Revenge to the Alpha Mate novel Chapter 235

Chapter 235: Chapter 235

Jacob’s Perspective

My girl was back.

The words echoed in my mind like a tremor of pure sweetness, making my hands tremble slightly on the wheel. It wasn’t fear. It was a dizzying, weightless joy, the kind that made me feel like if this rustbucket of a pickup decided to take flight, I’d just ride it out with a grin plastered on my face.

Celena had forgiven me.

She’d actually said it. She’d looked right at me with those eyes, stripped of all their defensive edges, and said those words in a voice soft enough to break my heart. It wasn’t a dream. The celebratory honks and whistles from Lily’s SUV behind us were proof enough. Dave and that lunatic twin Jim were probably still hollering.

And that kiss. God above, that kiss.

I could still taste the salt—hers or mine?—and feel the profound shift as she finally, completely relaxed into my embrace. The trust in that surrender was everything. And beneath it all, thrumming back to life like a reconnected circuit, was our bond. Warm, solid, brilliant. It flooded the dark corners of my soul with light. My wolf was practically purring deep within, a contented, rumbling presence that seemed to say, Took you long enough, idiot.

Xavier leaned out of the lead SUV ahead, flashing me a grin and a gesture that was both obscene and utterly heartfelt. They all got it. This was bigger than just me and Celena. She was pack. Her pain had been a fracture in us all. Seeing it heal... it mattered.

I felt lighter. Like a physical weight had been lifted from my shoulders after years of carrying it.

But—

There was always a damn "but."

I blinked hard, forcing the stubborn heat behind my eyes to recede. With effort, I wrenched my focus away from the warmth of Celena beside me, her hair brushing my arm, and back to the stark reality of the highway stretching ahead.

The joy was real, potent, but it didn’tt change the facts on the ground.

We were still chasing a nightmare wearing my friend’s face, a thing with strength that defied reason. Up ahead, the Hunter vehicles were still visible, their muzzle flashes punctuating the dust cloud with sporadic gunfire. The van’s taillights bobbed in the haze like malevolent eyes.

We didn’t have time for a proper celebration. No time to pull over, to hold her, to say all the things I’d been storing up. The need to do just that was a physical ache.

The immediate danger hadn’t taken a lunch break. If anything, it was getting worse.

As if to underscore the point, the pickup shuddered violently beneath us. A harsh, metallic coughing sound erupted from the engine bay, followed by a high-pitched shriek of protest. On the dashboard, the temperature needle slammed into the red zone and vibrated like it was having a seizure.

"Damn it!" I cursed, smacking the steering wheel. The old truck, battered from the Hunter compound and pushed beyond its limits in this chase, was giving up the ghost. Thin, toxic-looking smoke began to seep from under the hood. Our speed dropped precipitously; the accelerator pedal was now just a suggestion under my foot.

"Jacob?" Celena’s voice cut through my frustration, laced with fresh worry.

"She’s dying on us," I grunted, my eyes scanning the surroundings. We were on a open stretch of interstate, flanked by scrubby trees and fields. Nowhere to hide. Luckily, Xavier’s SUV instantly matched our decelerating speed, pulling up close alongside.

"Jump! Now!" Xavier barked, shoving his passenger door open. Adrian was already scrambling into the backseat, clearing space.

No time for debate. I grabbed Celena’s hand. "Go!"

We fumbled with seatbelts. Celena moved with a fluid grace, planting a foot on the bench seat, grabbing Xavier’s waiting hand, and launching herself across the gap into the SUV’s passenger seat. I followed, pushing off from the pickup’s doorframe and throwing myself toward the open door. Adrian’s strong grip closed around my forearm, hauling me into the back with a grunt. The moment my weight left it, the pickup gave one final, pathetic shudder and coasted to a stop on the gravel shoulder, a thicker plume of grey smoke now pouring from its engine.

Xavier didn’t wait. The SUV’s engine roared as he punched it, surging forward to close the distance with the dust cloud ahead.

"Talk about terrible timing," Adrian remarked, punching my shoulder lightly, his earlier glee over our reconciliation still evident.

I ignored him, my entire being focused ahead. The soundscape had changed.

The gunfire was no longer sporadic. It was denser, more sustained. A proper firefight. I could hear multiple weapons, their reports coming from slightly different vectors. Through the windshield, beyond our own dust, I could now make out the frantic dance of red and blue emergency lights amid the general haze.

The SUV’s radio was muttering some inane talk show. Xavier reached to kill it, but Celena’s hand stopped him. She turned up the volume just as a severe, automated voice overrode the broadcast:

"—emergency update. Interstate 70 between Greenfield and Milton is now closed in both directions due to an active hostile incident. All motorists are instructed to exit immediately or pull over, lock doors, and remain in your vehicles. Law enforcement is on scene. Repeat, Interstate 70 is closed—"

"Shit," Xavier breathed, his knuckles white on the wheel. "It’s gone hot. Public hot."

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