His ice-blue eyes, wild and darkened with an unrecognizable fury, swept the dim room before locking onto the corner.
I had dragged a spare blanket and two pillows off the massive king-size bed, creating a pathetic little fortress on the cold hardwood floor. It was the only rebellion I had left after Eleanor confiscated the keys and locked me in here.
A low, dangerous growl vibrated in Dallas's chest. When he spoke, the sheer weight of his Alpha's Command made my knees tremble. *"What is this pathetic display?"*
I forced myself to stand taller, digging my fingernails into my palms to stop the shaking. "Your mother locked the guest room," I said, my voice tight. "I am your prisoner, Dallas, not your Mate."
The word *prisoner* snapped whatever thin thread of control he had left.
In a blur of motion, he crossed the room and grabbed my arm. His grip was brutal, his massive fingers biting into my flesh. A sharp cry of pain escaped my lips, but it was the look in his eyes that truly terrified me.
Staring into those glacial depths, the horrifying truth clicked into place. He knew. The absolute, possessive madness swirling in his gaze wasn't just about me sleeping on the floor. He knew about Clark. He knew about my plan to take back Algorithm 405 and 406.
I wasn't just dealing with a cold husband anymore; I was facing an Alpha who realized his property was actively plotting a war.
At the sound of my whimper, Dallas jerked his hand back as if my skin had burned him. A flash of conflict-undoubtedly his inner wolf, Kael, screaming at him for hurting his Mate-crossed his features. But he buried it instantly beneath a mask of cruel indifference.
"Freeze on the floor for all I care," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "A weak, disobedient Mate is useless to this Pack."
He turned his back on me and stalked into the master bathroom. A second later, the harsh hiss of the shower turning on echoed through the suite. Cold water. He was trying to drown out his own wolf.
I collapsed back onto my makeshift bed, pulling the thin blanket up to my chin. The adrenaline faded, leaving behind the agonizing reality of the Bond-Rejection Sickness. My core temperature plummeted. My bones ached with a deep, unnatural chill, and violent shivers wracked my frail body. The hardwood floor felt like a slab of ice, draining whatever life I had left.
I don't know how long I lay there in the dark, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.
The water stopped.
A tall, imposing shadow emerged from the bathroom. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for another argument, but he moved with absolute silence. Before I could even register his proximity, strong arms slid under my knees and behind my back.
I gasped, weakly pushing against his solid chest, but I weighed nothing to him. His movements were entirely different now-stripped of the earlier violence, replaced by an unyielding, terrifyingly gentle possession.
Dallas carried me across the room and laid me down on the center of the king-size mattress. He pulled the heavy Egyptian cotton duvet over my shivering form. He didn't say a single word, but his scent-the crisp, overwhelming aroma of cedarwood-wrapped around me like a chain.
The moment his hands left me, I scrambled like a frightened animal to the absolute farthest edge of the mattress. I curled into a tight ball, turning my back to him, putting as much physical distance between us as the bed allowed.
I felt the mattress dip as Dallas lay down on the opposite side. He mirrored my position, his broad back turned to me.
We lay in the dark, separated by an ocean of hostile, suffocating silence. He had forced me into the ultimate symbol of our bond, physically claiming his territory, but my mind was racing. The golden cage was shrinking, and I knew I had to find a way out before it crushed me completely.