That was the final straw. My patience snapped like a brittle thread. “Shut up! You have no right to say his name!”
Adeline’s expression wavered into one of feigned hurt, but the glint of satisfaction in her eyes remained. “Okay, I won’t bring him up anymore,” she murmured, her tone laced with false innocence. “Please, don’t be mad at me, Anastasia.”
Her crocodile tears didn’t fool me. But Ronan, clearly provoked by my reaction, let out a cold, humorless chuckle. He moved with deliberate slowness, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his phone as if savoring the moment, as if preparing to strike a fatal blow.
With a smirk, he dialed a number and placed the call on speaker. His voice carried a chilling command. “Beta Magnus, find out everything about Anastasia’s son, especially his exact location. If he’s receiving treatment in the pack’s infirmary, cease it immediately.”
The air thickened with tension, heavy with the weight of his threat. His gaze never wavered from mine, watching me like a predator savoring the torment of its prey. He expected me to break. To crumble.
Instead, I held his gaze, my lips curving into a grim, defiant smile.