After Severance Alpha Fell in Love With Ex-Luna novel Chapter 131

Chapter 131: Dangerous Revelations

Chapter 131: Dangerous Revelations

(Sophia Rivers’s POV)

My face turned pale as Nathan Sterling’s words hit me like ice water. I had been careless, underestimating his intelligence and cunning.

“You should be grateful that I don’t want to do this now,” Nathan warned coldly, his eyes burning with fury.

“But next time I don’t know.”

He turned toward the door, his shoulders rigid with anger. Panic seized my chest as I watched him prepare to

leave.

“Nathan, wait!” I lunged forward desperately, grabbing his arm. “I really don’t dare anymore!”

He shook me off violently, causing me to stumble backward.. “I don’t believe your words.”

His voice was flat and emotionless, which terrified me more than his anger. I knew I was losing him

completely.

“Please, listen to me!” I called out as he reached for the door handle. “I have a new plan. I don’t need to target Elena anymore.”

Nathan paused, his hand frozen on the door. He didn’t turn around, but I could see the tension in his

shoulders.

“I found a replacement,” I continued quickly, sensing his interest. “Someone who can convince Marcus that

she was the she–wolf who saved him years ago.”

Now he turned, his eyebrows raised in skeptical curiosity. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s a woman from the village where the k********g incident occurred,” I explained, my voice gaining

confidence. “She witnessed the rescue of two people. She knows enough details to be convincing.”

Nathan’s expression remained guarded. “You think Marcus will believe some random village woman?”

“As long as Marcus doesn’t recover his memories of that incident, he’ll never know the truth,” I said with growing certainty. “This woman can provide the validation he needs.”

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Nathan studied my face for a long moment. I could see him weighing the possibilities, calculating the risks.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Sophia,” he said finally. “But I suppose it’s better than your previous

schemes.”

(Elena Blackwood’s POV)

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That night, I was tormented by vivid nightmares about the k********g incident. In my dream, I saw myself as a

child again, huddled with five other terrified children in that dark, cold basement.

The sick child was coughing violently, black blood splattering from his mouth. The crimson droplets landed on another boy’s face, staining his pale skin.

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But as I watched in horror, the boy’s face began to change. His features shifted and morphed until I was staring at Hugo Ashworth’s adult face, covered in that same black blood.

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I jolted awake with a gasp, my heart pounding frantically. Cold sweat covered my skin as the nightmare’s Images lingered in my mind.

Marcus stirred beside me, immediately alert. “Elena? What’s wrong?”

He sat up quickly, his hand reaching out to touch my damp forehead. “You’re soaked in sweat. Did you have a nightmare?”

I nodded shakily, still trying to process what I’d seen. Why had my mind connected Hugo to that traumatic

memory?

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“Who were you dreaming about?” Marcus asked, his voice gentle but curious.

I avoided his searching gaze, not wanting to explain the confusing dream. “It was nothing. Just old

memories.”

Marcus pulled me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me protectively. “Try to sleep again. I’m here.”

But sleep wouldn’t come easily. I lay there in his embrace, troubled by the dream’s meaning and the

impossible connection my subconscious had made.

The next morning at breakfast, I was still preoccupied with the nightmare. I reflected on how the boy in my memory had helped distract the kidnappers, allowing Marcus and me to escape.

According to news reports, only two survivors remained from that incident. The brave boy who had helped us

must have perished along with the others.

This made it impossible for him to be Hugo. The connection my dream had created was just my mind playing

tricks on me.

(Elena Blackwood’s POV)

During breakfast, Amber Stone approached Marcus and whispered something about a signed contract. Her

voice was too low for me to hear the details.

Marcus nodded and turned to me with what he probably thought was good news. “Elena, I bought back the

Blackthorne family compound for you.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. I set down my fork, staring at him in disbelief.

“You can live wherever you want after we return to the Northern Territory,” he continued, seemingly oblivious

to my shock.

“I don’t want to go back,” I said firmly, my voice cutting through his optimistic tone.

Marcus’s expression darkened immediately. The warmth in his eyes disappeared, replaced by something cold

and dangerous.

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I stood up abruptly, pushing my chair back. “I need to get to the institute.”

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“Elena.” His voice stopped me at the doorway. When I turned, his tone had softened slightly. “Eat first.”

I shook my head. “Amber, please pack the food. I’ll eat at the institute.”

(Marcus Blackwood’s POV).

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My mood turned increasingly dark as Elena’s rejection echoed in my mind. But it wasn’t just her refusal to

return to the Northern Territory that bothered me.

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Chute 131 Dangerous R

Last night, she had talked in her sleep. Her voice was filled with concern as she whispered about someone’s safety, pleading for “him” to be careful.

The jealousy consumed me like poison. Who was this man she worried about even in her dreams?

I gripped my dining knife so tightly that my previous hand wound reopened. Blood seeped through the bandage, staining the white gauze red.

“Alpha, your hand is bleeding again,” Amber observed with concern.

I looked down at the blood with frightening calmness. “It’s nothing.”

Amber studied my face carefully. “Are you having self–destructive tendencies?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I dismissed her concern, though the pain in my hand felt almost welcome compared to

the ache in my chest.

(Elena Blackwood’s POV)

At the institute, I threw myself into work with desperate intensity. I performed three surgeries back–to–back, barely stopping to eat the packed breakfast.

When I encountered Hugo Ashworth in the corridor, he was speaking with a patient’s family. I found myself studying his face more intently than usual, searching for any resemblance to the boy from my nightmare.

“The surgery went well,” Hugo was telling an elderly couple. “Your son should make a full recovery.”

The relief on their faces was touching. Hugo’s gentle bedside manner contrasted sharply with his usual professional distance.

“Elena,” he called out when he noticed me watching. “How are you feeling today?”

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