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50. First Morning With You
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The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 51. First Mission
RomanThe weight of pack leadership has always been a double-edged sword—necessary but heavy. Sitting at my large oak desk, I sift through a pile of reports, budgets, and minor grievances when my eyes stray over to Aella. Leaning back in my leather chair, I watch Aella’s eyes scan the pages of ancient texts. She’s engrossed, and I can almost see the gears turning in her mind. I’m caught between the temptation to just admire her from across the room and the desire to engage her, to be a part of whatever is captivating her so much.“Back to work,” she says softly to herself, refocusing on the next grimoire in her stack, but what she doesn’t know is that she’s become an essential part of my ‘work,’ an aspect of my life that I didn’t even realize was missing until she filled it.Fuck it, I can’t sit quietly when she’s right here.“You know, you could just ask me if you want to know about my deep, dark pack secrets,” I tease, setting aside the papers.She looks up with a playful grin, her
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 52. Northern Cold I
AellaI can still feel the pulsing vibration of the jet’s engines as Roman and I disembark, the plane’s hushed whir still lodged in my ears. The Northern Territory is brutal, with winds that slice through your clothes, rattling your very bones. Tall pines and firs stretch skywards like an army of ancient warriors standing sentinel. Despite the frigid beauty, a sense of foreboding tightens the air—something is terribly wrong here.Roman looks tense. Even from my peripheral vision, I can see the cords of his neck straining, and his jaw clenched in an almost animalistic way. He’s been on the phone the entire flight—speaking in Russian and what sounded like Romanian, conversations laced with urgency and dark premonitions.The playful, flirty Alpha from hours ago has morphed into someone more somber, more distant.We take a black SUV from the airstrip, driving through a web of unmarked roads until we reach the first crime scene. As Roman steps out, I follow suit, bracing myself against th
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 53. The Northern Cold II
AellaAs I enter our room, the emptiness hits me. I take in the luxurious bed, the gleaming marble bathroom, and the city view framed by floor-to-ceiling windows. But it all feels hollow, like a glamorous shell without a soul. Roman's urgency is all-consuming and it pains me to think of him shutting me out while he dives deeper into the abyss he's staring into.I change into pajamas and crawl into bed. The sheets are soft and inviting, but they offer no comfort. As I lie there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts keep drifting back to Roman. I know he’s not intentionally being rude or dismissive; he’s stressed and burdened by the weight of the case. But understanding the reasons doesn’t lessen the hurt. It doesn’t fill the growing space between us, a void filled with unsaid words and missed opportunities for connection.After about 20 minutes of tossing and turning, I return to the hotel room, still wrestling with my own thoughts. When I open the door, I see that Roman h
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 54. Make Up Breakfast
AellaThe first thing I sense as I awaken is not the soft morning light filtering through the curtains or the luxurious comfort of the hotel bed. It’s Roman—his energy and scent fills the space around me, enveloping me like a protective shroud. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body as he lies curled around me from behind. Before I can even open my eyes, I feel his lips brush softly against my shoulder, a tender kiss that instantly dispels the lingering tension from last night. A second kiss follows, landing gently on the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. It’s a simple yet intimate gesture, filling the space between us with unspoken emotion.Each kiss sends a little jolt through me, but it’s tinged with confusion.“Good morning, little bird,” Roman whispers in a husky tone, sending a shiver through me.“Morning,” I reply softly, covering his hand with mine.We stay like this for a moment, basking in the comforting silence until the weight of unresolved matters fo
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 55. A Chilling Promise
RomanThe car ride to the private jet feels eerily calm—no fucking constant calls, no wild juggling of tasks. Just Aella and me, lost in a bubble of rare normality, talking about whatever bullshit crosses our minds. It almost distracts me from the shitstorm that I know is forming all around us.Almost.The purr of the car engine fills the cabin, and for a moment I let it wash over me, as if it could somehow drown out the cacophony of thoughts jostling inside my head. Aella sits beside me, her presence an echo of peace that feels almost alien against the backdrop of the turmoil we’re facing.“So, any more thoughts on Vasily?” Aella breaks the silence. I can tell she’s concerned, even though she’s given me space to stew in my own theories.Her question jars me. My fingers curl tighter around the leather-wrapped steering wheel, knuckles turning white. How the hell did I not see this coming?“The timing is too fucking perfect,” I mutter, half to myself. “Vasily shows up now, right when Ka
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 56. I'm Keeping My Promise
Aella I wake up to a bone-chilling cold, groggy and disoriented. For a moment, my eyes refuse to focus, the surroundings blurry and unfamiliar. My mind is swimming, trying to grasp onto the last threads of memory. I lift my head, instantly regretting it as dizziness washes over me, but I grit my teeth and push through. As my vision clears, reality begins to set in, sinking its teeth into my already shattered composure. I’m in a room, the walls stained with age and disrepair, a single flickering lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The air is damp, thick with the scent of mold and something far worse—malevolence. But what tightens the knot of dread in my stomach isn’t the room or the silver shackles around my wrists, burning into my skin like live coals. It’s him, leering at me from the corner of the room like I’m his last meal. Green eyes, the rebellious way his blonde hair falls over his forehead and that smirk. He’s sitting in a corner of the room, one leg casually crossed over
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 57. A Week Of Hell
RomanI’ve stared at these damned walls for seven days, every second ticking away like a hammer against my skull. Seven days since she was taken, and the room still smells like her—like wildflowers and morning dew. It’s a scent that once gave me peace, but now it’s a cruel mockery, a bitter reminder of what I’ve lost, what I’ve failed to protect.My hands clench into fists, and I hear the crackling of paper under my grip. I’ve lost count of how many reports I’ve crumpled or shredded in my frustration.I can’t escape the tormenting thoughts that coil inside my head like venomous snakes, hissing accusations, and insidious doubts. What if she’s being tortured right now? What if she’s screaming for me and I’m not there to save her? How can I call myself an Alpha, a protector, when I can’t even keep her safe?I’m drowning in an ocean of self-loathing. I’m supposed to be the Alpha, the protector, the stronghold. But now? Every ticking second on the clock is a sharp blade of guilt, slicing a
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 58. Helpless To Do Anything
RomanThe room is tense with unspoken emotions, so thick you could cut it with a knife. Silvia, our pack healer, moves around Aella with clinical precision, collecting whatever evidence she can. While Aella sits on the edge of the bed with a hollow look in her eyes; a shell of the woman I know and love. She’s physically here, but mentally? Emotionally? I have no idea where she is.[“I’m right here, Aella,”] I try to communicate through the mind link, that intimate pathway that has always been open between us. But it’s as if she’s locked all the doors and windows to her soul, and I’m standing outside in the cold, helplessly knocking.She’s quiet, unsettlingly so. Her eyes are vacant, like she’s mentally far away from this room, far away from me. I reach out through our mind link constantly, trying to make a connection, but there’s nothing—no response, no echo of my thoughts in her mind. It’s as if a thick wall has been erected between us, and I’m helpless to tear it down.I can’t sit
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