbed my parents' territory... they took in the families who worked our land. The elderly, the wolfless, the ones too weak to fight back. They are still there, living in the shadows of the estate. If you declare total war... if you destroy their economy or their homes... they are the ones who will starve first."

I looked at Dallas, pleading silently. I was asking a monster to show mercy, a businessman to ignore profit and vengeance.

Dallas set his knife down. He picked up his wine glass, swirling the dark red liquid, watching the legs run down the side.

"Do you think I am a blunt instrument, Adella?" his voice was low, a velvet rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards.

"I... I don't know," I admitted.

"I don't carpet bomb," he said, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I use a scalpel. My war is with the Hyde bloodline, not the dirt they walk on or the people they subjugate." He took a sip, his gaze never leaving my face. "I have done my due diligence. I know exactly who lives on the Moonstone Creek estate. No harm will come to the innocent."

I blinked, stunned. Due diligence? He spoke as if he knew the demographics of a fallen pack better than I did. A strange warmth bloomed in my chest, confusing me. Why would the Alpha King care about a few dozen displaced workers?

Before I could ask, a sharp buzz from the wall panel interrupted us.

The intercom crackled to life. "Alpha Marshall. We have a situation in the lobby."

Dallas didn't even look at the panel. "Report."

"It's Braydon Hyde, sir," the head of security said, his voice tense. "He's demanding entry. He claims Miss Everett is a ward of the Hyde Pack and that we are unlawfully detaining her."

The blood drained from my face. The fork clattered onto my plate.

He's here.

Phantom fingers seemed to bruise my arm again. The air in the room suddenly felt too thin. I could smell Braydon's cheap cologne in my memory, feel his hot breath on my neck. I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor.

"He found me," I whispered, panic seizing my throat. "He's going to take me back."

"Sit down, Adella," Dallas commanded. It wasn't a shout, but the sheer authority in his voice made my body obey before my mind could process it.

Dallas stood up. He didn't look angry. He looked... bored. He walked over to the intercom panel on the wall, his movements fluid and predatory. He pressed the talk button.

"Put him on," Dallas said.

A second later, Braydon's voice filled the room, distorted by the speaker but unmistakable in its arrogance. "Marshall! Send her down. You have no right to keep her. She belongs to the Hyde Pack. If you don't release her, I'll-"

"You will do nothing," Dallas interrupted. His voice dropped an octave, laced with a growl that made the hair on my arms stand up. It was the Alpha's Command-pure, distilled dominance. "Listen closely, boy. You are trespassing on my territory. You have exactly sixty seconds to remove yourself from my building."

"You can't threaten me!" Braydon spluttered, though his voice wavered. "I want to see Adella!"

"If you are not outside these doors in sixty seconds," Dallas continued, his tone icy and final, "I will consider it an act of war. I will have you arrested for cross-Pack trespassing and harassment of the Alpha King's Mate. And then, I will personally come down there and remove your head from your shoulders."

Silence stretched over the line. Heavy. Suffocating.

Then, the sound of shuffling feet. The connection clicked off.

Dallas released the button and turned back to us. The lethal darkness in his eyes vanished, replaced by that unreadable calm.

"Eat your dinner, Adella," he said, walking back to his chair as if he hadn't just threatened to execute a rival heir.

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. "He... he could still come up. The elevators..."

"The elevators require a retina scan," Dallas said, picking up his knife. "Currently, only three people in this world have clearance to access this floor. Myself, Azalea, and you." He looked at me, his expression softening just a fraction. "The contract isn't just paper, Adella. It's a wall. And nothing gets past my walls."

I looked at the man sitting across from me. For years, I had feared Alphas. I had feared their power, their tempers. But as the scent of cedar and storm wrapped around me, displacing my fear, I realized something terrifying.

I wasn't afraid of him. For the first time in my life, I felt safe. And that was far more dangerous than fear.