Chapter 137 Get Rescued
Aelira’s POV
The hulking henchman moves closer with lethal intent, his scarred expression set with grim resolve. Even as I try desperately to shield Alarion’s injured body, he shoves me aside without mercy.
“Move, you bitch!” he spits.
My wrists are bound, and I lose my balance, falling hard onto the concrete.
The thug seizes Alarion by his blood–soaked shirt collar and begins hauling him toward the spinning cement mixer. The massive machine thunders on, sounding eager for another victim.
A fresh trail of blood follows across the warehouse floor from Alarion’s wound, painting a gruesome red path that fills me with terror. My wolf cries out in agony inside me.
“Alarion!” I scream, forced to watch as his pallor grows even more deathly.
“No!” I shout again, fighting to rise despite my ankles being tied.
But Cyrinne suddenly looms over me, slamming me back to the ground with cruel strength. The crazed delight on her face reveals just how far gone she is.
Her green eyes shine with wild pleasure as she watches Alarion being dragged closer to destruction.
“Aelira Sunmere, don’t be impatient!” Cyrinne cackles, her laughter unhinged. “You’re next in line!”
She claps her hands together with mad excitement.
“I want you to see with your own eyes as Alarion gets churned into nothing but bloody pulp! Ha–ha.”
Just as I ready myself to try getting up again, a deafening crash suddenly shakes the warehouse.
A sleek black SUV bearing the unmistakable Nightshade Pack insignia smashes through the warehouse doors, sending metal and debris flying as it skids to a halt inside.
As soon as the driver’s side door swings open and a striking, formidable man steps out, I can’t help but beam with unrestrained happiness.
“Daelor!” The name bursts from me, my voice trembling from sheer relief.
The moment he steps inside, Daelor’s overwhelming Alpha energy saturates the warehouse, making the very walls seem to hum with his presence.
Cyrinne’s look shifts in an instant–from crazed delight to stunned terror. Instinctively, she retreats several steps, her former bravado vanishing.
Watching Daelor advance with intimidating confidence and a harsh set to his features, Cyrinne jolts out of her craze. Her gaze flickers desperately before locking onto a nearby heavy wrench.
Without hesitation, she stoops, seizes the hefty tool, and brandishes it above her, her intent murderous.
“Drop dead!” she screeches, lunging at me with the wrench raised.
But Daelor reacts before she can strike, surging forward with an Alpha’s speed that outpaces her by far.
His foot slams into Cyrinne’s abdomen, propelling her several meters away. She collides with a pile of metal barrels, the cash echoing throughout the warehouse
His eyes–cold and silver–sparkle with warning as he watches her crumple to the ground.
Wasting no time, Daelor draws close to me, his distinctive Alpha scent enveloping me and making me feel safe.
“Aelira, are you hurt?” His words are soft, concern threading through his voice despite the surrounding turmoil.
He reaches down to lift me from the floor and expertly begins freeing my bound hands.
<Chapter 137 Get Rescued
But I shove his hands away urgently, panic rising inside me.
(+) Gets+ Mani
“Hurry, you have to save Alarion!” I gesture frantically toward the cement mixer. “They’re trying to kill him!”
Daelor barely reacts, his brow creasing only slightly. He continues to slice through my ropes with unwavering focus.
“Stay calm,” he replies, his baritone steady and unhurried. “Alarion is safe now. Someone is already helping him.”
It’s at that moment I realize Daelor didn’t arrive alone.
A group of seven or eight territorial enforcers has filed in behind him, their tactical gear catching what little light filters through the warehouse.
Once my bonds are off, I scramble to my feet to check on Alarion, my ankles shaky after being bound for so long.
Daelor catches my arm gently but firmly, protective instincts radiating from him.
“Take it slow,” he advises.
The enforcers have already overpowered the gang of burly thugs, locking silver–laced cuffs around their wrists with practiced skill.
Even Cyrinne lies on the ground in handcuffs, her immaculate makeup now streaked with dust and the sting of defeat.
Nearby, a uniformed enforcer is gently helping Alarion up, every movement slow and careful.
As Alarion shifts, blood gushes anew from the reopened knife wound, soaking his shredded shirt in fresh red.
Despite obvious suffering, Alarion manages a faint, encouraging smile for me. Though pain clouds his amber eyes, they remain bright.
“Aelira,” he murmurs weakly.
I move toward him as quickly as my battered ankles allow, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
“Don’t speak,” I tell him firmly. “We have to get you to a hospital right away.”
