All Chapters of The lost packs: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

*Thorn* I find myself still reeling from the whirlwind of sensations that Teyla has ignited within me. Each memory of her sends ripples through my mind, reminding me of the raw electricity that has sparked between us. The room is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls, but the heat radiating from her body seems to illuminate everything around us, including the undeniable truth I’ve been too afraid to confront. She might actually be my mate. The very thought sends a rush of adrenaline through my veins, a potent mixture of terror and exhilaration that leaves me breathless. I can’t help but wonder if her willingness to take such insane risks to save me stems from a deeper connection… an instinctual bond that draws her to me as it does me to her. As she meticulously gathers her clothes, I can’t help but admire the way she moves, each motion laced with confidence and grace. Her stride is purposeful, each step a testament to the raw power and unwavering determination that lies beneath he

*Thorn* I hear the door creak open, the heavy footsteps echoing ominously through the dim room, making me realise that it must be a new day. My heart races, not from fear but from the thrill of defiance that courses through me. Christopher strides in, followed by one of his men, his presence like a dark cloud hanging over my spirit. The grin on my face must infuriate him, a stark contrast to the rage boiling beneath the surface. “Back for more, are we?” I taunt, my voice steady despite the bruises that ache across my body. I can feel the heat radiating off him, a palpable anger that makes the air thick with tension. He steps closer, the light catching the glint of his cruel smile. “Do you think this is a game, Thorn?” he hisses, leaning in so close I can smell the stale sweat that clings to him. “You’re in no position to toy with me.” “And yet here we are,” I reply, the grin widening. It’s the adrenaline, the rush of knowing that he can’t break me, even as he tries. “You can thr

*Thorn* The words hang in the air like a thunderclap, and I can feel Christopher’s gaze bore into me, sharp enough to cut. There’s a flicker of disbelief in his eyes, followed by a storm of rage. “Teyla is pregnant?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous, as if he’s trying to digest the information. “That is what Teyla says,” the mayor responds, his expression unwavering. “But how can he be the father?” Christopher’s voice rises, the frustration spilling over. The gears in his mind are clearly turning, and I can practically see the calculations as he tries to piece together the puzzle of my existence in Teyla’s world. The mayor’s gaze remains steady. “Teyla told me how she met Thorn about a week ago when she ventured into the underworld.” “Is this true?” Christopher asks as he whips around to glare at me, his expression is almost funny. I can’t help but grin, the thrill of defiance bubbling within me. “Yeah, I met Teyla in the underworld and took her for a ride,” I retort, my vo

*Thorn* I'm jolted awake by the sound of the door clicking open, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My instincts kick in, and I’m ready to spring into action, to fight if necessary. But as the figure steps into the dim light of the room, my tension dissolves into disbelief. It’s Teyla, her silhouette framed by the doorway, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “Shh,” she whispers, glancing behind her as if ensuring we’re alone. “You didn’t think I’d let you stew in here without a visit, did you?” My heart races, not just from the surprise of her presence, but from the way her eyes sparkle with a mix of excitement and mischief. “What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice still thick with sleep, though I can feel the heat pooling in my core at the sight of her. “I need to talk to you,” she says, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And I think you’ve probably guessed that I’ve already put the plan in motion.” I raise an eyebrow, intrigued and slig

*Thorn* Four days later, the door swings open with a soft creak, and I'm jolted from a restless sleep, awareness flooding back in an instant. A maid enters, her arms laden with neatly folded clothes that look far too luxurious for my current predicament. The fabric is fine, the colors rich and deep… clearly designed for the highest echelons of society. It’s the kind of clothing worn by the richest Alphas, a stark reminder of the world I’ve been thrust into. “Good morning, Alpha Thorn,” she says, her voice polite yet devoid of warmth. “Your new garments, as requested by the mayor.” I take a moment to absorb the situation, my stomach tightening with unease. The mayor, Teyla’s father, is not someone I want to cross, but the thought of wearing these clothes feels like donning a shroud… clothes of a man who is about to face judgment. “Thank you,” I reply, attempting to mask my apprehension. The maid nods and retreats, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the impending confrontation.