Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 150

**Chapter 150: The Savior**

**Deanna’s POV:**

The instant Luis stepped through the door, a jolt of anxiety coursed through me. My heart raced, and I felt the delicate wine glass in my hand tremble slightly as I tightened my grip.

Maurice, who had been engaged in lively conversation just moments before, abruptly shifted his focus to greet Luis, his enthusiasm palpable.

Luis settled onto the couch with an air of confidence, crossing one leg over the other, exuding a cool, nonchalant demeanor as if he were the very essence of this space.

Maggie’s eyes lit up with recognition, her expression morphing from surprise to hope in a heartbeat.

“Ms. Deanna, that’s the man who came looking for you! He must be someone important. We’re saved!” Her voice was a mix of excitement and urgency, and I could feel the weight of her words pressing down on me.

I stood there, paralyzed, my mind racing yet betraying no outward sign of my inner turmoil.

“Maggie, why are you spacing out?” she urged, her voice tinged with panic as she stomped her foot in frustration.

Across the room, Luis casually pulled out a cigarette, and a beta rushed to light it for him. The ember glowed bright red at his fingertips as he inhaled slowly, the smoke curling like a serpent into the air. His voice, when it came, was flat and devoid of emotion. “What’s going on here?”

A chuckle broke the tension. “Just having a little fun. This Omega was begging Mr. Gross for a chance. Said she’d prove herself by drinking.”

Maurice’s grin was wide, almost mischievous, as he leaned into the atmosphere of the moment.

“Lucky you. Do you know about the Mooncrown Pack? They’re one of the oldest pureblood lines in Lycanland. And this man right here is the Alpha from the Mooncrown Pack. If you two can finish those bottles in front of him, I’ll skip the preliminaries and put you straight into the finals.”

All eyes in the room shifted toward me and Maggie, the air thick with a blend of tension and excitement, as if the crowd had gathered solely to witness our impending struggle.

Maggie’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her gaze pleading with me as if I held the key to our escape.

My brows furrowed in deep thought, and my lips pressed tightly together, sealing away my reluctance.

The prospect of drinking all that alcohol was daunting, but now I felt trapped, cornered with no viable escape route.

My gaze drifted toward Luis, who sat at the center of the room, embodying quiet authority. He radiated calm and composure, a man born into power. The faint, sharp scent of cedar enveloped him, making him seem almost ethereal, untouchable.

It was strange to think of him as the same man who had held me close the previous night, his warmth enveloping me, his breath mingling with mine. In that moment, he felt like a ghost from another world entirely.

Maggie’s desperation was palpable.

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