Chapter 230
Chapter 230:
Her heel caught on the wheel of a utility cart. She stumbled hard against the towering metal shelving. The entire unit violently shuddered. Above her, a heavy wooden crate packed with solid brass candlesticks tipped over the edge.
It plummeted straight toward her head.
Grant moved with terrifying, unnatural Lycan speed. He lunged forward, hauling Carmella flush against his broad chest and twisting his body to shield her.
The heavy crate slammed directly into Grant’s spine with a sickening thud. Brass candlesticks exploded across the linoleum floor like shrapnel.
Carmella gasped, frozen against his chest. For a fraction of a second, Grant just held her. He closed his eyes, burying his face in her dark hair, greedily inhaling her scent as if it were the only oxygen left on earth.
“Oh my god!” Carmella panicked, shoving against his chest to check his back. “Are you hurt? I’m so clumsy, I’m so sorry p>
Grant’s large hand clamped around her wrist, halting her frantic movements. He didn’t even flinch from the impact. His eyes locked onto hers, burning with a dark, feral possessiveness that made the air crackle.
“You will go home,” Grant whispered, his voice dropping into a lethal, ice-cold frequency. “You will rest. And you will stay away from that man p>
Carmella stared at him, her chest heaving in absolute terror and confusion under his unyielding dominance. She yanked her wrist free, dropped her clipboard, and bolted. She sprinted out of the storeroom, rushing blindly past my hiding spot and disappearing down the corridor.
Grant didn’t chase her. He stood alone amidst the scattered brass, his eyes closed, his chest expanding as he inhaled the lingering, faint trace of her scent she had left behind.
I stepped out from behind the linen cart. I let my scent—wild roses and a violent storm—flare into the hallway, a cold reminder of my authority.
𝗝𝗼𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻
“What the hell was that, Grant?” I demanded, stepping into the doorway. “You cannot come into my territory and terrorize my staff p>
Grant slowly opened his eyes. The agonizing vulnerability was gone, instantly replaced by the calculating, ruthless mask of a Lycan politician. He stepped over the fallen candlesticks, closing the distance between us until he towered over me in the corridor.
“You have a Mating Contract with my brother,” Grant stated flatly, his voice devoid of any warmth.
My blood ran cold. The air in my lungs vanished.
“A political arrangement,” he continued, his storm-gray eyes piercing straight through my fragile defenses. “But I know what a true Mate-bond looks like, Adelina. And I know exactly what happens when it is threatened p>
He stopped inches from me, the biting winter frost of his aura suffocating my wild rose scent.
“We are on the same team regarding Carmella’s safety,” Grant murmured, his tone shifting into a dark, unspoken alliance. “But do not mistake my cooperation for weakness p>
Adelina POV
The biting winter frost of Grant’s aura suffocated my wild rose scent, pinning me against the corridor wall. The heavy smell of rosemary and rain was no longer just a manifestation of his grief; it was a weapon.
Message from Noa: Have a great Tuesday dear readers. God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. /