Chapter 728:

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Drawing on the psychological anchoring techniques I had secretly learned to survive my mental cage at the Hyde Pack, I pressed my lips to his ear. I matched my breathing to the white noise, whispering a steady, rhythmic cadence of love and safety. My fingers dug deep into his dark hair, finding the damaged nerve pressure points at the base of his skull and massaging them with firm, deliberate pressure.

Slowly, the violent tremors subsided. The white noise, the warmth of my body, and my scent finally shattered the nightmare. Dallas’s rigid muscles melted, and he sank into a heavy, exhausted, coma-like sleep.

I lay beside him in the dim light, tracing the dark, bruised circles under his eyes. My heart ached with a fierce, protective agony. He couldn’t survive another night like this. The silver was killing him.

I looked toward the hidden compartment where I had stashed the stolen Level 9 Neural Regeneration Override Drive. The moment Healer Henri Laurent arrived, I was going to execute my medical trap. I would force the neural repair, even if Dallas woke up and burned the world down in a rage over my deception.

Suddenly, the silence of the sanctuary was broken.

а𝗱𝘥𝗶с𝘁𝗂𝘃е ո𝗼𝗏𝖾𝗅𝘴 𝗼ո 𝗀𝗮l𝘯𝘰𝘷𝗲𝗅ѕ.𝖼𝗼𝗺

The military-grade encrypted comms radio on the nightstand began to flash with a glaring, blinding red light. It was the highest-level emergency signal from Vance and Alistair at the outer perimeter.

Someone had just breached the blast doors.

Adella’s POV

I stared at the glaring red light on the encrypted comms radio. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced my breathing to steady. I quickly tucked the heavy blanket tighter around Dallas’s broad shoulders, ensuring the white noise machine masked my exit.

I sprinted down the concrete corridor toward the underground garage. The freezing air hit me, thick with the suffocating, almost physical tension of two apex predators ready to kill.

Standing just inside the breached blast doors were Azalea and Healer Henri Laurent. Blocking their path like two impenetrable walls of Kevlar and muscle were Gamma Vance Decker and Alistair Croft.

“The Alpha is handling classified matters,” Vance stated, his voice a low, warning rumble. “No entry.”

Azalea didn’t buy it for a second. Her nose twitched, her eyes narrowing as she stepped directly into Vance’s personal space. “You reek of dried Lycan blood and burnt silver, Decker. He’s dying, isn’t he?”

Vance’s jaw clenched. His hand instinctively dropped to the grip of his assault rifle.

It was a fatal, guilty tell. Azalea’s eyes flashed with the lethal, predatory gold of her Sterling bloodline. She bared her fangs, a feral growl tearing from her throat. “If my father dies in there because you locked me out, I will rip your throat out.”

Alistair’s hand instantly hovered over his sidearm. The air pressure plummeted, a bloodbath seconds away from erupting.

“Stand down!”

My voice sliced through the freezing garage, echoing off the concrete with the absolute, unyielding authority of the Luna Regent.

All four heads snapped toward me. Vance and Alistair immediately stepped back, lowering their weapons.

Azalea’s furious gaze locked onto me, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief. “Adella? You are pregnant and wolfless! What the hell are you doing in the Geneva meat grinder? Have you lost your mind?”

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