ALPHA'S HOSTAGE HEART

 Elena Volkov was certain she would die tonight as her motorcycle raced through the forest at 90 mph.

‎

Despite pressing her arm against the knife wound in her side, the bleeding persisted. The headlights behind her rose. Three cars. Maybe four. The cars were packed with her father's men.

‎

‎

She made a mistake by rejecting Dmitri Volkov. Only once could you say no in the Russian mafia. He gave her to Viktor Kozlov like a medieval bride with a wedding date and bloody contract. After she declined, her dad smiled coldly and told her to think about it.

‎

‎

His men broke into her bedroom with knives after two hours.

After killing one with a knife, Elena jumped out of her window and stole the first motorcycle she saw.

‎

She ran towards the border of a rumored place, hoping the one in charge harbored hatred for her father and would protect her. At least Viktor died quickly instead of as planned.

‎

‎

She pushed harder and leaned into a sharp turn, causing the engine to roar and her hurt side to scream in pain. Her leather jacket and seat were covered in blood.

‎

A fool could follow her path, but she had no choice. You can quit or keep going and die later.

Before Elena could consider the man in the road, her headlights detected movement ahead. She yanked the handlebars aside quickly.

‎

After a violent fall, the bike rolled with her across the gravel. She hit something warm and powerfully, causing pain, metal screeching, and a burning rubber smell.

‎

Elena found herself in a wreckage with an angry man when the world stopped spinning. He should have died or been seriously injured in the crash, but he was already up and brushing dirt off his torn shirt after running into each other at the store.

‎

‎

He had blood oozing from his head, but the wound appeared to be improving as she observed.

The wolves appeared.

Six shadows emerged from the darkness, prompting Elena's survival instincts.

‎

Despite her fear, she pulled the gun from her boot and pointed it at the nearest animal. The man's eyes lit up amber without reflection when they caught her broken-down motorcycle's light.

‎

‎

He authoritatively stated, "You're on Blackwood land," making even the most vulnerable and hurt feel uneasy. “Who sent you?”

"Nobody sent me," she replied, pointing her gun at the wolves. "Just wrong place and time," he said.

‎

As he approached, the wolves followed, but there was no clear order from him. Breathing in widens his nose, and a scary thought crosses his mind. You reek of Volkov, gunpowder, cigars, and old money. "I am repeating my request before I hand you over to my pack." "You came from where?"

‎

Elena felt nauseous. This man probably knew what her family could do because he knew them. I refused to marry Viktor Kozlov, so my dad tried to kill me. Is that your question?"

‎

The man's body stiffened dramatically as he froze. He tilted his head back and inhaled deeply. Confusion turned into pain on his face. "Who the hell?"

‎

One of the wolves charged Elena before she could respond. She shot carelessly and was shoulder-shot. Seeing the animal scream and fall back, the others tensed up to attack.

‎

When the man said "stop," the wolves stopped immediately. His gaze at Elena made her want to shoot him. "You shot at me."

‎

Ellena spoke up despite her vision becoming blurry. Your Beta tried to eat me." "That seems fair."

He was on her before she could blink, moving at an alarming speed.

‎

He held her wrist tightly, causing her to drop the gun. He remained still when she pressed a knife against his throat. She stood there, drawing blood with her sword as those inhuman eyes stared at her.

‎

He responded with a low voice, "Brave and stupid." "Dangerous mix."

She replied, "I've heard that before." Her leg collapsed where the motorcycle hit it. Without his catch, she would have fallen. Despite the situation, his arms were soft.

‎

‎

"Why is Viktor Kohl's future wife running through my land at midnight?" he asked, his voice softer than before.

‎

Elena was too exhausted and bloody to lie, so she told him the truth. "Because Viktor's been after your business for months, and my father thought I was worth more as a political sacrifice than a daughter," she said.

‎

"He needs Viktor's European contacts. I should not marry a psychopath. We disagreed on priorities.

The man's face lit up, and he adjusted his holding to support more of her weight.

‎

‎

"The men sent by your father will arrive in two minutes. My ears hear their engines."

As Elena spoke, she noticed her voice weakening. "Then kill me and finish," she said.

He grabbed her and said, "No," before she could respond. "Come with me."

‎

When Elena fought, she gave him a weak knee to the ribs that he barely noticed. Her last sight was his face above hers before she forgot everything. She thought her life would be harder if werewolves were real.

‎

The room smelled of old money and style when she woke up. Bed-chained, she was. A forester stood with arms crossed by the window. Someone wrapped her wounds and took her weapons.

‎

When he looked at her, his face was so cold it could freeze vodka.

"Welcome to Blackwood Est

ate," he said. "Speak up, or I'll throw you to the wolves." "Your pick."