Soon enough, uniformed officers are easing Alarion into an official enforcer vehicle, handling him with care.
I instinctively move to follow, but Daelor’s firm grip closes around my wrist.
He eyes my swollen ankle with genuine concern.
“You’re riding with me” he says with Alpha certainty. “You need yourown injuries treated, too.”
Right then, Maria’s wailing voice slices through the clamor inside the warehouse.
“It’s so painful! Please be careful with me, woo woo woo…
Suddenly, it strikes meithat Maria was also abducted alongside me during the orchestrated accident.
Now freed by the local enforcers, Maria stands shakily a short distance away. Her eyes, wide with shock, scan her surroundings before landing on Daelor and me.
Tears streak her reddened cheeks as she staggers forward, clearly seeking comfort from Daelor.
“Alpha Daelor!” she cries out, her voice full of desperation. “You’re finally here! I was terrified.”
But Daelor keeps his distance, his hand firm on her shoulder, his expression stern and commanding.
“Stay still,” he orders coldly. “You’re filthy.”
Maria freezes in disbelief, then lowers her eyes to her stained clothes, feeling wronged. After his rejection, she doesn’t dare approach him again.
Relieved to see that Maria isn’t physically hurt, I feel a wave of comfort wash over me.
I move to follow Daelor out, but a sudden, sharp pain stabs through my injured ankle, nearly causing me to collapse.
In an instant, Daelor lifts me effortlessly into his arms, sweeping me off my feet.
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<Chapter 137 Get Rescued
I instinctively resist, embarrassed by my bedraggled appearance.
“I must be even filthier than Maria, after crawling and fighting,” I mutter.
Daelor meets my gaze with those piercing silver–gray eyes.
“Don’t struggle,” he says with authority. “Your ankle is badly hurt.”
When I continue to object, telling him, “I’m dirty….” he responds simply,
“It doesn’t bother me.”
His unique cedar fragrance envelops me, soothing the restlessness of my wolf.
Daelor carries me toward his high–end SUV, while Maria, frustrated, stamps her feet behind us.
Once inside the vehicle, I can’t help but ask the question weighing on me.
“Do you know where Alarion’s been taken?”
Daelor starts the car, his expression unreadable as he fixes his silver–gray gaze on me.
“Is he really that important to you?”
I answer sincerely, “He got hurt protecting me.”
The reality hits me again: if Alarion hadn’t intercepted Cyrinne’s knife, it would be me lying wounded on the warehouse floor.
Daelor remains silent, though his jaw clenches. He steers the car toward Aethervale Hospital, his strong hands steady on the wheel.
At Aethervale Hospital, staff rush over with a mobile stretcher as soon as we arrive.
Flustered, I wave them off.
“It’s just
“It’s just my ankle,” i protest. “No need for all the fuss.”
Daelor dismisses them with a wave, his Alpha presence unwavering.
“It’s alright. I’ll take her myself,”
I consider objecting again, but when I catch Daelor’s penetrating gaze, I hold my tongue.
Daelor carries me directly into the orthopedic exam room, where a werewolf specialist carefully inspects my ankle.
“It’s alright,” the doctor assures us. “Luckily, there’s no bone damage, but you need to avoid overexertion. Take it easy for a while and you’ll be fine.”
Daelor listens intently, absorbing every instruction and prescription, his protective instincts evident
After leaving the exam room, I feel compelled to find out how Alarion is doing. My wolf whines with worry for the wounded. Alpha
Daelor seems to know what I’m about to request and updates me before I get the chance to speak.
“There’s no need to worry–I’ve already checked on his condition,” he states, his tone deliberately even. “Alarion is all right. The blade was removed without complication, and it missed all major organs. With some rest, he’ll recover.”
Relief washes over me, easing the intense remorse that had been pressing down on me. Alarion suffered his injury while protecting me, and if he’d been seriously harmed, the guilt would have haunted me forever.
But then Daelor poses a question that makes me hesitate, his piercing silver–gray eyes narrowed in scrutiny.
“It was obvious Cyrinne was aiming for you specifically, but how did Alarion manage to arrive so fast?”
I meet his gaze, puzzled. ‘Alarion showed up to save me.”
Daelor arches an eyebrow, wearing a faint, doubtful smile that betrays his Alpha instincts.
Chapter 137 Get Rescued
“He certainly has a remarkably efficient network for gathering information,” he observes.
This comment makes me frown, realizing how unusually swift Alarion’s arrival had been. Still, with Cyrinne’s clear
murderous intentions and the real danger Alarion faced, I set aside any thought of conspiracy.
