All Chapters of The Wolfpack's New Receptionist: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

I was pinned. My shoulders were screaming, a throbbing ache radiating from where my wrists were lashed to the steel of the bedpost. The industrial zip-ties were unforgiving; every time I tried to test the tension, the plastic teeth clicked into the next notch, biting deeper into my skin until I could feel the pulse in my fingertips becoming more frantic. I should have seen this coming. Caspian wasn’t just a drunk; he was a Vance. Even at his most intoxicated, the instinct to survive, to dominate, was still there. The door to the suite clicked open. Caspian walked in, looking composed. He had showered, shaved, and put on a fresh white shirt, the top three buttons undone. He carried two mugs of coffee, the aroma of it cutting through the penthouse. He looked at me with a terrifying, detached admiration. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice smooth, devoid of the slurred vulnerabili

I sat on the floor, my back against the cold concrete wall, watching the moisture bead on the surface of the steel door.I heard footsteps. They weren't the heavy thuds of Rico or the impatient click of Viper’s boots. These were light, graceful, and deliberate.The lock opened. Nara stood in the threshold. She wasn't wearing the mask of the grieving mate anymore.She held a suppressed 9mm handgun, the muzzle leveled directly at the space between my eyes. She smiled. It was the most beautiful, horrific thing I had ever seen."You really are a persistent little parasite, aren't you, Eloise?" she whispered, her voice smooth."Where is Jax?" I rasped, my voice cracking.Nara tilted her head, a mock-pensive expression crossing her face."The boy? Oh, he was so brave. He really thought he was being clever, lurking in the rafters with his little recorder. I had to be quite creative to keep him quiet. He’s currently occupying a very tight space beneath the floorboards of the old pump house. I

Mako’s roar ripped through the air.I threw my leg over the seat and kicked the engine of a discarded bike that still had its key in it. I didn't look back. I pinned the throttle, the tires smoking as I tore across the yard, narrowly missing the front bumper of Viper’s SUVas he drove into the yard.I hit the entrance to the industrial drainage pipes.The bike plummeted into the darkness of the Veins. Behind me, the howls of the pack faded, replaced by the deafening, rhythmic echo of my own engine against the curved stone walls.I was alone. Rico was dead. And I was deep in the dark, bleeding and hunted.Mako and Rat were behind me.I could feel the pressure of the hunt. It was the same "Rabbit Run" Cane had used to train them months ago. Back then, it was about reflexes and training. Now, we weren’t playing games. The predators behind me were fueled by the scent of Rico’s blood on my hands. They were closing the gaps, flanking the exits, and cutting off my air. The bike roared, the bi

I moved through the sawgrass like a shadow, my training screaming in my joints.I reached the rusted pump house and found Jax’s bike ditched in the tall grass. His phone was lying next to his saddlebag as if it had been discarded; Nara must have been too arrogant to think anyone would find it. It looked like it had been stepped on; the screen was cracked, but it still switched on.I grabbed it, my fingers flying across the screen. I didn't have time for a conversation. I sent a single text to Cane's private burner: Meet me...Jax. I added the location of the border area where Cane had first taken me when he claimed me. I slipped inside the pump house through a ventilation grate."Jax," I breathed.A muffled thud came from beneath the floorboards. I scrambled toward the sound, prying the wood loose until I saw him. Jax was bound with wire, but his eyes weren't full of tears, they were burning with a cold, hard fury. As soon as I cut the cloth from his mouth, he spat on the floor."Took

The underground arena was a cathedral of concrete and cruelty. High above the floor, the air was filtered, chilled, and scented with the expensive tobacco of the elite.I sat in the corner of my enclosure, my fingers curled around the iron, watching the silhouettes move behind the bulletproof glass of the VIP gallery.Silas stepped to the edge of the balcony, a spotlight catching the sharp, arrogant lines of his face. He tapped a microphone, and his voice boomed through the arena."Gentlemen, Ladies, and honored guests," Silas began, his voice smooth as silk."What you see before you in the pit are the 'Standard' models. The Blood-Hounds. These subjects have only taken the Thorne Base Serum. It has successfully rewritten their DNA, granting them the form of the wolf, but as you can see, they are limited. They are exhausted. They are tethered to the frailties of natural biology.”He gestured dismissively toward Viper, Rat, and Mako, who stood in a defensive circle in the center of the