Chapter 223
Chapter 223:
Kain’s relaxed posture vanished instantly. The warm, intoxicating scent of ancient cedar plummeted into a freezing, offended chill. The soft affection in his storm-gray eyes hardened into absolute disbelief.
“The mark is for a ‘she’, Adelina,” Kain stated, his voice a low, gravelly rumble laced with profound frustration. “The only one who has ever mattered p>
I nodded slowly, but my mind automatically translated his she to he. Of course he would deny it. He was the Alpha King; he had to maintain the illusion of a traditional, heterosexual mating to protect his crown and produce an heir.
My stubborn, unwavering disbelief hung heavily in the air. Kain stared at me, his jaw clenching so tight a muscle ticked near his ear. Realizing that no truth could penetrate the fortress of my insecurities, he let out a harsh breath, stood up, and walked out of the dining room in absolute, deafening silence.
Almon POV
𝖶𝖾𝘦𝘬𝘭𝘆 𝗋𝖾l𝘦a𝗌еѕ о𝗇
The dim light of my private study at Blackstone Tower offered a quiet sanctuary. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment, expensive whiskey, and my own absolute authority.
I reviewed the latest Pack intelligence reports. Kain’s ruthless, public defense of his wolfless Mate had surprisingly skyrocketed his approval ratings among the younger Alphas. The bloodline was securing its power. But my other son was a political liability.
I closed my eyes and opened a heavily encrypted mind-link to Boston. Grant.
I didn’t wait for a greeting. I laced my mental voice with the crushing weight of an Alpha’s Command. Your brother is securing his legacy with a broken Omega, while you let the memory of a ghost tarnish the Blackstone name in the Senate. The council is whispering. Find a new Mate. Produce an heir. End this foolish mourning.
Go to hell, Almon, Grant’s icy voice echoed back before he violently severed the link.
I opened my eyes, a cold smirk touching my scarred lips. Let him be angry. I knew that in his Boston office, Grant was already moving. He had just opened a deeply encrypted folder on his computer—seven years of surveillance photos of Carmella Golden. He wasn’t flying to New York to appease me; he was hunting his ghost.
Adelina POV
The sharp scent of wild roses and an impending storm filled my Alpha office at The Wolfe Hotel. I sat behind my mahogany desk, my heart still aching from the disastrous breakfast with Kain.
Carmella Golden stood before me, holding a sleek tablet.
“Senator Grant Blackwell just called an emergency board meeting for this afternoon,” Carmella reported, her tone perfectly professional. “He insists on inspecting the assets personally p>
My stomach dropped. I remembered the agonizing, haunted look in Grant’s eyes at the Columbus Circle mall. He wasn’t coming for the hotel’s financials.
“Be careful, Carmella,” I warned, leaning forward and lowering my voice. “The Blackwells are complicated. Grant’s interest in this hotel feels personal. He looked at you at the mall as if he’d seen a ghost p>
Carmella offered a polite, dismissive smile. “I can handle a Lycan politician, Adelina. Besides, Quentin and I are finalizing our wedding venues this week. I’m perfectly safe p>