The Human Girl Who Tamed Alpha King Chapter 213

AURORA

I woke to a throbbing head and darkness so complete I couldn't tell if my eyes were open. My mouth felt like sandpaper. How long had I been here? Hours? Days? Fragments of memory flashed—the jewelry shop, Atlas beside me, the stranger with the syringe.

I shifted, wincing as pain shot through my body. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I made out a figure slumped against the wall. Atlas. Relief washed over me when I saw his chest rising and falling. Alive. Thank the Moon Goddess.

"Atlas," I whispered, my voice cracking. No response. I crawled closer, careful not to make noise. His face was bruised, a cut above his eye had crusted with blood.

"Atlas, my sweet brother. Wake up." I reached for his hand but jerked back with a hiss when my fingers brushed cold metal. Chains—not pure silver, but something burned my skin. I sniffed carefully. Wolfsbane. The chains were coated with it.

I tore a strip from my shirt, wrapped it around my hand, and tried pulling the chains. My body was too weak, and the wolfsbane seeped through the fabric, burning my palm. Damn it.

A clang from above made me freeze. The door scraped open, letting in harsh light that made me squint. Two men entered, both tall with olive skin.

"Looks like the princess has finally woken up," said the first man, his accent distinctly European. Italian, I guessed.

The second man's eyes raked over me as he started unbuckling his belt. "I think I'll have some fun."

My stomach knotted with fear, but the first man grabbed his arm. "No. You heard the orders. She's not to be harmed." I exhaled shakily.

"She won't tell," the second argued. "I want her. Her mate killed my friends." I recognized him then—one of the men who escaped the night Lawrence rescued me.

"I don't care. We have orders. You won't disobey." The second man reluctantly rebuckled his belt, and I almost collapsed with relief.

"Think that one needs another injection?" he asked, nodding toward Atlas.

The first man glanced at my brother. "He's still out. Let's go." They left, locking the door behind them.

Italians. I was sure now. Alpha Charles Huntington's men. That bastard.

I tried calling Atlas again. Nothing. My brother was strong—even without fully mastering his wolf form, he was special. But wolfsbane was toxic to us, and Atlas didn't have a wolf spirit to help him fight it yet.

I reached for Kaila, my wolf, but found only silence. Whatever drug they'd used was blocking our connection. I prayed it would wear off soon so I could reach her.

A sudden commotion erupted outside—shouting, then a man's scream, followed by silence so complete it was unnerving. I held my breath, waiting. Nothing happened.

Hours passed. My head began to clear, the heaviness lifting. I could feel Kaila now, faintly, but not enough to establish our mind link. Atlas remained unconscious, his breathing shallow but steady. I worried about what they'd given him.

A flutter in my belly made me pause. My baby. My son had kicked. I placed my hand over the spot, tears filling my eyes. At least he seemed okay. For now.

I leaned against the cold wall, trying to piece together why they'd taken us. Was it revenge? Leverage against my father? Or something to do with Lawrence's past? My hand instinctively moved to my mate mark, seeking comfort from the connection that had been muted by whatever drugs they'd given me. Hold on, Lawrence. Find us. I know you will.

The cellar smelled of mold and something metallic—blood, maybe. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, a steady rhythm that threatened to drive me mad. I ran my hands along the rough stone walls, searching for any weakness, any hope of escape. Nothing. Just solid rock, cold and unyielding like our captors' hearts. I curled protectively around my belly, whispering promises to my unborn son. "Your father will come. He always finds me."

LAWRENCE

Three days without Aurora, and I was going insane. I didn't know if she was alive, if our unborn son was safe. Rocky was just as frantic, pacing our mental space, growling and whining. We had no leads, just suspicions without proof.

Aria insisted I stay at the family residence. I agreed—having family around helped, though I'd never admit it aloud.

"Eat something," Aria pushed a plate toward me. Jace sat across the table, his face a mask of controlled fury. I forced down a bite of toast, tasting nothing.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number. No message, just a photo.

Aurora and Atlas. She looked asleep, peaceful almost. Atlas was chained to the wall, clearly unconscious. My heart stopped.

Jace roared, instantly commanding through the pack mind link: *Trace this number. Now.*

Moments later, he cursed under his breath. "The number can't be traced..." He growled and stalked out.

I stared at the photo, feeling useless. I couldn't protect my mate, couldn't save her. The one thing I swore I'd always do, and I failed. Rocky howled in our shared mind, a sound so agonized it matched my own inner turmoil.

"I have to find her," I said, my voice breaking.

Aria touched my arm. "We will. We'll find them both."

I kept staring at the photo, scrutinizing every detail, desperation making my hands shake. I'd spent years tracking enemies across continents. There had to be something here. Something they missed.

That's when I saw it—a broken mirror at the edge of the frame. In the unshattered corner, a face reflected clearly.

I zoomed in, recognition hitting me like a fist. Jace returned—Aria must have called him through their link.

"This man," I pointed at the screen. "I've seen him before. He was the last to escape the night I saved Aurora. He's from Alpha Charles Huntington's pack."

Jace's eyes narrowed. "That's our proof. Alpha Charles must have ordered the kidnapping." He clapped my shoulder. "Good eye, Lawrence. This might help."

I sank into my chair. Our first real lead. The photo burned in my memory—Aurora's vulnerable form, my son growing inside her. Every instinct screamed to shift, to hunt, to tear apart anyone who dared touch them.

My years as a lone wolf had taught me patience in tracking prey, but this was different. This wasn't about survival or territory. This was about the woman who'd given meaning to my existence, who carried our future within her. My hands clenched into fists, claws threatening to emerge. I'd learned restraint, but for Aurora, I'd unleash every ounce of savagery I possessed.

I'd been alone my whole life. I'd survived. But Aurora and our child were different. They were everything. I'd find them if I had to tear apart every pack in Italy with my bare hands. And when I did, there would be no mercy.