Chapter 716:

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The words struck him like a physical blow. He closed his eyes, an agonizing war raging between his fear of Dallas’s wrath and his desperate need to save his King. Finally, he let out a ragged exhale.

“He’s going to kill us both,” Alistair muttered, though the Vanguard operative’s cold professionalism was already returning to his posture.

He walked to the keypad-locked refrigerator in the corner, punching in a code. He pulled out several containers of medical-grade silicone compounds, pigment solutions, and precision sculpting tools.

“This takes three hours, Luna,” Alistair warned, his tone turning deadly serious as he set the supplies on the metal counter. “I have to mold the prosthetics and apply a chemical scent-blocker strong enough to bury your Moonflower scent and your pregnancy hormones. Once this mask is on, you are no longer Adella. One wrong micro-expression, one spike in your heart rate, and the black-site guards will tear you to pieces.”

“I understand,” I said without a trace of hesitation.

I walked over and sat down in the cold metal chair. Alistair picked up the first layer of freezing silicone, and our secret, treasonous alliance officially began.

Adella’s POV

“The silicone base needs twenty minutes to set before I can sculpt the micro-expressions,” Alistair murmured, his ruined face a mask of cold Vanguard focus. “Go check on him, Luna. But be quick.”

𝖣𝗶s𝖼𝘰𝘷𝘦𝗿 𝗇е𝘸 ѕ𝘁𝗼𝗋і𝖾𝘴 𝗼n 𝗀𝘢𝗅ոо𝘃e𝘭𝘀.𝗰𝗼𝗆

I nodded, slipping out of the freezing medical room and hurrying down the concrete corridor.

When I pushed open the heavy door to the inner sanctuary, the air felt suffocatingly thick. The scent of violent storms and cedar was erratic, laced with the sharp, bitter tang of Dallas’s failing nervous system.

Dallas sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, his broad shoulders hunched. I walked toward him, holding a glass of warm water, but he didn’t look up. He stared blankly at the opposite wall. I stepped directly into his line of sight, yet his storm-gray eyes remained completely unfocused.

My heart violently dropped into my stomach.

He couldn’t see me. The silver-toxin was actively devouring his optic nerves, plunging the Alpha King into temporary, terrifying blindness. Inside his mind, I could feel Ragnar letting out a low, frustrated snarl of absolute helplessness.

I forced the paralyzing panic down, refusing to let my scent sour with fear. I stepped closer until the aroma of moonflowers and rain washed over him.

Dallas’s head snapped up instantly. He reached out, his massive, trembling hands finding my waist and pulling me flush against his chest. He buried his face in my stomach, inhaling deeply as if my scent were the only thing tethering him to the physical world.

“I brought you water,” I whispered, setting the glass on the nightstand. I ran my fingers through his dark hair, gently massaging the rigid, agonizing tension in his neck.

He leaned into my touch, a ragged sigh escaping his lips.

“Dallas, listen to me,” I said, channeling the absolute, unyielding authority of a Luna. “When Healer Henri Laurent gets here, you are going to drop the impenetrable Alpha facade. You will not hide your pain, and you will not fight his methods out of pride. You will let him save you.”

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