Bride Of The Lycan King のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

Dale’s POV For the first time in what felt like eternity, I finally felt like I could breathe. The road was a stretch of endless darkness, broken only by the glow of headlights cutting through the night. Still, the fact that it was leading me to Amber was a sweet relief. My wolf was restless inside; something was off. I gripped my phone, thumb brushing over the screen. There was nothing from either Janine or Amber, and it worried me. Janine should have called me by now after seeing all the missed calls and messages I left her. I glanced at Trent in the driver's seat. “Have you heard from either of them?” I asked. “Nope. But we’ll be home in ten minutes. I’m sure we can check on them then. ”I nodded, exhaling slowly, trying to shake the bad feeling that was crawling up my spine. The witch had not said a word since we took her from her motel room, preferring to keep to herself, which was not a bother to me. I had too much to think of, even if we were a short distance from home.

Amber’s POV I woke with a pounding headache. A deep, grinding pain sat behind my eyes, pounding in rhythm with the beating of my heart. My throat was patched as if I’d been screaming for a long time, and my mouth was dry, with a sharp metallic taste. I swallowed, cringing when the motion sent a sharp stab of pain down my throat. I glanced around me, taking in the darkness, which my eyes were yet to adjust to. My body groaned with the pain of staying in one position for too long, but when I tried to move, I discovered I couldn’t. Something was keeping me from leaving the chair. I tried again, groaning loudly when the restraints pulled me back, biting into my flesh.“What the hell?” I glanced around the empty room, looking for any signs of life or anything that would give a clue to where I was and how I got here…The memory of Emily ramming something into the back of my head shot through my vision, causing my head to ache even more. My heart raced, kicking into a frantic rhyth

Dale’s POV Trent was convinced he had found something. My heart raced; my wolf was ridden with anxiety, and he did not hesitate to snap at anyone for any reason at all. It's been two whole days, and there was no sign of Amber or her captor and no clue as to where we could find her. Silas had his men comb the entire city, turning the place upside down, while the rest of us searched the place where the cameras caught her last. I left no stone unturned, but there was no evidence that she was ever here. No scent, no leftover fear or emotions to hold on to. Except for the camera recording, which pinpointed her location as this area, everything else showed nothing, and it was frustrating. So when Trent announced he found something, I ran. I met him crouching low on the ground, fingers grazing the earth. “Boot tracks,” he said simply. One of the trackers said they caught a faint scent around here. It might be nothing, but— ”I turned around, not waiting for him to take back the ho

Dale’s POV “It was Mallory.” What?! I could hardly react, hardly breathe as the words slammed into me. Unconsciously, I turned to my brother Eric, reading the horror and disbelief that appeared on his face as the words sank in. It couldn’t really be…“Are you sure about… Amber? You may have—” Amber shook her head. “I’m sure, Alpha Dale. It was her. She…” Her eyes darted to where Eric stood, and she hesitated. “She did what, Amber?” I prompted. “She planned this whole thing with Emily.” Her body trembled, probably as she relived the memories of that place. I clenched my fist—for a second, I felt everything at once. I wanted to scream and, at the same time, break something—preferably, Mallory’s nose. “Who the hell is Emily?” Trent asked, beating me to it. “The woman who lured me from here.” Amber answered, lowering her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone…” Janine shuffled closer to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to comfort her. I turned around to give orders to

Amber’s POV Ink smudged beneath my fingertips, bleeding into white paper. I inhaled sharply, dragging my sleeve over the mess, but it only made it worse. I thought I could practice my writing to get rid of the boredom I felt, but my crooked and jagged letters only mocked me. Sighing, I tore off the page, crumbling it into a ball, and tried to throw it into the wastebasket that sat way too far—not far enough—from my bed. But just like my fifty-something failed attempts, this one stopped short of the basket, rolling on the ground next to its friends. I sighed, shutting the book with a thud. Even from here, I could hear the commotion of activities going on outside. Everyone was busy doing something—except me, of course. If this was the Moonstone pack. I was sure no one would have cut me any slack, no matter how sick I was. I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as something stirred inside me. Hopefully, it wasn’t what I was thinking it was. The priestess had assured