CHAPTER 121:The Price of Fire
ADAM
Something warm pressed against my chest. A hand. Gentle but firm. Then my name, muffled like a whisper traveling through water.
“Adam. Adam...”
Who was that?
My eyelids fought against the weight of sleep as I blinked into the haze. The world was a blur. Lights bled into shadows. A figure loomed above me soft around the edges, yet familiar. My lips parted, dry and cracked. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a groan.
“Stay still, my prince,” the voice murmured again. A woman’s voice. Calm. Steady. “Your wolf needs time to heal.”
The words anchored me. My muscles, tense with confusion, slowly eased. I wasn't in danger. I was safe.
I took a shaky breath and forced my eyes open again, this time longer. The fog lifted just enough for me to recognize the face beside me. Emmanuelle. Her curls framed her face like a halo, though her eyes carried the weight of sleepless nights. She wasn't alone.
James stood at her side, his arms crossed, lips curled into a quiet smile that barely reached his eyes.
I exhaled in relief.
Safe. Home. Not the palace but home, because they were here.
Then, without warning, Emmanuelle collapsed into me, wrapping her arms around my chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered against my neck, her voice trembling. “Thank you for coming back for me.”
Pain surged through my ribs from the pressure of her embrace, and I flinched but smiled through it.
“I’m the kind of man who keeps his word,” I said softly. “I don’t turn my back on it.”
But as her warmth sank into me, another name clawed its way to the front of my mind.
Someone was missing.
“Where’s Drake?” I rasped, turning my head toward James.
James's smile faltered. He took a step closer, his expression tightening.
“He’s recovering,” he said gently. “It’s been two weeks since the operation. His wolf... it’s taking longer than we expected to heal.”
I nodded, though my thoughts drifted.
Drake always calculated, always cautious. How did he end up captured? How did he of all people become an experiment?
The silence broke not with words, but with static.
A low hum filled the room as James turned the small television mounted in the corner. The screen flickered to life, casting pale light across the walls. A news anchor appeared, voice smooth, rehearsed.
“Vallaire & Co. is on the brink of bankruptcy following the mysterious destruction of one of its undisclosed laboratories. Sources say the damage is beyond recovery…”
Images flashed: flames licking the edge of a chain-linked fence, smoke curling into a dark sky, officials standing behind yellow tape. I knew that place. I knew the screams that never made it into the footage.
I didn’t flinch. Just stared.
The screen reflected in my eyes, but my focus had already shifted toward James.
He watched me from the armchair across the room, remote in hand. His face was unreadable, carved in stone. After a moment, he pressed the button. The screen went dark with a soft click.
No words. He didn’t need them. I felt his expectation. He thought this would bring me peace. That vengeance raw and absolute was what I’d wanted.
But the ashes of Vallaire tasted hollow in my mouth.
I pushed myself upright. Pain lanced through my ribs, but I ignored it.
“That wasn’t the plan,” I murmured.
James raised a brow. “I thought it was exactly the plan.”
“No.” My voice came out rough, but steady. “It’s not enough to destroy something. You have to rebuild it. Make it yours.”
His silence was cautious now. A pause meant to contain his disagreement.
“Buy forty percent of their shares,” I said.
James blinked. “You’re joking.”
I held his gaze. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
His lips parted. He stood slowly, remote now forgotten on the chair arm. “Adam, that company is dead. It’s finished. No one touches a burning corpse and comes away clean.”
“We’re not doing it for Marcus.” I leaned forward, letting every word cut clean. “We’re doing it for her.”
James didn’t move, but I saw the way his jaw flexed. His eyes narrowed, not in anger but in that quiet, worried way he got when he knew I’d already made up my mind.
“She’s human,” he muttered, as if reminding me. As if I’d forgotten.
I didn’t reply right away. My thoughts drifted not to her father, not to the lab but to her. To the way Emmanuelle’s voice shook when she talked about what Vallaire used to be, before the bloodshed. Before Marcus turned it into a factory for monsters.
“She’s the only one who never saw me as a thing to dissect.” My voice softened. “She wanted something better for her mother name. I promised her I’d give it back clean. Whole.”
James looked away, a muscle ticking in his cheek.
“Even if it means walking back into the fire?” he asked.
I nodded once. “For her? Yes.”
He paced to the window. Outside, dawn was beginning to stretch across the sky, painting the horizon in fractured gold. He exhaled heavily, then finally grudgingly spoke.
“I’ll contact the broker by noon.”
A pause. Then, quieter, “This is the last time, Adam. I hope she’s worth it.”
I looked down at my hands. Calloused. Healing.
“She is.”
Emmanuelle never came into my life quietly. She was a storm, always crashing into everything, tearing down my walls with her fire and grace.
But in every storm she brought, I found direction. I found reason.
And this time, I would face the wind again for her.
After that?
I’d go home.
Where I belonged.