Page 71 of Alpha's Revenge Luna

“But Caleb is on his way. I just asked them to drop him off.” Excitement fills me and I glance at Dion when I feel the mind-link open up.

“We need to leave, Emery.”

“But Caleb?” I mind-link back.

“No, we need to leave,” Dion urges, and I feel his worry and my brows furrow as he drops his arm across my shoulders. I glance up at him.

“Don’t fight me, I will explain once home and after I verify a few things,” he adds.

“You haven’t even finished your tea,” Grandma urges, moving to the coffee table. I sigh and take a step toward her, but Dion’s grip tightens on my shoulder, stopping me.

“We must get going, we were only passing through,” Dion says, “We were hoping Caleb would have been home by now, but we can stop by next week,”

“Maybe Emery can stay the night?” Grandma asks, and I feel his grip tighten on me, his arm slipping to my waist, tucking me closer. Why is he acting this way?

“Perhaps, but we should get going if we want to get home before dark,” Dion tells her, and I don’t miss how Grandma’s eyes narrow slightly.

“Go with Dion,” Elara urges me, and she must feel my confusion.

“Whatever Dion is thinking, he is worried for our safety. Something is off and when he looked at the photo, I didn’t like the way he or his wolf reacted,” Elara tells me.

“Okay, Grandma,” I plaster a fake smile, reaching out to her, and signaling the end of our visit with a heavy heart. She steps closer hesitantly and I give her an awkward hug because Dion doesn’t let me go.

“Drive safe,” she offers, her voice devoid of warmth as we turns to leave. Dion ushers me out of the house and to the car.

He opens the back door for me, and I pause, turning to wave to Grandma when he blocks my view of her.

“I need you to get in the car, love. Now!” Dion says, forcing a bit of his aura over me, not enough to hurt me but enough to show he will use it if I don’t listen.

Kyrio, feeling it, jumps off the hood looking alert, and immediately climbs into the driver’s side.

I peer up at Dion and I can see he is only a moment away from tossing me in the car.

Sliding into my seat, he shuts the door, climbing in the passenger seat.

Kyrio takes off, leaving a dust trail while I glance at Dion, plugging my seatbelt in.

“What’s going on?”

“Not now, Emery. We just need to get away from here. I’ll explain once home,” Dion tells me.

The car ride is a cocoon of tense silence. The hum of the engine feels loud and Kyrio glances at me in the mirror before turning the radio on. Dion’s eyes are fixed on some distant point beyond the road. His mind, elsewhere.

We don’t even make it out of my father’s pack territory when Kyrio speaks, his eyes glancing in the mirror again. “We’re being followed.”

“What?” I whip around, peering through the rear window to see a nondescript van trailing behind us. A van? I glance at Kyrio.

“It’s a van.”

“There are two black SUVs behind it,” Kyrio adds, taking a turn into the city instead of heading to the highway leading home.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“The city, that stretch. We’ll be sitting ducks. We need to lose them and find an alternate route home,” Kyrio adds, and Dion glances at me.

“Are you sure?” Dion asks Kyrio, his calm facade finally cracking as he glances out the back window behind me.

“The vehicle has maintained a constant distance for the past eight miles and has been following us since we left her grandmother’s street,” Kyrio confirms, and my heartbeat quickens. But why would anyone be following us?

Panic claws its way up my throat, and I fight to keep my breathing even while Dion uses the GPS maps, zooming in and out of the city map. This isn’t just paranoia; this is real. Someone is tailing us, and the whys and who thrash in my mind.

“Can you lose them?” Dion’s voice is low, equal parts worried and murderous. Yet he isn’t worried about himself. I can feel that much. He’s worried about me being with him.

“I’m going to try, but I don’t know this city well. Find another way out of here. If not, I will try to double back,” Kyrio assures. The car suddenly accelerates as we approach a T section in the road.

My hands grip the seat, knuckles white as I brace for whatever comes next. Dion keeps scrolling the maps and pulling places up and I glance out the rear window to see the van picking up speed and turning onto the same street. Shit, I was hoping he was being paranoid.

“Fuck, find somewhere, Dion, somewhere crowded in case.” Kyrio’s eyes dart to the mirror meeting mine. He doesn’t finish what he is going to say, but he doesn’t need to, Dion seems to understand whatever he is going to say before he stops.

