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53. The Northern Cold II
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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
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 59. Guess I'm Not As Strong As I Thought
AellaLying in Roman’s arms, I should feel safe, cherished—wrapped in the kind of love that chases away the monsters of the night. But all I feel is trapped. His arms around me are like steel bands, and though I know they’re meant to be comforting, they feel suffocating. I want to tell him, I need to tell him—about Vasily, about what happened, about the dread pooling like lead in the pit of my stomach. But my voice has abandoned me, leaving me mute in the face of his questioning eyes.And then there’s Roman—his eyes filled with questions I can’t answer, etched with a pain I can’t soothe. How can I tell him that his touch, once my sanctuary, now feels like a cage? That his love, which should make me feel treasured, now lays bare my utter vulnerability?He watches me with concern, the sharp intensity of his gaze softened by the love he clearly still holds for me. But what will happen when he finds out? What will he think when he learns what Vasily did to me, what he made me do? I wan
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 60. Nightmare
RomanThe night air is filled with an almost tangible sense of tension and regret, making it almost suffocating to breathe. I am lying down next to Aella, her body seems to be barely there, a mere wisp, and her breathing is shallow and uneven. Days have passed in agonizing silence, days during which she’s hardly uttered a word, days where her eyes speak volumes of her inner torment. I can do nothing but hold her, whisper sweet nothings of assurance that I am here.The disconnect between us is driving me fucking crazy, that space widening with each passing second. I want to scream, kill something, throttle the life out of Vasily for what he’s done to her.But what good will that do? Vasily will be dead, but Aella’s memories won’t be.I’m awake, hyper-aware of every twitch, every small movement that Aella makes beside me. It’s as if my senses are dialed to eleven, each one screaming at me to be prepared, to be ready for anything. I hold her as she fights her demons in her sleep, all w
The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna 61. Taking Back My Voice
AellaIt’s strange how you can share your life with someone and still feel as though there’s an abyss separating you—a chasm widened by fear, doubt, and unspeakable trauma. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I actually study my husband.Roman looks so at ease in sleep, his features relaxed, a far cry from the strained mask he wears when awake. Being Alpha, a leader to our pack, carries a weight, a gravity that he rarely shows but is there, lurking in the background. His responsibility doesn’t end there. He’s been the linchpin holding me together since my return—gently caring for me, never pushing, always there.Yet as I observe him, I notice things I never did before: the dark circles under his eyes, growing more pronounced, the beginnings of worry lines creasing his forehead. Time has been unkind to us both in different ways. I’ve been the ghost haunting our lives, a wraith in our own home. And here he is, still steadfast, still waiting.My fingers itch to touch him, t
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