Chapter 726:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

“I manipulated Silas because I spent three years locked in a mental cage by Braydon Hyde,” I said, my voice dead calm, forcing him to look me in the eye. “I know exactly how to exploit the fragile ego of a pathetic, hypocritical Alpha. I knew what I was doing.”

Alistair swallowed hard, but the terror in his eyes remained.

“We are not betraying Dallas; we are stopping him from choosing a glorious death,” I vowed, channeling the absolute, unyielding authority of my title. “I swear on my position as Luna Regent, and on the life of the pup growing inside me, I will shield you from his wrath. You have my absolute protection.”

The crushing guilt in Alistair’s eyes evaporated. Sensing the raw, unbreakable resilience in my soul, his entire posture shifted, submitting completely to my authority. He stood at rigid attention, bringing his right fist over his left breast in a flawless Vanguard salute. We were no longer just accomplices; we were soldiers in the same trench, united against our King’s suicidal stubbornness.

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Suddenly, the red warning light on the wall console flashed.

Gamma Vance Decker’s exhausted, hyper-vigilant voice crackled through the encrypted comms. “Alpha is inbound. Three minutes to the underground garage.”

Panic spiked in my chest. “Burn it,” I ordered.

I stripped off the dark, tailored suit reeking of Lake Geneva’s mist and Beatrice Vance’s custom perfume, shoving it straight into the medical incinerator. The flames roared, devouring the evidence. Alistair moved with terrifying speed, locking the chemical solvents, scent blockers, and melted mask fragments into the biometric safe.

I rushed to the stainless-steel sink, turning the icy water on full blast. I scrubbed my face and neck frantically, my skin turning red as I desperately tried to wash away the sterile, synthetic residue of the chemicals. I needed my natural moonflower aroma to return. Shivering, I pulled Dallas’s oversized sweater over my head, instantly wrapping myself in his comforting scent of violent storms and cedar.

I stepped out of the medical room just as the heavy blast doors of the underground garage groaned open.

The ventilation shafts immediately flooded with a horrifying, suffocating stench. It wasn’t just the smell of vehicle exhaust; it was the thick, metallic tang of Lycan blood, raw cordite, and the sickening, acrid burn of silver bullets tearing through flesh.

I stood in the center of the corridor, my wolfless heart hammering against my ribs. I clenched my fists, staring into the dim, industrial shadows of the garage, waiting for my King to emerge. I had the stolen neural drive hidden away, but as the scent of pure slaughter rolled over me, I prayed my hastily scrubbed skin could hide my treason from the most lethal predator on earth.

.

.

.