Alpha’s Regret After His Pregnant Luna Left novel Chapter 138

(Audrey’s POV)

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel. I had no choice but to obey. With my heart pounding against my ribs, I stepped on the gas pedal, pulling out of the garage with trembling hands. The silver blade against my neck felt like ice, threatening to sear my skin with the slightest pressure.

“Who sent you?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady. My wolf was cowering inside me, sensing the immediate danger of silver so close to our vulnerable flesh.

“Shut up and drive,” the voice growled from behind me. “Just follow my directions.”

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the panic rising in my throat. Arthur’s warning from this morning echoed in my mind: “No matter what happens recently, you have to trust me, okay?” He’d known. Somehow, he’d known this was coming.

“Turn right at the next intersection,” my captor ordered.

The blade pressed closer, and I felt a sharp sting as it barely broke skin. A burning sensation followed-the unmistakable reaction of werewolf flesh to silver. My wolf whimpered louder within me, urging caution.

“I’m turning,” I assured him quickly. “No need for that.”

We drove for over an hour, heading further away from the central territories. The familiar landscape gradually gave way to areas I rarely visited-sparse trees, abandoned dens, and fewer signs of pack presence. Wherever we were going, it wasn’t going to be good.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. The sound seemed to startle my captor.

“Who’s that?” he demanded, digging the blade deeper.

“I don’t know,” I winced. “I can’t see it without checking.”

“Answer it. One wrong word and I’ll slice your throat.”

With one hand, I carefully pulled out my phone. Florian Stormhowl’s name flashed on the screen. He was probably wondering why I hadn’t shown up to pick up his mysterious female wolf.

“Hello?” I answered, keeping my voice as normal as possible.

“Where are you?” Florian asked, his typically lazy tone carrying an unusual edge. “You were supposed to be at the Academy twenty minutes ago.”

The silver blade pressed harder, drawing more blood. The burning sensation intensified.

“I’m just running a bit late,” I managed through gritted teeth. “Traffic is-”

“No more tricks,” my captor hissed. “Hang up now.”

“I have to go,” I said quickly to Florian. “I’ll call you back.”

I disconnected before he could respond, dropping the phone into my lap. My wolf was growing increasingly distressed, sensing not just the physical danger but the isolation as we traveled farther from any allies.

Florian called twice more during our journey. Each time, I let it ring, not daring to answer again with the silver blade already drawing blood.

“Turn in here,” my captor finally instructed, pointing to a dirt road leading to what looked like an abandoned territory compound.

The building was large but clearly hadn’t been maintained in years. The windows were dusty, the territory markers faded from neglect. I parked in the yard, my hands shaking as I turned off the engine.

“Don’t move,” he ordered as another car pulled into the yard behind us.

My heart sank as I recognized the sleek black luxury SUV. I’d seen it before at Emma’s birthday celebration.

“Get out of the car. Now,” my captor demanded.

I complied, stepping carefully onto the cracked pavement. The moment I was out, my senses caught a familiar scent that confirmed my fears.

Emma Shadowcrest stepped out of the SUV, her designer outfit looking ridiculously out of place in this decrepit setting. Beside her was Marcus Blackclaw, the wolf who had been behind Arthur’s recent injuries. His calculated movements and business-like demeanor suggested someone used to operating in the shadows of pack politics.

“Take her inside,” Emma commanded, her eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction.

My captor, a heavily muscled Beta with wolf pack tattoos visible on his arms, grabbed me roughly and dragged me toward the house. I struggled instinctively, but his grip was too strong.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he growled, shoving me through the doorway.

He pushed me down a set of stairs into a dusty basement. I stumbled on the last step, falling hard onto the concrete floor. Pain shot through my hand as I tried to break my fall, and I felt the skin of my palm tear open.

Marcus produced a rope that made my skin crawl even before it touched me. I could smell the silver woven into its fibers-not enough to kill, but enough to weaken a werewolf significantly.

As they tied me to a wooden post in the center of the basement, Emma watched with obvious satisfaction.

“Is it done?” she asked the tattooed Beta with the phone.

He nodded. “Arthur is on his way. He sounded… angry.”

“Perfect,” Emma smiled. “Put her up.”

Before I could process what she meant, the tattooed Beta threw the silver-laced rope over a beam above my head and pulled it tight. The rope burned where it touched my skin, making me gasp in pain.

“Emma, think about what you’re doing,” I pleaded, wincing as the silver burned deeper. “This isn’t how you form a mate bond. You can’t force someone to love you.”

“I’m not forcing anything,” she replied calmly. “I’m simply creating a situation where Arthur can make a clear choice. And when he chooses me-which he will-our packs will unite, and you’ll be forgotten.”

She gestured to the Beta wolves. “Hang her properly. I don’t want her touching the ground when Arthur arrives.”

The tattooed Beta positioned a rickety stool beneath me, adjusting the rope so that I was standing precariously on my toes.

“This is what happens to wolves who get in my way,” Emma said, her voice now close to my ear. “Remember that, if you survive today.”

With a sudden kick, the Beta sent the stool flying from beneath my feet.

I dropped, the rope immediately tightening around my torso and arms. My full weight pulled against the silver-laced bindings, and I felt my skin burning wherever the rope touched. I slid downward slowly, the noose tightening with each inch.

The pressure on my chest increased until I could barely draw breath. Black spots danced before my eyes as the silver weakened my wolf, prevented her from helping me fight.

The further I slid, the tighter the rope became, constricting my chest until I could barely breathe. It was so tight, so suffocating, my wolf struggling desperately within me as consciousness began to fade.