“I’m trying...” Dion growls, his fingers moving over the screen quickly. “Next left,” Kyrio rips on the steering wheel, and I am thrown into the middle seat by the force. Dion calmly gives directions.

“There is a mall; it has an underground carpark,” Dion says. A mall? Why a mall?

The underbelly of the city swallows us whole as Kyrio steers the car into the gaping maw of the mall’s underground carpark.

Shadows cling to the cold concrete pillars, and the fluorescent lights flicker overhead.

Peering over out the window, we seem to have lost them after a lot of turns and two traffic lights that Kyrio ran through.

“There,” Dion whispers and Kyrio stops the car, parking it on the second level of the underground carpark.

Dion nods, his eyes scanning the rearview mirror one last time before Kyrio cuts the ignition. The silence that follows is oppressive, punctuated only by our shallow breaths and the distant echo of another vehicle entering the cavernous space. I peer out but it’s not the van or the black SUVs.

Dion climbs out of the car and Kyrio opens the glove compartment and I notice the Glock inside, but he doesn’t take that, instead he grabs his phone, shutting it.

“Listen,” Dion’s gaze meets mine, as I turn to climb out of the car when Dion opens my door. “You need to go up into the mall. Blend in. I’ll take care of things here.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, but he is already yanking me from the car. He marches me toward the stairwell instead of the elevator when I hear tires screech on the ramp leading in here. Dion shoves me inside the emergency fire exit.

“We’ll ambush them from below,” Kyrio says and Dion nods before Kyrio takes his shirt off then rushes off and jumps the barrier to the lower level.

“Go, Emery, now. I will come find you.”

The idea of leaving him there to face whatever is coming alone twists my gut. “No, I’m not leaving you—”

“Dammit, this isn’t up for discussion!” His voice is sharp. He reaches out, his hand firm on my shoulder, guiding me toward the door. “You’ll be safer in a crowd. I can’t deal with this while worrying about you.”

My heart hammers against my ribcage, each beat echoing the urgency of his words. I want to argue, to stay alongside him, but the look on his face tells me arguing would be futile. And deep down, beneath the layers of fear, I know he is right.

“Okay,” I relent, my hand trembling as I reach for the railing of the stairwell. “You’ll come find me?” I ask, and he nods.

“Always,” he replies, but there is no humor in his smile, just the grim acceptance of a man acquainted with danger.

He presses his lips to my forehead and steps out into the chill of the carpark, the damp air clinging to my skin. Behind me, I hear the soft click of the stairwell door locking.

My footsteps echo, too loud in the cramped space, each one sending a pulse of dread through me.

I cling to the cold railing. Halfway up, the first steps a sudden burst of voices from below halts me mid-step—gruff, urgent tones that claw at the silence.

I pause, turning back toward the door. I creep down the steps, pressing my back against the gritty wall.

At first, I hear nothing but the low sound of an engine and then I hear doors shutting on a car.

“Got the stuff ready?” one voice rumbles, a deep baritone that seems to vibrate through the very air.

“Yep, it’s all loaded,” another replies, the sound of metal clinking subtly beneath his words. “This new poison they cooked up should knock him down long enough.”

My heart clenches, the beat erratic. Poison? The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and I imagine the minuscule slivers of death, concealed in the guise of lead, waiting to be propelled by hatred and ignorance.

“Make sure you’re locked and loaded,” the first man orders. “We can’t afford any slip-ups. That Hybrid freak is probably armed.”

A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead, but I force myself to listen, to gather every scrap of information, no matter how much it carves at my soul.

“We fuck up this time, she may just have our heads,” I hear and I pinch my brows together.

“Shut it, Ronny!” the baritone voice hisses.

“Found the car, it’s on the next level. They’re definitely here,” comes another voice.

“Just find the girl, and let’s put that bastard down once and for all.” I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand, the noise sounding far too loud in the stairwell’s silence.

My mind reels, my stomach churning with a nauseating mix of disbelief and realization. How could she? And yet, she has betrayed me, betrayed us both, with a single phone call.

“Keep it down,” the boss grunts. “Just focus on the job. Once we’ve dealt with this, we’ll get our payday.”

They are moving now, their steps a muffled drumbeat retreating further into the shadows of the carpark. I remain frozen, grappling with the fear that seems to have taken root inside me when I hear the car’s engine cut off and I hear their footsteps growing more distant.