Revenge to the Alpha Mate novel Chapter 261

Chapter 261: Chapter 261

Aurora’s Perspective

When the wheelchair passed through the final airlock door and emerged from the building disguised as an ordinary industrial park warehouse, the sudden influx of light made me squeeze my eyes shut.

It wasn’t the harsh, unforgiving fluorescent glare of the lab. It was sunlight. Afternoon light, warm and golden. It bled through my closed eyelids, painting the world a warm, glowing orange.

Next came the air. *Oh God, air!* Not the chilled, metallic, sterile taste of the recycling system. Real, outdoor, moving air. It carried the scent of sun-warmed asphalt, of freshly cut grass from a distant lawn, even a faint oily tang of exhaust—smells I usually rolled my eyes at, but which now smelled like heaven.

I opened my eyes wide, gulping in huge breaths. The cool air, warmed by the sun, hit my lungs and made me cough, but a huge, almost idiotic grin spread across my face. Unbidden tears welled up, shattering the sunlight into shimmering halos.

I was alive. I was out. My feet were on real, slightly rough concrete. Above me was a real, endless sky, even if it was carved up by the city skyline.

A euphoric, giddy relief fizzed inside me like an Alka-Seltzer tablet, bubbling up sharp and hot, making my nose sting and my throat tighten. I almost sobbed like a lost child finally seeing home. But I bit down hard on my lower lip, forcing the weakness back. *Don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of this impossibly handsome, strange rescuer who’s also a werewolf.* I had to keep some shred of composure, even if I’d just been unstrapped from a lab table.

Handsome Wolf—I still didn’t know his name—seemed to sense my upheaval. He didn’t comment, just gave my shoulder a light, natural pat, as if we’d known each other for years. "Car’s this way," he said, his voice steady, turning the wheelchair toward the parking lot.

Then I saw it.

A Tesla Model X. Sleek, dark grey, sitting quietly with its falcon-wing doors closed, like a futuristic toy.

My eyebrows nearly hit my hairline. I looked at the car, then stole a glance at the man beside me—well over six-two, broad-shouldered, radiating a quiet, predatory strength. A *Model X*? Seriously? I’d have pegged a wolf like him—clearly capable, probably high-ranking—for a roaring, muscle-bound American truck, or at least a heavily modified off-roader. This silent electric car... it clashed bizarrely with his whole coffee-sea-salt-and-primal-wilderness vibe.

"What?" he noticed my stare, a slight smile touching his lips as he hit the fob. The doors lifted silently. "Not a fan?"

"Uh, no..." I stumbled, letting him help me from the chair into the passenger seat. The leather was soft, the interior immaculate, smelling faintly of clean upholstery and his cologne. "Just... unexpected," I admitted, rubbing my still-aching wrists. "I prefer to hear an engine... well, *rumble*." Like the low growl in a wolf’s throat before a run.

He gave a low chuckle, sliding into the driver’s seat. The door shut, plunging us into near-silence, broken only by the faint whisper of climate control. "Quiet has its uses," he said meaningfully. The car slid forward, acceleration instant and startling, yet almost noiseless.

I leaned back, watching the industrial scenery flash by. The nerves that had been wound tight for nearly three days finally began to loosen. Exhaustion crashed over me in a wave. I fought to stay alert, my eyes tracking our route, stealing glances at his profile as he drove. Sharp features, straight nose. The calm control beneath his easy demeanor was clear as he focused on the road.

We merged onto the interstate, heading toward the city center. We drove for what felt like miles. The landscape shifted from desolate industrial zones to suburban sprawl.

Then I saw it.

Even in the afternoon sun, from a considerable distance, it was unmistakable—Moonlight Tower. My dad’s pride. One of the city’s tallest, most iconic landmarks. Its deep blue glass facade reflected the sun like a monolithic shard piercing the sky. It wasn’t just a building. It was my family’s symbol. My anchor. My safe zone. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Seeing it, the last vestiges of uncertain fear dissolved. I was almost home. My throat tightened again. I blinked hard, turning my face to the window.

"We’re close," Handsome Wolf—*Liam*?—said, his voice breaking the quiet and giving me a moment to collect myself. "Before I drop you home, I should probably introduce myself. Explain things. Save you from wild theories, or... having no answers for your family."

I sat up straighter, all ears. "Go ahead."

"My name is Liam Thornton," he said evenly. "Of the Northwatch Sentinels."

Thornton? Northwatch? I rifled through my memory. Vague impressions. My parents had mentioned them—an old pack, territories distant, known for being low-key. Not allies, but no open conflict either.

"My father is the pack Alpha," Liam continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "I’m not, obviously," he added with a hint of self-deprecating humor.

I could tell. An Alpha had a distinct aura—a natural, commanding pressure and magnetism, like my dad, Ethan. Liam was strong. I could feel the power coiled beneath his calm surface like a riptide under still water. But he didn’t have that Alpha ‘scent’. He was more like... a sheathed blade. Elite, but not the leader.

"As for that place, the Pandora Life Sciences Institute," his voice cooled, "it’s a joint project. The result of an... arrangement between my father and certain circles in human power structures."

My stomach clenched. "An arrangement? To study werewolves?"

Liam shook his head, brow furrowed slightly. "I’ll ensure your parents know you’re safe immediately. That’s the priority for calming the situation. As for your friend Brett..." He considered. "I saw no reports or logs matching a young male wolf at Pandora. If he was taken with you but ended up with... other interests, he’d be outside their scope, or the intel hasn’t filtered up to me yet."

My heart sank.

"However," he continued, "if you have a clear photo, I can have my people make inquiries. Stray hangouts, underground info brokers, other likely parties. Another search thread can’t hurt."

"Yes! I do!" I almost bounced in my seat. "Phone! Can I use your phone? I can log into my socials—tons of dumb pictures of Brett!" Privacy be damned.

Without a word, Liam handed me his unlocked phone. My fingers trembled but found the app, logged in (thank God for no two-factor here), and scrolled. Photos of Brett—making faces, playing basketball, sunburned and peeling from last summer... My eyes prickled again.

I found a recent, clear headshot and showed Liam. "Him. Brett. Seventeen. Brown hair, green eyes. Tiny scar above his left eyebrow from a childhood fall." The description tumbled out.

Liam took the phone, studied the image, then opened his contacts and dialed. "It’s me. New task: locate this juvenile. Brett. Moonlight Pack. Seventeen..." He concisely relayed my description and the circumstances. "Use informal channels. Report immediately. Top-tier priority." He hung up and handed the phone back.

"It’s done. You’ll be updated, or your parents will."

I clutched the phone as if it were a lifeline. The heavy dread in my chest shifted just a fraction, letting in a sliver of weak, hopeful light. "Thank you," I said again, my voice rough. "Really... thank you."

The car exited the highway, gliding onto familiar city streets. Moonlight Tower drew closer, a silent, warm beacon.

I was going home. Battered, exhausted, and carrying a world of new, complicated knowledge.

And Brett... I stared out the window at the blurring city, a silent prayer forming. *Hang on, you idiot. Just hang on. More people are looking for you now.*

*Please be okay.*