Semua Bab Blind Alpha And His Unwanted Mate: Bab 421 - Bab 430

LucasMorning bleeds in before I’m ready. Not sunlight... no, light this pale can’t be called sun, but that gray smear that creeps past blinds, the stormy version of dawn. My eyes open before the alarm. They always do. Internal clock, internal predator.The apartment hums faintly. Refrigerator. Pipes. Someone’s TV murmuring two floors down. Coffee brewing in the place across the hall... hazelnut roast, weak. The town wakes like a machine switching on, piece by piece.I swing my legs off the bed, the floor cool under bare feet. My wolf hates mornings without her scent. It makes a low noise in my chest... not a growl, more like a question. Not here. Not yet.I move anyway. Muscle memory, routine, the anchor that keeps me from pacing like the wolf inside. Shower. Toothbrush. Cold water against my face to burn away the haze of night. I watch myself in the mirror for a beat longer than necessary... eyes darker than usual, shoulders tight. I don’t like the man looking back. I like the man I

Aurora The café door creaks open, the little brass bell above it chiming its cheerful betrayal... too loud, too bright, announcing me. I already have too many eyes on me and my every move... I hate this bell... because all I want is to slip in unnoticed.But I notice. Always. Every corner, every shadow, every breath of roasted beans and baked sugar hanging in the air. And there. Him.Lucas.He sits where he always does...his usual spot. As if the world revolves around that corner table. The same damn spot where my world tilted the moment I saw him. Only this time, he’s not alone.My steps falter before I even realize it, because he’s not just sitting. He’s… hugging someone.I stop just inside the doorway.My eyes discreetly narrow as I look at them. His arms draped around her shoulders. Not casually. Not sloppily. Firm. Protective. The kind of hug that tells a story.Her hands—ah. Not clutching him back. One rests on the table, knuckles bruised. The other? The other is around his ba

AuroraLucas’s arm stays around me, firm and unbothered, like it belongs there. And apparently, so do I... because my body has decided to betray me. My brain says move, Aurora, move before you do something embarrassing, but my legs? My legs have gone on strike.And that scent again. Cedarwood. Lucas. Warm skin. Trouble.Oh no.No, no, no. Absolutely not.Because the thoughts sneaking into my head right now? They are not saint-approved. They are not even mildly appropriate for someone standing in public, in broad daylight, with company. My brain is skipping through the most random, blush-inducing ideas like it’s auditioning for a bad romance novel.Stop it, Aurora.Stop thinking about how close his mouth is.Stop wondering if he smells that good everywhere.Sweet spaghetti and meatballs, what is wrong with me?The worst thing even though I don't look at her, I know his sister is watching me. I bite the inside of my cheek and force my gaze upward, only to lock eyes with her.And just

AuroraThe car hums softly beneath me, the low purr of the engine blending with the rhythmic thrum of my pulse. I press my forehead lightly against the cool glass of the window, watching as the town begins to fade behind us. The familiar streets of the town, the little cafés, the flower stalls, the sound of laughter spilling from shopfronts, slip away like watercolor bleeding into gray.I bite my lip. The further we drive, the heavier the ache inside me grows. Lucas’s face keeps flashing in my mind, the way his eyes softened when he looks at me, he makes me feel like I am the only important person in this world. My heart flutters at the memory.I shouldn’t have kissed him again. I know that. But how could I not? The way he looked at me, like I was something rare and worth fighting for, it made the whole world tilt. It made the walls I’ve spent years building tremble.The driver doesn’t speak. He never does. There’s only the soft hum of the tires rolling over asphalt and the occasional

LucasThe phone feels heavier than it should, like it’s holding more than plastic and circuits. Like it’s holding a possibility, the possibility of hearing the voice that silences all the chaos in my head.I sit at the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, the weight of anticipation brewing in my chest like an unfamiliar ache. I’m not used to this feeling. I am Lucas. I don’t anticipate... I decide the outcome. But this… this is different. Because no matter how many outcomes I decide, this one depends on her.The first ring starts. A sharp inhale escapes me. The walls of my room feel too close, the silence too thick. The sound of the ring cuts through it, relentless, each chime hitting something raw and alive inside me.Come on.Second ring.I drag a hand through my hair, my grip tightening around the phone. Every muscle is tense, alert, strung tight like a bow ready to snap. I’m listening for something that isn’t even there yet... her voice.Third ring. She won’t answer. The thought