Semua Bab Bonded to the Bastard: My Rejection, His Obsession: Bab 161 - Bab 170

Alanza’s POV"The smell of wet dog and old blood is finally gone," I said, trailing my hand along the polished wood of the banister.The Alpha lodge didn't feel like a tomb anymore. Someone had scrubbed the history out of the floorboards and replaced the heavy, suffocating drapes with something that actually let the sunlight in. Even the air felt lighter, though it still carried that sharp, biting scent of fresh sawdust and white paint. It was a massive improvement over the dark museum of misery I remembered.Lindsie stood near the heavy oak front doors, looking remarkably pleased with himself. "We figured a total gut job was the only way to make it livable again," he said. He caught my eye and offered a small, knowing smirk.Libbie was hovering near the back of the group, keeping a strange amount of distance between herself and Lindsie. It was a weird vibe, but I didn't have the mental energy to untangle pack politics right now."You did a g

Lucia’s POV“You shouldn't let the soup get cold,” the girl whispered, her voice like wind through dry leaves.I didn't look at the tray. My focus stayed on the two circular scabs on my thigh. They didn't bleed anymore, but they pulsed with a dull, rhythmic heat that made my skin crawl. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt that phantom pressure again, the weight of him pinning me down and the terrifying way my own body had betrayed me by leaning into his touch. It was a sick kind of magic. He had reached inside my head and turned my own biology against me, replacing my fear with a heavy, honey-thick heat that I still couldn't scrub away.I hated him for it. I hated the way I’d felt under him, and I hated the way my pulse spiked now just thinking about it. To him, I wasn't a person. I was a vintage, a specific snack he had picked off a shelf. He’d even used the word flavoring to describe the way he played with my emotions before he bit. The memory made a gag rise in my throat. I was bein

Alanza’s POV"The guys are ready and waiting on the line," Libbie said, her voice cutting through the quiet of the room before she even fully stepped inside.I looked up from the edge of the bed, my heart doing a slow, heavy roll in my chest. Sombra was already alert, her ears twitching toward the door. Libbie leaned against the frame, watching me with a look that was way too observant for my comfort."It is your call, Alanza," she continued. "We can drive over to the hospital right now, or you can take the night to settle in and we go first thing tomorrow."The mention of the hospital brought a sudden, sharp burn to the back of my throat. It felt like I’d swallowed a coal. For a few hours, I had managed to push the reality of this trip into a dark corner of my mind. Now, it was front and center again."Tomorrow is probably smarter," I started to say, the coward in my brain reaching for an exit."No," I corrected myself, shaking my head hard. "I need to look her in the eye now. The fas

Alanza’s POV"You were always the one thing I couldn't fix," my mother rasps. Her voice sounds like dry leaves skittering across pavement.I stand at the foot of her hospital bed, watching the woman who brought me into the world. She looks fragile, buried under white sheets and tangled in plastic tubes, but her eyes are still sharp. They are full of a familiar, cold weight. Every word she speaks feels like a slow twist of a blade in my chest. I can feel my composure starting to crack, a hot tear tracing a path down my cheek. It carries the weight of years of silence and "what ifs."Then, Libbie’s voice echoes in the back of my mind. She told me that my mother has no more power over me. She said the only strength this woman still holds is trapped in the past, hidden in old memories.I latch onto that thought. It is a solid anchor in the middle of this emotional storm. I pull in a long, shaky breath and look my mother right in the eye. I don't look away this time."No, Mom," I say. My vo

Alanza’s POV"You aren't leaving yet, are you?"The voice comes through the wood of the door, accompanied by a soft, rhythmic tapping. I stop mid-motion, my fingers curled around the handle of my suitcase. It is early. Libbie was supposed to meet me for the airport run, but the sun hasn't even fully cleared the horizon.Beside my feet, Sombra bristles. Her ears press flat against her skull, and a vibration starts deep in her chest. It isn't a playful growl. It is a warning.Something is off, my wolf whispers, her internal voice sharp with agitation. The scent. It is wrong. It smells like rot and old copper.I let go of the suitcase. My heart begins to hammer against my ribs. I consider staying silent, hoping whoever is out there will assume I am already gone or still asleep. It is a pointless hope. Any shifter on this floor can track my heartbeat and my scent through the drywall.I walk to the door and crack it open just a few inches. Margot Mitchell stands in the hallway. Her skin loo