Chapter 360
Chapter 360:
He didn’t hesitate. He launched himself across the marble floor, crashing into my stomach and burying his face in my coat. A violent jolt of electricity shot straight through me. A fierce, inexplicable maternal instinct flooded my veins, filling a massive, agonizing void in my soul I hadn’t even known was there. I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms tightly around his small frame. It felt terrifyingly right.
Above me, Grant’s fists clenched. His scent of rosemary and rain spiked into a dark, suppressed storm of violent emotion.
An hour later, the tension in the formal dining room was thick enough to cut with a silver blade. I sat at the massive mahogany table, barely touching my food, my mind still reeling from Jaxon’s embrace.
Almon set his wine glass down and looked at me with the detached, clinical gaze of a breeder evaluating livestock.
“A Luna’s primary duty is to provide the Lycan King with strong pups,” he stated, his voice a lethal, freezing void. “A barren bloodline is a curse p>
The words struck me like a jagged silver dagger plunged directly into my chest.
𝖲а𝘃е 𝗒𝗼𝗎𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝗏𝘰𝘳𝗂𝘁е 𝗇о𝘃𝗲𝘭s 𝘰ո.с𝘰𝘮
A blinding, agonizing pain exploded behind my temples. The opulent dining room vanished. Flashes of harsh hospital lights hijacked my vision. The piercing, desperate screams of a newborn echoed through my skull. The air turned to ash, reeking of burnt rosemary and rain.
I couldn’t breathe. My trembling fingers lost their grip. The heavy steel fork clattered violently against the bone china plate.
The screech of Grant’s chair scraping across the marble floor snapped me back.
Grant towered over the table, his chest heaving, his golden eyes burning with pure, murderous intent as he glared at his father. The scent of rosemary and rain mutated into a suffocating wave of lethal Lycan fury.
“Dinner is over,” Grant snarled, his guttural command vibrating the crystal glasses on the table.
He didn’t wait for a response. He scooped me from my chair, carrying my trembling, gasping body out of the dining room and up the grand staircase to a massive guest suite.
He set me gently on the edge of the king-sized bed. I buried my face in my hands, weeping as the remnants of the panic attack slowly subsided.
“I have dissociative amnesia,” I choked out, feeling entirely broken and vulnerable beneath his intense gaze. “A car crash, seven years ago. My parents said the trauma was simply too much p>
Grant didn’t look surprised. He dropped to his knees in front of me, his large hands gently cupping my tear-stained face.
“I will hunt down every stolen memory, every shadow in your mind, and bring them back to you,” he murmured, his voice a dark, hypnotic rumble that sent a shiver straight through me. “You will be whole again, with me p>
I looked into his bottomless, midnight eyes. It wasn’t the look of a politician playing a fake boyfriend. It was the dark, obsessive, and entirely terrifying gaze of a predator who already owned my soul.