All Chapters of The Alpha's Secretary Mate: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The basement of Vane Tower was a world of damp concrete and humming power lines, a far cry from the glass-and-gold luxury of the executive floor. I stood at the edge of the sub-level maintenance tunnel, my breathing shallow and my skin feeling like it was on fire. Silas was a wall of muscle behind me, his hand clamped firmly on my waist as if he were afraid I’d vanish into the shadows. The violet light in my veins was screaming now, a sharp, electric buzz that told me the "trojan horse" was close. "She’s behind the secondary coolant tank," I whispered, my voice echoing slightly in the dark corridor. Silas didn't answer with words. The gold in his eyes flared, and I felt the raw, predatory heat of his Alpha power surge through the bond. He moved in front of me, shielding my body with his own as we rounded the corner. There, huddled against a heavy steel pipe, was Sarah. She wasn't the composed assistant I remembered; her hair was a mess, and her skin was glowing with that sickly, pe

The air in the Vane Industries basement was thick with the scent of wet concrete and ozone. I stood paralyzed as my younger sister, Maya, twitched in the center of the garage. She didn't look like the girl we had saved from the pier. Her head was cocked at an unnatural angle, and her eyes were rolled back, showing nothing but a terrifying, milky white. "Maya, stop!" Silas roared. His voice was a physical weight, a shockwave of Alpha authority that usually brought every wolf in the city to their knees. Maya didn't even blink. Instead, a hideous, mechanical rasp tore out of her throat. It sounded like two gears grinding together in a pool of blood. "Asset... compromised..." she croaked. "Target... Sila

The darkness didn't just hide the world; it felt like a physical weight, pressing against my skin with a cold, oily pressure. I could hear the rhythmic whine of the Synthetic Alphas' internal servos as they recalibrated, their mechanical frames clicking in the void. They didn't need light to find us. To them, we were just heat signatures and heartbeats—targets waiting to be liquidated. Beside me, Silas was a furnace of raw, frustrated energy. I could feel his beast clawing at the edges of his ribs, a predatory growl vibrating deep in his chest. He held Maya with a possessive strength that would have crushed a normal woman, but his movements were jagged, his Alpha fire struggling against the necrotic fog Julian had pumped into the garage. "Silas, stay behind me," I hissed, my voice dropping into a register that made the shadows retreat. "I am not a coward, Elena," he rasped, the gold in his eyes trying to burn through t

POV: Elena The air in the Himalayas didn't just freeze; it clawed. At twenty thousand feet, every breath felt like swallowing a handful of jagged glass, the oxygen so thin it left my head spinning in a slow, nauseating orbit. I stood at the edge of the jagged ridge, my fingers trembling as I pulled the collar of my heavy tactical parka tight against a wind that sounded like a thousand dying wolves. Behind me, the private jet was a shrinking silver needle against the endless, blinding white of the peaks. "The jet can't go any further, Elena," Silas rasped. I didn't need to turn around to feel the furnace of his presence. Even through the gear, his Alpha heat was a thrumming, violent radiator, melting the snowflakes before they could even touch the fabric of his suit. But for the first time since I’d signed my soul over to Vane Industries, I felt a tremor in our bond that wasn't rage. It was resonance. The mountain was hu

POV: Elena The air in the temple didn't just go cold; it vanished, replaced by a vacuum of pure, necrotic silence that made the marrow in my bones feel like liquid lead. I stared at the woman stepping out of the altar’s shadow, my heart thudding a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs. She was a walking blasphemy—a reflection of myself, from the dark waves of her hair to the silver lightning mapping her skin, but her eyes were void of color, two flat, milky orbs that held the chill of a thousand graves. "Elena, stay behind me," Silas rasped, his voice dropping into that lethal, low-frequency rumble that usually made the concrete walls of Vane Tower groan. He stepped in front of me, his massive frame a shield of solid, vibrating muscle, but I could feel the jagged spikes of his terror through the bond. His Alpha fire was struggling, flickering like a guttering candle against the heavy, oily pressure of the woman’s presence. "You brought a