Chapter 351
Chapter 351:
His jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked beneath his skin. A harsh, guttural curse slipped from his lips. Through our fragile bond, I felt the faint, urgent echo of his Beta, Fletcher, reaching him through the Mind-Link.
Kain leaned forward and tapped the intercom button. “Henri,” he growled, his voice dripping with suppressed violence. “Change of plans. The Four Seasons. Underground VIP entrance p>
The Maybach immediately swerved, the tires gripping the wet asphalt as Henri expertly altered course.
Kain pulled back, his chest heaving as he fought a brutal battle against his Lycan instincts. He rested his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. “Fletcher just secured the perimeter at Blackstone Tower. The Howl paparazzi and several unmarked Rogue scouts are swarming the block. Someone tipped them off about my early return p>
𝘞𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘰𝘯
He reached up, his thumb gently tracing my swollen lower lip. “I will not let them turn our reunion into a public spectacle, Adelina. Not tonight p>
Twenty minutes later, the Maybach descended into the dim, concrete cavern of the Four Seasons VIP parking garage. The car slid to a halt near a private, mirrored elevator.
Kain shrugged off his massive, rain-dampened suit jacket and, before the car door even opened, draped the heavy fabric over my head and shoulders. It completely engulfed my wolfless frame, plunging me into darkness and masking my scent entirely beneath his overwhelming ancient cedar.
“Keep your head down, my love,” he murmured.
He scooped me effortlessly into his arms. Hidden within his coat, I clung to his neck as he carried me out of the garage. We stepped into the private VIP elevator, and I felt the smooth acceleration as he pressed the button for the Presidential Suite—entirely unaware of the desperate, broken Alpha watching from the lobby shadows.
Jase POV
The marble pillars of the Four Seasons lobby felt like the bars of a cage, but from the shadows, I finally saw my way out.
Ten minutes ago, I had watched Kain Blackwell stride into the private VIP elevator. He was carrying a woman. She was completely swallowed by his massive suit jacket, her face hidden, her scent entirely suffocated by his overwhelming ancient cedar aura.
My paranoid, alcohol-soaked brain instantly connected the dots. The Lycan King wasn’t devoted. He was a fraud. He had sneaked a cheap Omega or a human woman into the hotel. If I could catch him—record it—I could destroy his pristine empire. Adelina would see the truth. She would realize she was being manipulated by a monster, and she would come back to me.
I didn’t bother with the front desk; the human staff were too terrified of Blackwell’s wealth. Instead, I dialed a private investigator on my payroll who had dirt on a hotel IT tech drowning in gambling debts. Three minutes and a vicious threat later, I had the target: the Presidential Suite.
I stepped into the elevator, smoothing down my rumpled, alcohol-stained suit, and hit the record button on my phone’s camera. My Inner Wolf, starved and humiliated for days, let out a low, vibrating growl of anticipation. We were going to win.