Todos los capítulos de Blind Alpha And His Unwanted Mate: Capítulo 531 - Capítulo 540

LucasThe pull reaches me before I consciously name it.It settles deep in my chest, quiet but unyielding, like a hand closing around my ribs and turning me in a specific direction. My wolf stirs at the sensation, not with strength, not with hunger, but with recognition. He is still weak, still recovering, and I do not lean on him. I do not ask him to lead. The bond does that on its own.Aurora.My body responds before my thoughts catch up. My feet shift. My shoulders angle away from the estate. The noise behind me fades into something distant and unimportant. I do not stop to explain. I do not stop to think about whether this makes sense. It does. That is enough.I start moving.Gravel crunches beneath my boots, the sound sharper than I like, but I keep going. My breathing stays controlled, not because I am calm, but because panic would slow me down. Every second matters now, even if I cannot fully explain what I am feeling, I have to trust my instincts.Footsteps fall in behind me,

AuroraI wake slowly, the way I do when my body feels heavier than usual because my body is still recovering from injuries, like sleep doesn’t want to let go yet. My eyes open to the familiar ceiling, the faint crack near the corner that I always count when I can’t rest. I never let anyone remove this crack, because it is the only imperfect thing in my perfect room...The thing which makes it look like part of my world.Morning light spills in through the window, soft enough that it doesn’t hurt.I stay still for a moment. Breathing. Listening.Then I turn my head.Lucas is on the floor beside the bed, stretched out on his side in his wolf form. His fur is dark against the wood, one ear tilted back like he fell asleep halfway through listening for danger. His chest rises and falls in an easy rhythm. One paw rests near the leg of the bed, close enough that it feels intentional, like even sleeping he needs to know where I am.A smile spreads across my face before I can stop it.Of course

AuroraThump. Thump. Thump.My heart keeps a rhythm like it is practicing for something important. It presses against my ribs, impatient, curious, refusing to calm down. I notice it the same way I notice everything lately, like my body is a room I am walking through, touching the walls just to make sure they are real.Sophia stands in front of me with safety pins held between her teeth, brows pulled together in focus. She adjusts the back of my dress with careful fingers, tugging once, then again, checking the fall of the fabric like she is solving a puzzle. Her hands pause. She tilts her head. One more pin. Then she steps back.There it is. Her smile. The satisfied kind. The one that means she approves.I look down at myself. The dress feels heavier than I expected, not in a bad way. More like it carries meaning stitched into it. I smooth my palms over the fabric without thinking. My fingers tremble a little. I pretend not to notice.The door opens without warning.Anastasia barg

CalebI walk up the gravel path toward the main facility, boots crunching underfoot, jacket unzipped because I ran here without meaning to. Old habit. The building sits wide and solid against the treeline, steel and stone mixed with old pack symbols carved above the doors. Jake’s idea. Honor the past while preparing for whatever hell is coming next.A couple of trainers are already outside, running warmups with a group of young wolves. Some of them notice me and straighten like they’ve just spotted trouble.“Morning, Caleb,” one of them calls.I lift a hand and nod. That’s all they get. I’m not here to chat. I’m not here to inspire. I head straight for the entrance like I always do.Inside, the sounds hit me at once. Feet pounding mats. Commands being barked. The crack of fists against pads. Jake’s office is at the far end of the hall. I don’t knock. Never have.Lucas is already inside, leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever. Jake stands by the window with a table

JuneThe apartment smells like old paint and dust when I close the door behind me. The lock sticks, like it always does, and I have to lean my shoulder into it until it clicks. One room. Cracked walls. A ceiling stain shaped like a cloud that never goes away no matter how many times the landlord promises to fix it. The heater rattles even when it is off. The window lets in more cold than light.It is home. Temporary. Mine.I drop my bag on the chair that has one leg shorter than the rest and kick my shoes off near the door. The floor is cold through my socks. The bulb above flickers when I turn it on, then settles into a dull yellow glow that makes everything look tired. That is fine. I am tired too.I move to the corner where my bed sits, pushed against the wall. The mattress sags in the middle, but it is clean. I sit on the edge and pull the small first aid box from under the bed. It rattles when I open it. Gauze. Thread. Alcohol wipes. A needle already threaded because I hate wasti