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26. Running Away Again
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The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 27. Farewell
AellaToday is a weird day, an emotional shitshow really. I tug at the ends of my apron, feeling the soft, worn fabric, as I prepare for my last shift at the café. I’m not Ella anymore, just a ghost of her, lingering in a place that will soon no longer be mine. It’s been more than a place to clock in hours for a paycheck; it’s been my escape, a slice of ‘normal’ in a life that’s anything but.The moment I walk in, memories flood back—afternoon lulls, morning rushes, and whispered conversations with Jay. Oh God, Jay. Just the thought of him sends this aching pulse through my chest.I look around the café, taking in the faces of the people I didn’t even know would come to be my second family. Sam’s already setting up for the farewell party they’ve insisted on throwing for me, and my heart sinks a little at the thought of saying goodbye.The morning rushes by in a haze. I’m mechanically foaming milk, pulling shots of espresso, and scribbling names on cups. Each swipe of the cleaning clo
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 28. Bitter Truths, Lavish Lies
RomanI stand by the door, my eyes tracing the contours of her face as she lies there, enveloped by the sheets. She’s been out cold for two days, two agonizing days of wondering whether the wolfsbane would claim her. I never thought I’d find solace in the rhythmic sound of someone else’s breathing, but here I am, hanging on to each rise and fall of her chest like it’s a lifeline.I want her to wake up, and yet, I dread it.I was on my way to her workplace for the last time when I saw the attack. Sam, or Esteban, the rat, had her cornered. It took every ounce of restraint not to tear him limb from limb right then and there. Instead, he’s being held at my pack house, awaiting a fate I’m all too eager to hand-deliver.The male scent that had been on her was his, as if he marked her with his scent warning others to stay away. I also found the same scent in her apartment after searching it two nights ago. Seems like the fucker has been silently breaking into her safe space at night.The th
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 29. Willfully Blinded
AellaAs the door clicks shut behind him, the weight of Roman’s words still hangs in the air like a heavy fog. Lying on the bed, the cotton sheets suddenly feel like shards of ice against my skin. I can’t wrap my head around it. Roman. Jay. They’re the same person and I’m the idiot who never saw it coming.For the last three months, I thought I was falling for a guy who understood me, someone different from the macho Alphas I’d been running from. I let my guard down, allowed myself to believe in this lie because I so badly wanted it to be true. I was delusional to think someone like him could love someone like me.I feel nauseous, like I’ve been turned inside out. Was any of it real? Was any part of ‘Jay’—his smiles, his touch, the warmth in his eyes, was any of that him? Or was it all just another facet of his calculated betrayal?My mind races, retracing conversations, touches, promises—all the intimate moments we shared. They flicker through my mind like snippets of a film, each sc
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 30. A Pretty Little Prison
AellaThe jet is like a floating glass cage at 30,000 feet. We’re in the same space, but worlds apart. Roman is across from me, typing something into his laptop. He doesn’t even look up when the flight attendant serves us. His apathy is a stark contrast to the fire I feel inside, burning and consuming me. While he is physically here, it seems like he's in a different reality, one where emotions and accountability are not significant.The tension is palpable, but he seems determined to pretend everything is fine, like he didn’t drag me here under duress. The audacity he has to act as if he’s the one wronged here is infuriating.I keep my gaze fixed on the window, watching the clouds go by. They’re free, floating wherever the wind takes them. I’d kill to be that unanchored right now. To be anywhere but here, with the one man who has become the epitome of all the cautionary tales I’d ever been told.Thinking back on it now, I don’t know how I was so dumb. He has the tattoos of a Russian
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 31. Was I Just A Mission To You?
AellaI look at the man I thought I fell for, and all I see is the monster I tried to run away from.“You’re right, though,” I say, scoffing and struggling to maintain composure after those words. “I didn’t hate Jay, a figment of your twisted imagination. You, Roman, I loathe. I will never forgive you for what you did to me.”“I don’t need your forgiveness,” he says, his voice colder than I’ve ever heard it. “You can hate me all you want. Be my wife, bear my children, and open your legs when needed and satisfy me. That’s all I require.”His words feel like they physically assault me. Disbelief, rage, and humiliation are all vying for my attention and overwhelming me. He’s stripping away the romanticism from our relationship and turning it into a business transaction. “I will never be your Luna, or your wife,” I say, locking eyes with him. It’s a futile attempt to break through his icy exterior, but I can’t stop myself.He sighs and moves away from me. “I think you misunderstand the s
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 32. A Question Mark
RomanThe moment I stepped into my office, I could sense that my carefully constructed facade of control was beginning to crumble. Despite my best guards watching Aella, my insides were still filled with restless anger.I sit back in my leather chair, staring at the mahogany desk that’s seen better days. It’s cluttered with maps, reports, and my damn laptop, all screaming at me that I’ve done what I set out to do. I got Aella back; Esteban is locked up, waiting for his inevitable fate. The mission is complete, but sitting here, in this room, I’ve never felt more incomplete. And that realization is the most crippling of all.I grind my teeth, annoyed at myself. I’ve been leading this pack since I was barely out of my teens, made hard calls—calls that would make a lesser man crumble. But here I am, second-guessing every choice that led me to this moment. And it’s not the mission; it’s her. It’s always been HER.I drum my fingers on the table, each tap sending a jolt through me, like I
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 33. A Captivating Captive
AellaToday is supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, or so the seamstress tells me as she flits around me like a fairy godmother, making sure the wedding dress fits perfectly. I’m standing in front of the floor-length mirror, and for a second, I can appreciate the artistry of the gown—its intricate lace, the delicate beadwork, and the soft glow of the ivory fabric. “You look absolutely stunning, my Luna-to-be,” the seamstress gushes, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “I’ll give you a few moments to yourself.” With that, she sweeps out of the room, leaving me alone with my reflection.It’s a beautiful dress, a masterpiece really, but it’s for a life I never chose. The soft fabric clings to my body, adorned with intricate lace designs that seem almost too beautiful for this moment, too pure for what it’s about to signify.I stare at myself, noticing how much of a stranger I look like now. For two years I had my blonde dyed black. But that color has been stripped, so
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 34. I Serve The Pack, Not You
AellaI sit up in bed, taking in the morning light that filters through the curtains. It casts a golden glow over the room, softening the edges of furniture and painting a deceptive picture of serenity. I know it’s a lie. It’s as if even the light knows it doesn’t belong here. Just like me.This is my last morning in this room, my final moments as the Aella who had dreams beyond the boundaries of a cold, empty marriage. The guest room has been comfortable but temporary—a perfect analogy for my life up to this point. It’s all changing today, whether I like it or not.I stand up, my bare feet touching the cold floor. Everything feels colder today, even the air that I breathe. I head to the bathroom, turning on the shower. I don’t even wince as the water turns hot against my skin; I welcome the burn. Physical sensations are a distraction, a momentary respite from the thoughts that have been gnawing at me.As I look at myself in the mirror, I see my reflection almost as if for the first
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