The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate (Jason and Laila) by Caroline Above Story novel Chapter 25

Laila's POV

The driver ignored every word I threw at him, his boot heavy on the accelerator.

The city fell away behind us, swallowed whole by jagged silhouettes of factories and warehouses. Streetlights grew sparse, their glow replaced by long shadows that stretched like claws across cracked asphalt.

My head was spinning faster now, the drug Brittany had slipped into my champagne burning its way through my blood like acid. My skin buzzed, my limbs felt heavy, but panic cut through the haze like a knife.

You can't die here. Ava needs you.

"Please," I tried again, forcing strength into my trembling voice. "Whatever she's paying you, I'll match it. Double. Triple."

The man laughed—low, sharp, cruel. "Lady, this isn't about money."

My fingers fumbled for my phone. They felt clumsy, like they belonged to someone else. I squinted through the blur of the screen until Jason's name came into focus. Instinct. Six years gone, and he was still the one my subconscious reached for in crisis.

I hit call.

The line rang once before collapsing into static. No service. Of course. We were already too far into the old industrial district.

Cold dread clawed up my throat. You're on your own.

The car slowed to take a sharp corner, and clarity pierced the fog. This was my only chance. It was now or never.

I threw my body against the door as I pulled the handle. It gave with a violent jerk, and suddenly I was airborne, tumbling into the night.

The impact slammed fire through my shoulder and hip. Asphalt shredded my gown, tore my skin raw, but I rolled with the momentum, scraping across gravel until the world stopped spinning.

Pain roared through me, but adrenaline drowned it out. I forced myself to my feet. My ankle screamed, blood streaked my arms, but I didn't care.

I could still run.

"Shit!" Tires screeched. The driver cursed, slamming his door open. He was after me now, pounding footsteps closing in.

But I knew these streets. I'd walked them years ago, heavy with Ava in my belly, chasing day jobs that paid cash and asked no questions. This wasteland had once been my map of survival. Tonight, it might be again.

I darted into an alley between two warehouses. Rusted metal, shattered windows, weeds pushing through broken pavement. A maze built for ghosts.

That's when I heard it.

A howl.

It was answered by another. And another.

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