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34. I Serve The Pack, Not You
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The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 35. Dress
AellaThe moment we step into the car, a silent void envelops us, a hallowed tension that swallows any words I might have considered saying. Roman sits beside me, his eyes forward, his posture rigid and his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He’s lost in thought. So am I.The engine hums a monotonous tune, blending with the distant chirping of evening crickets. My mind races, churning thoughts that won’t settle. Roman, my husband; the word still feels foreign on my tongue. “Husband.” The heaviness of the word settles on my chest, and I find it hard to breathe.The leather of the car seat sticks to the back of my gown, making me uncomfortably aware of the layers of fabric encasing me. I glance at Roman, wondering what he’s thinking. Does he sense my apprehension, my trepidation about the night that lies ahead? Tonight’s expectations wrap around me like invisible chains, chafing my very essence. The very word “duties” leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. And yet, duty is what b
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 36. A Glimpse Of What Might Have Been
RomanI wake up to a different reality than I expected—the subtle glow of morning light, the serenity of a quiet room, and, unexpectedly, the warmth of another body beside me. My mind is hazy with the last vestiges of sleep, and I’m in that brief, beautiful space where the weight of yesterday hasn’t quite settled back onto my shoulders.It’s only when I sense the arm slung over my chest and the legs entangled with mine that it hits me. Aella is holding me.My heart lurches in my chest, an adrenaline surge that jolts me fully awake. I lay frozen, scarcely daring to breathe, fearful of disturbing the fragile equilibrium we’ve found in the realm of sleep. She’s close, so close I can feel the rhythmic pattern of her breathing, and I’m reminded, with a sudden pang, of the first time we shared a bed.That night, duty ripped me away before dawn, leaving me with only the haunting image of Aella’s peaceful face and the memory of what could’ve been. I’d stepped out of that room as Alpha, should
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 37. I'm Not A Pretty Decoration
Aella As I walk down the corridor, each step feels like a battle against myself. What am I even doing? Questioning my Alpha, the very man who rules the entire pack, about my role? Still, something compels me to press on. It’s been two weeks and I’ve done nothing; just hosting dinner parties while scowling at him.I’m done sidelining myself, done being the Luna who’s seen but not heard. My upbringing, my training; it all screams for me to be more involved, to understand the inner workings of the pack I’m now a part of.The door to Roman’s office is deceptively simple—a polished wooden barrier that stands as the last line of defense between his world of pack politics and high-stakes decisions, and the rest of the estate. Every time I’ve stood before it, hand poised to knock, my heart has drummed out a rhythm of uncertainty and anticipation.I’m about to give up again when I hear his voice and my heart leaps into my throat. “Come inside, Aella.”Of course, he knew I was here.Swallowing
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 38. The Western Border
AellaThe SUV’s engine hums beneath me, filling the space with a quiet but constant reminder that life, like the world outside the tinted windows, keeps moving. Roman sits beside me, his phone pressed to his ear. He’s speaking Russian, a language I can’t decipher, but the cadence of his voice is hypnotic. The man becomes something else when he’s focused—like a sleek blade drawn from a hidden sheath.He’s dressed today in a way that could almost be criminal: black jeans molded to his form, a white t-shirt that seems tailored to tease the imagination, and a black leather jacket that screams confidence. His blonde hair is doing that thing again—falling rebelliously over his forehead, refusing to be tamed. Just like the first day I laid eyes on him.I know I should be immune to his allure by now. But, God help me, the man looks gorgeous today; he looks sinfully, distractingly gorgeous. And I can’t afford to be distracted.Our driver informs us we’re nearing our destination. It’s then I
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 39. Snapped String
AellaInside the black SUV, the silence is almost eerie. I sit with my hands resting on my lap, staring out at the blurred pine trees whisking by through the tinted windows. It’s as if the world outside exists on a different plane, far removed from the storm of emotions surging within me. The SUV’s leather seats, the quiet hum of its engine, the soft breeze from the AC—all of it feels surreal in the aftermath of what I’ve just witnessed. What we’ve just done.Roman sits across from me, separated by the narrow aisle of the car, but it might as well be a mile for how distant he seems. He’s on his phone again, the deep baritone of his voice rhythmic and fluid as he speaks in Russian. He’s all focus, intensity, authority. I shouldn’t find it as attractive as I do, but there’s no denying the heat that rises within me at the sound. He looks gorgeous today, even more so without a shirt now. And I hate myself for noticing, for caring, for feeling anything other than the detached respect owe
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 40. Freefall
RomanShe looks different when she’s asleep—softer, more innocent. The room is dim, and the soft glow from the bedside lamp casts a halo around her, heightening the angelic illusion. In this slumbering state, she looks pure, untouched by the sins of the world or the darkness that festers within me. It’s easier to fool yourself into thinking that’s all there is to a person when you see them like this. But I know better now.She looks so damn innocent lying there, but I’ve seen the storm in her eyes, the same kind that’s in me. The realization is as exhilarating as it is terrifying. I’ve glimpsed something else—a darkness, a wildness that echoes my own.I lean against the doorway, arms folded across my chest, taking her in. There’s a dangerous pull there, an almost magnetic force drawing me to her, and I find it harder and harder to resist. It’s strange how a person can shift from someone you thought you knew to someone who challenges everything you thought you wanted. She’s become th
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 41. Straight Path To Ruin
RomanGrabbing my keys and my jacket, I take one last look at her. She stirs slightly, a small sigh escaping her lips, but doesn’t wake. I need to clear my head, put some miles and hours between the mess that’s unfolding and myself.My hand hovers over the doorknob for a moment, torn between the need to leave and the almost magnetic pull towards the woman sleeping behind me. Then, like ripping off a band-aid, I open the door and step out, pulling it softly shut behind me. The click of the latch feels like a gunshot, final and irrevocable.A lingering glance back at the closed door serves as a silent promise—or perhaps a warning. We’re not done, Aella and I. Far from it. But for now, distance is the only gift I can offer her, the only way to protect us both from a collision course we’re not ready to face.I make my way down the hall; I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, my steps heavy. Aella’s unearthed something in me, something I’m not ready to face. Not yet. So for now, I
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 42. A Better Partner
AellaThe hot water cascades over my skin, a vain attempt to wash away the conflicting emotions that have taken hold of me since yesterday. The water from the showerhead feels almost accusatory as it pelts against my skin. Each droplet a microscopic indictment, saying, “You knew better.” I can almost hear them hiss as they make contact, swirling down the drain with all the resolve I thought I had. I feel the warmth envelop me, but it does nothing to dispel the cold sensation gnawing at my insides. My thoughts drift back to the SUV, to Roman, to the magnetic force between us that had been too much to resist. My mind keeps replaying those moments, dissecting them, searching for a way to rationalize my actions. But I can’t.You see, there are two versions of me. There’s Aella, the strong, independent woman who took a stand against an arranged marriage. Who ran from her pack to escape the heavy mantle of obligation and expectation. Then there’s this Aella—this conflicted mess standing i
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