Semua Bab The Alpha's Bounty: His Runaway Luna: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Aella21 Years Old / Alpha Heir(Pronunciation: Ay-lah)The door to my father’s office creaks open, the sound warning me that my life is about to change. The study is a warm space filled with dark wooden bookshelves that reach towards the ceiling like ancient trees. The room smells of aged leather and paper; a scent I’ve always associated with wisdom and guidance.Usually, being summoned here means I’m in for a new learning experience with my father since I am his only Alpha heir. Maybe a discussion about pack politics or perhaps a lesson on the importance of our history. Today though, the air feels different—dense.My eyes catch sight of a stack of formal papers neatly arranged on my father’s mahogany desk. Official pack seal… That can’t be good.“Aella, come in,” Father’s voice reverberates from behind the desk, where he sits with his usual composed demeanor. He’s Alpha and Capo of Chicago; an Italian mafia sect that controls the city.“You wanted to see me, Father?” I say, moving c

AellaMy father’s limousine pulls up, sleek and black, designed to impress. He glances at me, an unspoken order in his eyes: Smile. I don’t need to be told; I’ve played this game many times before. There’s a time to charm, a time to foster good relations and a time to throw it all to the wayside. Alphas don’t show their weakness; they can’t.So, putting on a smile for show, I get out with my father at my side and walk inside to meet the vultures. Marcus, Lily’s eldest brother and my guard, walks next to me as a silent watchman.This is supposed to be one of the most important moments of my life. The grand hall of our pack mansion is so elaborately decorated, it could rival a royal wedding. Crystal chandeliers glisten above, casting warm light on fresh flowers and flowing drapes. I should be lost in the splendor of it all, but instead, my senses are dulled. My heart feels heavy in my chest.I’m not here because I want to be, but because I have to be. The man I am to marry will not be

AellaMy escape from the pack feels like a dream, a vivid haze of adrenaline and fear. After three days on a bus with strangers, none the wiser about my origins or my destination, I find myself in Seattle. The city greets me with its iconic skyline, each building a monument to human ingenuity and defiance. For a moment, as the bus nears its final stop, I marvel at how different this concrete jungle is from the natural terrains of my previous life.As I disembark, I pull my hood over my face to ensure that I remain anonymous. The sheer amount of smells in the atmosphere is causing my wolf senses to be overwhelmed, with a blend of gasoline and grease, as well as the sea-salted air. My eyes catch on a grunge band poster, its vibrant colors a contrast to the dull grays and browns of my old world. This is not just another chapter in my life; it’s an entirely different book.I head straight to the hotel I had booked two days prior. The lobby is nondescript, a mix of burnt amber and creams

AellaHe’s here. The guy from the café, standing in front of a dryer and pulling out a T-shirt. Our eyes meet, and the world seems to halt, all sounds muffled, all thoughts obliterated by the shock of the moment.“Evening, beautiful,” he says in that rough drawl, shooting me a wink. “Fancy meeting you here.”“What are you doing here?” The words spill out before I can stop them and immediately regret the words as they come out. Great going, Aella!He grins, that same earth-shattering smile from earlier. “Doing my laundry. What about you?”I shake my head, disoriented. Of all the laundromats in all the towns, of all the apartment buildings, what are the chances? “I can see that, but what…” I trail off, scoffing and feeling a blush rising into my cheeks. This man does not owe me any explanation, but I immediately slam those walls back up. This can’t be a coincidence. I refuse to believe that.“Same,” I manage to say, my voice sounding far away, as though coming from someone else. I wal

AellaFive days. It’s been five long days since I last saw him. I’ve been counting—counting the days, the hours, even the minutes since he last walked through the café door. Five days. How did five days without seeing him turn me into this... this ball of confusion? One minute he’s all flirt and grin, making my insides do weird somersaults. The next, he’s cold and distant, as if he’s a different guy. What’s his deal?I have to admit that it terrifies me how much I look forward to seeing him. I know I shouldn’t, right? The only thing I know about him is his name and how he likes his latte.Now I’m at the laundromat again, daydreaming about God knows what, when the door creaks open. I don’t need to look up to know it’s him; I can sense him and that rugged scent always clinging to him. But when I do look up, my face flushes. God, he looks divine. His shirt is unbuttoned, carelessly open, revealing an impeccably chiseled chest. It’s not just a chest; it’s a masterpiece, an altar of lean