Chapter Summary: Whisper 150 – Alpha's Regret the Luna is Secret Heiress (by Sylvia) by Free Collection
In Whisper 150, a key moment in the Alpha novel Alpha's Regret the Luna is Secret Heiress (by Sylvia), Free Collection delivers powerful storytelling, emotional shifts, and critical plot development. This chapter deepens the reader’s connection to the characters and sets the stage for upcoming revelations.
hapter 82: Trapped by Silver Chains–1
Chapter 82: Trapped by Silver Chains
(Vanessa’s POV)
The forest air felt heavy against my skin as I walked briskly alongside Trevor, my wolf’s instincts screaming. danger with each step. Something wasn’t right. I could feel eyes on us, predatory and calculating, hidden among the trees and buildings of this unfamiliar town.
“Trevor, I think someone is following us,” I whispered, unable to keep the fear from my voice as my violet eyes darted nervously around the street.
The unfamiliar alpha and beta faces we passed only intensified my anxiety. Since fleeing the Northern Territory and severing ties with the Rivers pack, I’d been painfully aware of my vulnerability. My only protection now was Trevor Blake, a former Rivers pack enforcer whose loyalty stemmed from his desperate, unrequited obsession with me.
Trevor’s massive frame tensed beside me, his senses clearly on high alert as well. At six–foot–four of pure beta werewolf muscle, he cut an intimidating figure that had deterred many threats in the past.
“Nessa, don’t be afraid,” he growled softly, his voice low and reassuring as his hand moved instinctively toward the weapon concealed beneath his jacket. “No matter what happens, I will protect you with my life.” Despite his words, the knot of fear in my stomach only tightened. Trevor’s loyalty, however fierce, might not be enough against what I truly feared – Connor’s retribution.
“Trevor, if it’s Connor’s enforcers, you may not be able to protect me,” I said, my voice trembling slightly as I urged him toward our car. “Let’s drive faster back to the villa. We shouldn’t go out for a while; maybe the Rivers pack has already found my tracks.”
The white sedan felt like our only sanctuary, though a flimsy one at best. As Trevor started the engine, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were already too late.
Our escape was brutally short–lived. We had barely made it two miles when a black, reinforced pickup truck slammed into our side with devastating force, sending our sedan spinning across the road.
The air filled with the unmistakable roar of enraged wolf challenges, followed immediately by the deafening c***k of gunfire. Glass shattered around us as bullets tore through the windows.
“Nessa, get down!” Trevor yelled, already drawing his silver–loaded weapon, his beta wolf instincts flaring as he positioned himself between me and the attackers.
I huddled down in the passenger seat, paralyzed by primal fear as more bullets, some likely silver–tipped judging by their distinctive whistle, continued to pierce our vehicle. The acrid stench of gunpowder mixed with the metallic tang of werewolf blood – Trevor’s blood – filled the confined space.
“Trevor, are you hurt?” I cried out, my voice barely audible over the chaos.
Trevor’s face was a mask of grim determination despite the blood seeping through his shirt. “Nessa, there are too many of them, alphas and strong betas. We may not be able to escape today,” he responded, his voice strained as he fired back through the shattered window.
My face paled as terror gripped me. “Is it Connor’s enforcers? Are they going to kill me?”
* Chapter 82 Trapped by Sit
embrace. “I didn’t know how to tell you i couldn’t go back there.”
“You never have to explain such things to me, Livvy,” he’d responded, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Your comfort and safety are my priority.”
We arranged the details, and I felt another weight lift from my shoulders. By Saturday, I had hired a discreet moving company affiliated with the Rivers pack and enlisted Emma’s help to pack my belongings.
H
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Chapter 82 Trapped by Sif
before the door slammed shut once more.
I fumbled for the object in the dim moonlight filtering through the small, grimy porthole, recognizing it as a thick wool blanket. My momentary relief quickly turned to disgust as I felt the grime covering it and caught
–
its scent stale werewolf odor mixed with a sickeningly sweet, chemical smell that I recognized as
wolfsbane residue.
I gagged, my stomach churning with the remnants of seasickness and the offensive smells. With as much strength as I could muster, I kicked the filthy blanket away, watching it slide across the metal floor.
Overcome by cold and misery, I wept, my soft cries swallowed by the vastness of the sea. Eventually, as the temperature continued to drop and my shivering become uncontrollable, I reluctantly reached for the foul–smelling blanket.
With trembling hands, I pulled it around my shoulders.
(Olivia’s POV)
The hospital corridor felt brighter today as I made my way to Leah’s room, my steps light with anticipation. Dr. Foster had just confirmed what we’d all been hoping for the bone marrow transplant was a success. “Leah!” I called as I entered her room, unable to contain my smile. “I just spoke with Dr. Foster. The transplant took perfectly!”
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