Page 47 of Alpha Chained

I allow myself to bask in this rare moment of lightness, pushing aside the nagging worries that have become constant companions. For just a few precious minutes, I let myself imagine that we’re a normal couple preparing for a road trip, not two fugitives on the run.

Raura’s voice breaks through my reverie. “You ready to hit the road, tough guy?” She’s standing beside the bed now, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and concern.

The lightness fades as quickly as it came. I nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah, we should get moving.”

As much as I crave these moments with her, I know they can’t last. The harsh reality of our situation is unavoidable. We’re not out of danger yet, not by a long shot.

“We’ll need to ditch this truck soon,” I say, pushing myself up into a sitting position. The wound in my leg twinges, but the pain is almost gone. If it wasn’t for the traces of silver, it would probably have healed completely by now – faster than normal for me, but I’m not complaining. “They’ll be looking for it,” I add.

Raura’s expression sobers, but she gives a determined nod. “Then let’s get going. The sooner we put some distance between us and this place, the better.”

We leave the room, and the door closes with a sense of finality.

I feel a slight pang as we leave it all behind. This shabby little space had been our sanctuary for one night – the first time in a decade I’d experienced true intimacy with another person. The memory of Raura’s body against mine, our frantic joining, warms me even as the chill mountain air bites at my skin.

Get a grip, dammit!

I steel myself and follow her to the battered pickup truck parked right outside our door. She’s all business now, her eyes scanning our surroundings warily as she unlocks the driver’s side. I can’t blame her vigilance. After our desperate escape from the Enclave, we can’t afford to let our guard down for even a moment.

Still, I find myself sneaking one last glance back at the motel room. Part of me wants to cling to the peace and connection I found there with Raura, however fleeting it may have been. But I know that’s impossible now. We have to keep moving, have to put as much space between us and Parker as we can.

“I’ll drive,” I say as she begins to move toward the driver’s seat.

She raises an eyebrow. “Suit yourself,” she says, tossing me the keys.

I get behind the wheel, my hands grasping the worn leather as a warm sense of familiarity washes over me when the engine rumbles to life. The memory of driving was one of the small pleasures I clung to about my old world – those moments when the open road stretched out before me.

Raura settles into the passenger seat beside me, her movements graceful and easy despite the cramped cab. “You’re a good driver,” she observes as I guide us smoothly out onto the highway and then merge into a lane.

“A bit rusty.” A faint smile curls my lips. “I used to enjoy it,” I admit, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead. “When I was free.”

The words hang heavy in the air between us for a time, the road clear at this time of day, aside from the occasional long-distance hauler. Then her hand finds mine where it rests on the gearshift. Our fingers intertwine, and I glance over at her. Her eyes are on me, soft and gentle, and I can almost believe that everything will be alright.

Almost.

“What?” I ask her when she keeps staring at me.

“This…feels…” She pinches her lips together. “This feels kind of…nice? Does that sound crazy? I mean…sure, we’re on the run for our lives from a psycho. But aside from that…I’m happy.”

I chuckle. “I’m happy, too.”

“Does that make us nuts?”

“Little bit.” I grin. “But it’s a good kind of nuts.”

She’s quiet for a while, seemingly mulling this over, then breaks the silence again. “Tell me about your life before…you know…” She doesn’t need to finish the sentence; we both know what she’s asking.

I take a deep breath, memories I’ve kept locked away for so long rising to the surface. “Not much to tell, really. You’d probably be bored.”

“Try me.” She squeezes my fingers. “Were you always a fighter?”

I shake my head. “I was the son of our pack’s Alpha,” I begin slowly. “Being groomed to take over one day. But that life…it wasn’t for me. I always wanted to be a healer.”

Raura is quiet, listening intently as I speak about my childhood – long days spent trailing after the pack’s medicine woman, learning the secrets of herb lore and healing. How I loved the quiet power of mending wounds and curing ills more than the showmanship of leadership.

“And yet Parker made you fight. When they took you.” She looks at me. “Why?”

“I was good at it.” I shrug. “I had the skills I’d learned when my father schooled me to take his place. They’d always come naturally…like breathing. Plus, I’m big, I guess. Fast, too. Especially as my wolf. When they tried to abduct me, it took an army of them to bring me down. Parker saw potential.”

---