Chapter 471
Chapter 471:
“You’re just a Lycan, Grant,” my own voice echoed back to me — cold, cruel, and meticulously calculated. “A phase. A college distraction. I need a real Alpha King in Europe. Someone with ancient power, not a politician playing house p>
Every word I spoke felt like swallowing broken glass. My soul was screaming, clawing at my ribs, begging me to stop. But a terrifying, overwhelming desperation drove me forward. I was doing this to save something. I had to destroy him to protect — what?
“Carmella, please,” Grant choked out, stepping toward me.
I didn’t let him touch me. I forced my spine straight and delivered the fatal blow.
“I, Carmella, reject you, Grant Blackwell, as my mate p>
The world shattered. The invisible, sacred Mate-bond connecting our souls snapped with the violent force of a physical amputation. I fell to my knees in the dream, gasping as the agony ripped me in half. Above me, Grant let out a deafening, inhuman roar — the sound of a Lycan’s soul being torn to shreds. I forced myself to stand, turned my back on his agony, and walked away into the rain.
I shot up in bed, a ragged gasp tearing from my throat.
My chest heaved as I clawed at the pristine white linens of the Georgetown master suite. The single sconce above the vanity cast long, haunting shadows across the bulletproof glass windows. I was drenched in cold sweat, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm.
Instantly, the mattress shifted. A massive, hot palm flattened against my bare back. The suffocating, commanding scent of rosemary and rain flooded my senses.
“Carmella,” Grant’s voice was a rough, sleep-heavy rumble. He pulled me flush against his hard chest, his arm wrapping like an iron band around my waist. “You’re shaking. It was just a nightmare p>
“No,” I choked out, pushing against his chest to look at him. “It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory p>
𝖠𝖼𝘁𝗶𝘷𝖾 𝗰𝘰𝗆𝘮𝘂𝗻і𝘁у 𝘰𝗇 𝗴𝖺𝗹ո𝘰𝗏е𝘭𝗌.co𝗆
Grant went completely rigid. The air in the room thickened, his Lycan Inner Wolf instantly on high alert.
“I remembered the campus. The rain,” I whispered, my voice trembling as the phantom pain of the severed bond still ached in my chest. “I rejected you, Grant. I said horrible things. I told you I wanted a European Alpha King p>
He stared at me, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked near his ear.
“But it didn’t make sense,” I pleaded, searching his face for answers. “I felt like I was dying when I said it. It felt like a lie — like I was tearing my own heart out to save something more important. Why did I do it, Grant? What was I trying to save p>
Grant’s large hands moved to cup my face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears I hadn’t realized were falling. His expression was a flawless mask of sorrow and comfort.
“You were confused, Carmella,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “The pressure of our worlds colliding — it was too much. I don’t know why you said those things. You just disappeared after that p>
I froze.