Alpha Amanda's Love Adventure (By Aurora Grey) novel Chapter 27

Chapter 27 Læm

Amanda’s POV:

KIRA

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That stupid Alan cut himself off halfway, dragging the last word out forever, clearly just to make us hang

I swallowed my irritation, turned to the window, and snapped, “Who even cares about Samson? I’m not interested.”

But even as I said it, my ears were straining anyway.

Samson had entered the physical challenge?

And he’d gotten second place?

That man-always so cold and distant-what did he look like out there in the arena?

Did he stay calm and steady like always, or … did something sharper show through?

Alice laughed inside my head, “Liar! You’re saying you’re not interested, but he’s all you can think about!”

I ignored her and just stared at the blur of city streets sliding past.

The car stayed quiet for a while, except for the soft hum of the engine and Alan humming off-key now and then.

Then my phone buzzed with a text from Theo. “Boss! Those racers who challenged you a few days ago are back! This time their offer’s insane-they said if you show up, they’ll pay 30 million Crowns and even let you use Blackrock Pack’s modified Firestorm for a month! You in?”

My brows shot up.

The Firestorm? That was Blackrock Pack’s ultimate ride-rumor said its engine had a wolf spirit crystal inside, letting it go faster than sound.

I couldn’t deny it sounded tempting, but still…

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“Say no for me.” I bit my lip, forcing myself to refuse. “Last time was already an exception.”

Theo must’ve guessed. He didn’t push, just sighed. “Got it, Boss. I’ll tell them to quit bothering you.”

Samson’s POV:

“Mr. Ortega, she refused again.” My assistant’s voice was careful, almost sorry.

My pen froze in my hand. My brows tightened.

In my head, I saw last week’s underground race again.

That tall, lean figure in a black leather jacket, face hidden by a helmet-yet the way the car tilted on turns,

turn $13

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16:33 Mon, Dec

Chapter 27 Læm

her wrist flicking the gearshift …

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And then that single glance back after the finish line, cold light flashing through the visor. Every detail is burned into my memory.

I’d spent the past days going through Eclipse Pack’s entire info network trying to track her.

I watched race footage, traced her exit, and checked every female Alpha in three nearby packs who might fit. Nothing. It was as if she appeared from nowhere and vanished just as fast, leaving no fingerprints, no scent, and no trace.

The more impossible it seemed, the more I became obsessed.

“Raise the offer to 50 million Crowns.” My eyes stayed on the black blot on the file in front of me, voice sharp as ice.

“Tell them-if she shows up, she names her price. She can take the Firestorm. She can even use Blackrock’s head mechanic.

“Got it, Mr. Ortega. I’ll handle it. I’ll make sure … I’ll make sure we bring her to you.”

My fingers moved on their own to the bottom drawer of my desk and slid it open. Inside lay a worn CD, edges chipped, surface rubbed smooth.

The plastic still faintly read “Howlstead Racing League,” though the letters were blurred with time. I’d kept it for three years.

I slipped it into my computer. Instantly, the footage came alive-three years ago, Racing League finals. Glacier Pack’s racer, Læm, in a silver-gray car, tore through the last curve with a perfect 360-degree drift, overtaking Blackrock’s frontrunner, who had been half a lap ahead.

The timer at the finish line flashed her record-three full seconds faster.

The crowd’s cheers spilled out of my speakers, distorted but still powerful, shaking something inside me.

From that day, I remembered the codename: “Læm.”

I’d loved racing since I was a kid. I’d watched that clip at least 100 times-slowing it down, freezing frames, studying every move, trying to figure out how she did that drift. But there was no trick to find.

It wasn’t just skill. It was something else… raw instinct, like being one with the car, something only an Alpha fully in tune with their wolf spirit could have.

Then the day after Læm won, she vanished. Gone, as if she was never there.

Until last week, when that mystery racer appeared again.

I pulled up her footage, froze the frame at her final turn, and placed it side by side with Læm’s clip from three years ago.

Every detail matched. Identical.

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