Chapter 398
Chapter 398:
“Kain and I are having our Marking ceremony next week,” she said softly, placing the heavy invitation on the glass table. “I want you standing beside me. I want you to be my Maid of Honor p>
I stared at the beautiful calligraphy, a fresh wave of self-loathing crushing my chest.
“I can’t,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m a broken, wolfless shell, Adelina. I hear a phantom baby crying in the walls of this apartment every time I close my eyes. I’m terrified I’ll lose my mind and ruin the most sacred day of your life. I don’t belong anywhere near a Luna’s ceremony p>
Adelina’s eyes filled with tears. She didn’t push me. She just squeezed my hand, accepting the devastating reality of my trauma.
о𝘳𝗀а𝗻i𝘇𝖾 𝘺о𝘶𝗿 𝗹і𝖻r𝘢𝗿𝘆 𝗈𝗇.с𝘰𝘮
Suddenly, the harsh buzzing of my cell phone shattered the heavy silence.
The screen lit up on the glass table. Ferris Hawthorne.
The suffocating grief in my veins instantly flash-froze into pure, blinding rage. My adoptive cousin. The coward who belonged to the family that had orchestrated the lie of my entire existence.
I slowly reached for the phone, my empty, hollowed-out gaze sharpening into something lethal.
“Ferris is the only one who might know what Charles and Eleanor did with the baby,” I said, my voice dropping to a cold, dead whisper. “I need to take this. I need to make him talk p>
Adelina understood the shift. The victim was gone; the hunter had taken her place. She stood up, giving my shoulder one last supportive squeeze before quietly letting herself out of the apartment.
I waited until the front door clicked shut. Then, I swiped the screen and brought the phone to my ear.
Kain POV
The heavy bass of the subterranean club vibrated through the floorboards, but it was nothing compared to the violent, agonizing pacing of my Lycan Inner Wolf.
I sat on a tufted leather sofa in the darkest corner of The Alpha’s Vault — a highly exclusive sanctuary hidden deep beneath Wall Street. The dim lighting barely cut through the thick haze of expensive cigar smoke. The air was choked with aged whiskey and the aggressive, clashing scents of hundreds of powerful Alphas who had gathered to honor me.
According to ancient Pack tradition, an Alpha had to spend the night before the Marking ceremony entirely separated from his Luna, as a show of respect to the Moon Goddess. To my Lycan, this tradition was absolute torture.
My Inner Wolf howled in pure agony, starved for the scent of wild roses and storm. Every second spent in this crowded, suffocating room felt like a physical tearing of flesh. I needed my den. I needed my Mate.
Beside me, Fletcher leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his crystal glass. My Beta’s Inner Wolf was visibly strained, struggling to manage the volatile, murderous aura leaking from me.
“Smile, Kain,” Fletcher said, attempting to cut the lethal tension. “It’s your last night of freedom before the grave of marriage. Enjoy the cigars p>