Todos los capítulos de Mated To My Captor: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

 The wind whipped through the chain-link fence behind her, rattling it like loose change in a pocket. I stood a step back from Dante and Kira, clutching my duffel bag tighter, the nylon strap digging into my palm. The sun beat down on the cracked asphalt, making the air shimmer with heat waves rising from the parked trucks and bikes scattered around the lot. Ironclaw wolves lounged against rusted shipping containers, their tattoos peeking from under tank tops, eyes narrowed under baseball caps and bandanas. One cracked his knuckles audibly, the pop echoing like a warning shot.Dante squared his shoulders, his black jacket absorbing the sunlight without a hint of sweat on his brow. "We're here under truce flag. Alpha Dominic's direct orders. Kira is part of the investigative delegation. She's necessary."Juniper descended the loading dock stairs one deliberate step at a time, her combat boots thudding against the metal grating. She stopped inches from Dante

 The chains clinked one final time as Kastor unhooked them from the ceiling ring. My arms fell like lead weights. Shoulders screamed in protest. Wrists throbbed where the steel cuffs had dug deep grooves into the skin. Red welts bloomed across the bone. I flexed my fingers once, twice. Pins and needles raced up my forearms.Kastor stepped back. Looked me over with the same dispassionate gaze he might give a broken tool. “Get up.”I pushed off the chair. Legs shook. The concrete floor felt unsteady under my sneakers. The room still smelled of rust and old blood. The single bulb overhead buzzed like a trapped insect.One enforcer grabbed my left elbow. The other took my right. Not rough. Not gentle. Just mechanical. They steered me toward the door.Kastor walked ahead. His boots echoed down the corridor like hammer strikes. We passed the open bays again. Wolves paused mid-spar to watch. One wiped sweat from his brow with the back of

 I yanked the door handle. The SUV door popped open with a metallic click. Cool evening air rushed in, smelling of gasoline and exhaust.Sage’s head snapped up from her phone. “Kira? What are you...”I didn’t wait. I launched myself out of the car, sneakers slapping pavement. The gas station canopy lights buzzed overhead. A yellow cab idled at the far pump, driver leaning against the hood scrolling on his phone.I sprinted straight for it.Behind me, the back door banged open. Sage shouted, “Kira! Wait!”I didn’t look back.The cab driver looked up as I skidded to a stop beside him. Mid-thirties. Faded red polo shirt. Name tag said “Rico.”“Drive,” I gasped. “Now. Lose the girl chasing me.”Rico’s eyes flicked past me. Sage was already halfway across the lot, hoodie flapping, notebook still clutched in one hand.He didn&rsquo

 The road kept unfolding beneath us like black ribbon, endless and indifferent, headlights slicing through the dark while my mind stayed trapped back at that park. I could still see her face buried in Leo’s hoodie, shoulders finally dropping the way they never did around me, around any of us. The way her fingers curled into the fabric like she was afraid he’d vanish if she let go. The way he held her like she was something precious, something worth protecting, not a liability or a weapon or a problem to be solved.Guilt sat in my chest like wet concrete. Heavy. Cold. Every time I’d called her rogue, every time I’d stood silent while Juniper’s hand tightened around her throat, every time I’d looked at her like she was expendable, it all came rushing back now, sharp and ugly and impossible to outrun. She’d just thrown herself between me and a silver blade without a second thought. For me. And what had I ever given her excep

 I couldn’t sit still.The suite felt too small, the walls pressing in like they were trying to squeeze the air out of my lungs. I paced from the window to the couch, back again, boots scuffing the same strip of carpet until the fibers started to look worn. Sage’s words kept looping through my head, quiet but relentless: What if there’s a traitor inside Silvercrest?Who?Cassidy? She’d been head of security for twelve years, knew every gate code, every patrol schedule, every blind spot in the perimeter. But she’d bled for this pack more times than I could count. She’d taken silver to the gut during the border skirmish with Nightbreeze three winters ago and still showed up for duty the next week with stitches leaking through her shirt.My uncle Silas? He’d been Beta since before I was born, always at my father’s right hand, always the one smoothing edges when tempers flared between packs. But he&