Revenge to the Alpha Mate novel Chapter 264

Chapter 264: Chapter 264

Aurora ’s Perspective

The hot shower washed away the last chemical traces of the lab from my skin. My own soft pajamas felt foreign. I should have been relaxing, but I wasn’t. Every muscle screamed for rest, while my brain whirred like a computer forced into a reboot—overloaded, frantic. Brett’s face, Uncle Jacob’s eyes dimming with instant despair, Aunt Selena’s silently trembling shoulders... these images bombarded me, hurting more than any physical wound.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lie in my safe bed and pretend everything would be okay.

I threw on a thick robe, my hair still dripping, and rushed downstairs. Light spilled from the slightly ajar door of the family’s small conference room, along with the murmur of tense conversation and the heavy scent of cigar smoke—a sure sign my dad was under extreme stress. I took a breath and pushed the door open.

Everyone was there. My dad, Ethan, sat at the head of the table, brow knotted, a long ash clinging to the cigar in his hand. My mom, Lily, stood beside him, her hand on his shoulder, pale but with her usual razor-sharp gaze. Uncle Jacob paced before the window like a caged beast, each step heavy enough to make the floorboards groan. Aunt Selena was curled in a corner armchair, clutching a soaked handkerchief, eyes swollen. Xavier, my dad’s most trusted lieutenant, and Uncle Adrian and Uncle Keith sat in grim silence. The air was thick enough to slice.

All eyes snapped to me—filled with concern, questions, and a faint, desperate hope that I might bring *any* news about Brett.

"Aurora , you should be resting..." Mom began, her voice weary.

I shook my head, pulling out a chair. The scrape against the floor was loud in the quiet. "I can’t sleep. I need to tell you everything I know. Now."

So I told them. The street race. The cops. The steel cable. Waking up in Pandora, Eric Milton’s revolting face, Liam Thornton’s appearance and rescue.

I spared no detail.

I spoke while staring at the wood grain of the table. I couldn’t look at Uncle Jacob or Aunt Selena, especially when describing Brett lying motionless on the ground. My throat felt raw, scraped dry.

When I finished, a longer, heavier silence fell. Only the occasional crackle from the fireplace and Uncle Jacob’s increasingly ragged breaths filled the room.

The inconsistencies were glaring. Why target us? A simple kidnapping for ransom? Then why separate us? Why send me to a secret institute while Brett vanished? Was Liam Thornton’s explanation the whole truth?

These questions screamed in my head. And everyone in this room—seasoned veterans who’d navigated the gray zones between our world and humanity’s for decades—had to be seeing them too.

Dad stubbed out his cigar, grinding the butt forcefully into the ashtray. His face looked carved from stone in the lamplight. "Separate handling," he said, his voice low. "Aurora was misidentified as a problematic stray and funneled into their partnered institute. But Brett... he was either taken by another party, or kept separate by Pandora’s backers for reasons we don’t know."

"Or the institute itself has different... ’processing’ streams," Xavier added coolly, the chill in his words drawing a stifled sob from Aunt Selena.

Jacob stopped pacing abruptly. His fist came down on the heavy oak table with a *thud*. "I don’t care about their *streams*! Find my son! Ethan, Lily... use everything! *Everything*! Leave no stone unturned!"

"We will, Jacob," Mom’s voice was iron-clad. She withdrew her hand from Dad’s shoulder, crossing her arms—her battle-stance. "Every Moonlight resource. Every contact. Every... less-than-official channel. All activated. But we need better direction. Thornton’s ’other channel’ search takes time. We can’t just wait."

Her gaze shifted to me, a blend of maternal care and Luna’s calculation. "Aurora , your details are useful. We’ll analyze them immediately. But right now, you need food. Real rest. You’ve been through an ordeal. You’re at your limit. I won’t have you running yourself into the ground."

I wanted to argue, but Dad spoke, using his Alpha voice, leaving no room for debate. "Listen to your mother. Lex!"

The conference room door opened, and Lex—my brother—poked his head in. He looked... different. Less of that habitual cocky swagger. His shoulders seemed broader. I’d always found the kid annoying—immature and showing off.

"Take Aurora to the kitchen, get some food into her, then see she gets to her room to rest," Dad commanded. "Make sure she’s secure."

Lex nodded. No smart remark. Just a simple, "Got it."

I knew arguing was futile, at least openly. Dragging my still-weak legs, I followed Lex out of the suffocating room.

The kitchen was brightly lit. A spread waited on the vast marble island: steaming soup, perfectly roasted beef sandwiches, fresh fruit, a tall glass of milk. The smell made my hollow stomach cramp violently, letting out an embarrassingly loud growl.

I didn’t care about manners. I slid onto a stool and attacked a sandwich. The rich taste of meat and bread flooded my senses, warmth and energy slowly seeping back into my chilled limbs. Lex didn’t sit. He leaned against the opposite counter, watching me eat silently. No jokes about my table manners. When my soup bowl emptied, he wordlessly refilled it. When my milk glass drained, he got another carton.

Only after I’d shoved the last piece of apple into my mouth and let out a very unladylike, genuine burp, did the corner of his mouth twitch. He handed me a napkin.

"Done?" he asked.

I decided to gamble. Of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to lay out the full plan. That would scare him and likely get me stopped. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Lex pressed his lips together, clearly in an internal war. Concern for my safety and duty to the pack’s orders versus a teenager’s love for risk, a sense of responsibility for finding Brett, and... the feeling of being trusted and needed. I could see the latter rapidly gaining ground.

"If we get caught..." he hedged.

"I’ll say I forced you. Stole your keys. All on me," I said immediately. "But you need to cover for me. Buy me a few hours."

He was silent for another few seconds. Then, as if coming to a decision, he gave a firm, single nod. "Alright. But you follow my lead. No wandering off. No revealing who you are. If anything feels wrong, we bolt."

"Deal." A weight lifted, even as another wire inside me pulled taut.

The plan was simple. Lex escorted me back to the second floor, "guarding" my door. I quickly changed into nondescript dark jeans and a hoodie, stuffing my hair under the cap. Then, I opened my window—thank you, Dad, for the "scenic" room with its balcony and small, decorative fire escape ladder—and slipped down the metal rungs into the shadows below. My heart hammered, half from the action, half from nerves.

Lex’s car—a modified muscle car with an engine he’d tuned to be relatively quiet but still holding a predatory rumble—was already waiting in a predetermined, shadowed back alley. I slid into the passenger seat. It smelled of gasoline, old leather, and Lex’s sporty cologne.

"Seatbelt," Lex muttered, and we slid into the night.

We drove straight to the other side of the city, where the lights were dimmer, the buildings older, the order... fuzzier. Finally, he pulled into a back alley behind a building with a flickering neon sign missing several letters. ’The Propeller’ was barely legible. A few shadowy figures loitered by the door, smoking. The thump of music and a wave of loud voices leaked out.

Lex killed the engine and looked at me, one last check. "Sure? Once we’re in, you stick to me like glue. Don’t drink anything I don’t hand you. Don’t go anywhere with anyone."

I looked at the grimy door, breathed in the air—a mix of garbage, stale beer, and damp brick. It was crude. Chaotic. Dangerous.

But maybe, just maybe, it held a thread leading to Brett.

"I’m sure." I pulled my cap lower and pushed the car door open.