Chapter 122: Chapter 123

Alex’sPOV

Regret gnawed at me, a bitter aftertaste lingering in my mouth as Adrian’s words echoed in my head. I should have paid more attention, should have heeded the not so veiled threat hanging heavy in his final words. Instead, I’d brushed it off, convinced that whatever he had planned, I could handle it.

Money, influence, power – I had it all in excess. Surely, I could weather whatever storm he intended unleash. But for the first time, the weight of my arrogance pressed down on me, a suffocating realization of my own flaw.

The first blow came swift and unexpected. News of werewolves existence was leaked to the world. The truth became public spectacle, splashed across headlines and dissected on every news channel. Panic rippled through the human population, fear morphing into a primal hatred. Bounties were placed on the heads of any werewolf, turning former neighbors into hunters, friends into potential betrayers. We, the creatures of myth and legend, were suddenly the monsters their stories.

The world descended into chaos. Werewolves, forced out of the shadows, scrambled to protect themselves. Violence erupted, escalating what was once a silent war into an all–out conflict. My focus narrowed, my priorities shifting. The pack, my responsibility, became my sole concern. Keeping them safe, ensuring their survival now my paramount objective. And her, Amaya, she remained a constant worry in the

back of my mind.

For a week, I managed a risky dance. The initial frenzy hadn’t reached my city yet, offering a temporary reprieve. From the safety of my heavily guarded mansion, I worked tirelessly at damage control.

. Businesses were

network of loyal followers who helped me navigate the cha

7reatened, investments sabotaged. But I had resources, a

was a general a silent war fighting an unseen enemy.

Somehow with undeniable evidence, my name the restaurants I owned, everything I’d built over the years,

Then, the walls crumbled. The attack was swift, brutal, and undeniably targeted right made headlines revealing to the public that I was one of them. My companie began to go up in flames.

The message was clear: I was no longer untouchable.

a

Fear wasn’t a part of the equation. It was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Anger, a simmering inferno, fueled my every move. But beneath it all, cold, calculating logic took hold. This wasn’t random not a spontaneous outburst of violence. This was a calculated attack, methodical and precise. And deep down, in the pit of my gut, I knew who was behind it.

Adrian.

Frustration gnawed at me. Holed up in this cramped safe house, miles away from everything, I was strategizing. This whole situation was a tangled mess, an irritating knot that needed untying. And what made it even more infuriating was Christian’s refusal to pick up his damn

phone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his voice crackled through the receiver. He let out a long, annoyed sigh before drawling, “Look, Alex, you know you and I aren’t a thing. Stop blowing up my phone.”

I glared at the phone, willing him to feel the intensity of my stare. “This isn’t the time for jokes, Christian. Why haven’t you been taking my calls?

“Because, like I already said, you and I aren’t exactly in a relationship,” he replied dryly.

I growled, the sound a low rumble in my throat. “Christian!”

He sighed again this time a hint of seriousness creeping into his voice. “Alright, alright, lighten up. It’s not the end of the world… well wait, maybe it kind of is if everything’s going up in flames.”

“Your dark humor isn’t appreciated right now,” I spat. “Did you find anything?”

1/3

of silence between us before he spoke again. This time, his voice lacked its usual sarcastic . “Things are . Really bad. Your headquarters in the city took another hit. I still haven’t been able to locate Adrian, and I got some news about Amaya.”

My blood ran cold. Amaya. I’d specifically assigned two of my most trusted guards, both human and werewolf, to ensure her safety, “What happened to her?” I demanded, my voice an icy whisper.

“She was at the company when another attack went down,” he explained. “Her best friend’s husband – I don’t know his name–shifted to protect her. He got shot.”

Tran a hand through my hair, the frustration

“She seems okay for now, at least from what I can tell. The last

knotting

even tighter in my gut. Shit. “And Amaya?”

sighting reported her walking away in a daze.”

“Okay. Keep searching for Adrian. That bastard j

going to pay for all of

Is. I have people working on stopping the attacks on my buildings.”

He hummed in response. “You’re public enemy number one, Alex. There ar

rumors that you have blood money and your empires were built on the blood you used the monster in you to kill. I know whatever I say won’t stop you from going after her but for the love of all that’s holy, stay in the shadows and use your head.”

The line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone in my hand. Public replaced by a suffocating sense of isolation.

enemy number one. The once familiar comfort of power was gone,

First things first: Amaya. She was alone, vulnerable, and the knot of worry tightening in my stomach threatened to choke me. I couldn’t waste

another second.

Leaping out of the safe house, I sprinted towards the car, ignoring the protests of the guard stationed outside. The engine roared to life as I slammed the door shut.

The city, once a familiar landscape of towering buildings and bustling streets, had become a stranger. Smoke billowed from gaping holes in buildings, the acrid smell stinging my nostrils. Debris littered the streets, twisted metal skeletons of cars the remnants of recent attacks. Looters roamed freely, their faces twisted in a mix of fear and greed as they scavenged the wreckage.

Fury boiled within me, hot and potent. My people, the ones I entrusted with Amaya’s safety, where were they? The thought of them failing me, of them letting her get hurt, sent a fresh wave of anger crashing through me.

Every building that resembled the office complex from Christian’s description became a potential destination. My eyes scanned the sidewalks, searching for a flash of copper hair, a familiar face, Minutes bled into what felt like hours, each passing second a hammer blow to my already strained nerves.

Then, a flicker of movement in the distance. A flash of copper, unmistakable even from afar. Amaya. My heart lurched in my chest, a surge of relief battling with the anger still simmering beneath the surface. She was walking, her movements slow and erratic, her head hanging low. My grip tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.

Pulling over to the curb a safe distance away, I killed the engine. Watching her, I saw the exhaustion etched on her face, the way her shoulders slumped with defeat. I was probably the last person she wanted to see but I was here and she wasn’t supposed to be roaming the streets like crazy person. It wasn’t safe. But as I reached for the door handle, a new figure entered the scene.

A tall, broad–shouldered man emerged from the shadows. He spoke, his voice a low rumble that didn’t reach me, but the effect on Amaya was undeniable. Her head snapped up, a flicker of recognition replacing the daze in her eyes. And then, to my utter annoyance, she ran. Not away from him, but towards him. Right into his open arms.

Right into Ivan’s arms.

Rage choked me, a physical sensation that constricted my throat and made it hard to breathe. I watched them, Amaya nestled in Ivan’s arms. Every muscle in my body screamed to act, to tear them apart and reclaim what I felt was rightfully mine. But logic, a cold hand gripping my

2 G

held me back.

deep, shuddering breath, I forced myself to turn away. Sliding back into the driver’s seat, I slammed the car into gear and peeled the curb. I didn’t know where I was going, didn’t care at that precise moment. All I needed was distance, some space to clear red clouding my judgment.

gh the t The insistent buzzing of my phone broke through fog of anger. Glancing at the screen, I saw Christian’s name flash across the display. With a growl, I snatched the phone up. “What?” I barked, my voice raw with barely contained emotion.

“Looks like things didn’t exactly go according to plan in La La Land,” Christian drawled, his usual sardonic tone tempered with a hint of

seriousness.

“What do you want, Christian?” I snarled, the question laced with frustration. The last thing I needed right now was his snarky commentary.

The amusement vanished from his voice. “I have some good news. News that might just help you put all that anger to good use.”

A flicker of curiosity sparked through the haze of rage. “Good news?” I echoed, skepticism heavy in my voice.

“Yep,” Christian replied, a hint of a smirk creeping back into his tone. “The good kind. I found A