Alle Kapitel von Rejecting My Three Alpha Mates: Kapitel 91 – Kapitel 100

ALPHA HARLEY I feel the moment the bond changes. Not fades. Not weakens. Locks. Like a heart snapping back into rhythm after flatline. My breath stutters. My vision sharpens. Every nerve in my body lights up at once. “She’s back,” I say, not hoping, but knowing. The monitors haven’t caught up yet. The scientists are still arguing over numbers and waveforms and transfer ratios, but the bond doesn’t lie. Alessi is there. Fully there. And the other presence, the second current that had been braided with hers, drops away like a released hand. My chest tightens. “Arissa,” I whisper. The alarms distort. Their clean tone melts into something warped and drowning, like metal screaming underwater. Lights flicker out of sequence. The containment field hum goes uneven. Something big just tipped. “She triggered it,” I say. “She chose it.”

ALPHA LUCA The helicopter blades finally stop roaring overhead sometime after dawn. For the first time since the lab collapsed behind us, the world grows quiet. Too quiet. The ocean stretches out beyond the compound’s cliffs, endless and gray beneath a rising sun, but my attention isn’t on the horizon. It’s on the reinforced steel doors at the end of the hallway. Behind them sits the man who raised me. My father. Salvatore Moretti. Or at least the version of him that remains after everything we uncovered. The safehouse belongs to my uncle Lance. Officially it’s a private maritime research facility. Unofficially, it’s one of the most secure holding locations in Europe. The kind of place where powerful men disappear quietly when their empires collapse. It smells faintly of salt and antiseptic. Behind me, heavy boots echo through the corridor. Lance approaches, his br

ALPHA HARLEY The first thing I notice when I wake is that the silence here is different. Not empty. Not peaceful either. It’s controlled, like everything in this place has been designed to hold chaos just beneath the surface. Lance’s compound sits high above the ocean, carved into the cliffs like something meant to endure storms. I can hear the waves through the reinforced glass somewhere down the corridor, the low crash and pull grounding in a way nothing else has been since we got out of that lab. I sit up slowly, dragging a hand over my face, letting my senses settle. The sickness isn’t gone. It’s quieter, like something waiting instead of attacking, but I can still feel it under my skin. An uneven rhythm in my blood, a delay in my reflexes, a faint drag in my lungs when I breathe too deep. Not healed. Just… paused. My gaze shifts to the bed across the room. Ale

We called Lance in a panic and he reassured us that they’d get here as soon as they could. Thankfully, the boys managed to stop hurting and we just moved to where there was shade, desperately hoping for the best but somehow still expecting the worst. Harley’s hand was still wrapped around mine as we sat by the water, the tide rolling in and out in that steady, endless rhythm that had almost convinced me we were safe here. His warmth had been constant, grounding, something I didn’t question anymore because it had become part of me. So when it changes, even slightly, it’s enough. And then another shift. Subtle, but there. His grip tightens, not painfully, not urgently, just enough to pull my attention back to him. I turn toward him with a small frown already forming, expecting a comment, a look, something, anything. But he isn’t looking at me. His gaze is fixed somewhere past the horizon, unf

ALPHA LUCA I don’t realize I’ve left the others until the sound of the sea is louder than their breathing. At first, it feels like instinct. Like my body simply chose a direction and I followed without question, but the farther I get from the makeshift structure Lance’s team built along the shore, the more I understand that this isn’t escape. It’s pull. Not urgent. Not violent. But steady in a way that feels… inevitable. The kind of pull you don’t fight because somewhere deep down, you already know resisting it would cost more than following ever could. The sand shifts beneath my bare feet as I walk, still warm from the day’s heat but cooling now under the slow descent of evening. The sky stretches wide above the ocean, painted in muted gold and deepening amber, the sun hanging low enough that everything feels suspended between moments. Between before and after. Between what we were and what we’re about to become. I stop when the water finally reaches me, the tide b