Bonds of the Alpha Billionaire (Maya and Alex)

-Maya's POV-

The metallic click of the gun cocking echoed in the cavernous room, sharp and final. My breath hitched, a strangled gasp escaping my lips. Miranda raised the weapon, aiming it directly at my heart. Her face, devoid of any warmth, held a cruel

amusement.

For a terrifying moment, I braced myself for the impact, my mind flashing with images of my children, their faces etched forever in my memory. Then, just as abruptly as she raised it, the gun was lowered. Confusion flooded my system.

"Ivan got to play with you?" Her voice was flat, devoid of any inflection. She took a slow step closer, the smirk on her face widening. "Why can't I have some fun before you die?"

The gun was tossed carelessly onto a nearby table, the clatter a jarring sound in the tense silence. She continued her approach, circling me like a predator stalking its prey.

My mind raced, desperately searching for an opening. Pleading wouldn't work, that much was clear. Anger, a simmering ember within me, flared briefly. "I don't understand," I spat, my voice hoarse. "What have I ever done to you?"

A snort escaped her lips. She stopped directly in front of me, her gaze raking over me with a disdain that was almost palpable. "What you've done?" She threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "I could never figure out what he saw in you. What they all saw in you. You're just so...plain."

The insult washed over me. It was irrelevant, petty even in the face of my impending doom. But somewhere deep within, a flicker of defiance sparked. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. Instead, I focused on the only thing that mattered: my children.

"Miranda, please," I pleaded, my voice trembling but firm. "I'll do anything just let my children go. They haven't done anything wrong."

My words fell on deaf ears. She rolled her eyes, a theatrical gesture that only served to heighten my desperation. "Don't you dare play the victim card with me, Amaya." Her voice took on a sharp edge. "And stop pretending you're some innocent bystander in all this.”

"If none of this had happened," she continued, her words dripping with venom, " If Ivan was truly a good guy that had fallen for you, was this how you would have continuously stabbed him in the back by sneaking around with Alex who is or was my fiancé?"

Her words stung, a kernel of truth lodged within the harsh accusations. Silence filled the room, a heavy weight pressing down on us. Her laughter echoed off the stone walls, "That's what I thought." My gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape, anything.

"You're so naive, Amaya," she continued, her voice laced with disdain. "You think you can reason with me? That I'll suddenly see the light and become some kind of hero? Don't be ridiculous" She leaned in closer, her breath hot on my cheek. "We both want you to suffer. He may have started the game, but he's only just getting warmed up."

Her words were a revelation. She wasn't some brainwashed follower, blindly loyal to Ivan. She had her own agenda, her own reasons for wanting revenge. A sliver of hope pierced through the despair. If I could appeal to that, maybe there was a way

out.

But how? I stole a glance at the ropes that bound me, the coarse fibers digging into my wrists. They were thick, impossible to break with my bare hands. But maybe if I could keep her talking long enough... My eyes darted to the metal chair I was strapped to. The cold, hard surface pressed against my back. An idea, a desperate gamble, sparked in my mind. It was risky, reckless even, but it was the only shot I had. If I could just rub the ropes against the rough edges, maybe, just maybe, I could fray them enough to break free.

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"You're right, Miranda, said, my voice carefully measured. "Maybe I wasn't the perfect picture of a loyal mate. But none of that justifies what Ivan is doing. He's playing a twisted game, using all of us as pawns for his own sick revenge."

"Revenge?" she scoffed. "Don't insult me with your cheap theatrics. Ivan's doing what needs to be done. Alex's father destroyed our life, took everything from us. He deserves to suffer and everyone in his bloodline.

"But what about you, Miranda?" I pressed, pushing my voice a little further. "Are you content to be his pawn in this game? To watch him destroy lives, innocent lives, just to satisfy some twisted sense of justice?"

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. I pushed on, gambling on the possibility that this woman, beneath the hardened exterior, wasn't completely lost.

"Think about it," I continued, my voice gaining a touch of urgency. "Once Alex is gone, once his pack is broken, what happens then? Does Ivan stop? Does he suddenly find peace? Or does he move on to the next target, the next person who wronged him, real or perceived? What if it ends up being you?"

The silence that followed was heavy, pregnant with unspoken possibilities. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, mirroring the relentless rasp of the frayed rope against the metal. Each rasp was a tiny victory, a sliver of hope slowly growing stronger.

Suddenly, Miranda's voice cut through the tense silence, sharp and laced with a dangerous edge. "Shut up!" she screamed, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the room.

Her sudden outburst startled me, but I refused to let it break me This was it. The moment of truth. With a surge of adrenaline, I redoubled my efforts, frantically rubbing the ropes against the metal chair. The fibers were starting to give way, fraying at the edges. Just a little more, I pleaded silently, just a little more.

As if sensing my desperation, Miranda lunged forward, grabbing the gun from the table. A cruel smile twisted her lips."You aren't even worth the effort," she spat, aiming the gun directly at my chest.

The world seemed to slow down, every detail etched into my memory with horrifying clarity. The glint of metal in the dim light, the cold terror gripping my heart, the desperate rasp of the frayed rope against the chair.

In that split second, time stretched into an eternity. The first bullet left the chamber, a tiny puff of smoke marking its path, My body lurched back instinctively, a scream rising from my throat.

But then, something unexpected happened. A flash of black fur materialized between me and the bullet. My eyes widened in disbelief as the bullet pierced its thick fur, and in an instant, the black fur rippled and dissolved, revealing a human form crashing to the floor.

"Alex!" I screamed, rushing over to his side.

Miranda's face contorted in a mask of rage, the gun now pointed at my head. "Don't move!" she yelled, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear.

Fueled by a primal surge of protectiveness, I ignored her command. My wolf, awakened by the threat to her mate, roared to life. Strength I didn't know I possessed coursed through my veins, pushing aside the weakness of the wolfsbane lingering in my system.

With a powerful lunge, I tackled Miranda to the ground. The gun clattered away, skidding across the cold stone floor. Adrenaline coursed through me, granting me a superhuman strength I had never experienced before. With a single, powerful punch, I landed a blow square on her jaw, sending her head snapping back and knocking her unconscious.

Relief flooded me, a sweet wave washing over the terror and desperation that had gripped me moments before. But it was short-lived. My gaze darted to Alex, sprawled on the cold floor, a crimson stain blooming on his chest where the bullet had pierced him.

"No, no, I cried, collapsing beside him and placing a trembling Hand on his chest. His breathing was shallow, raspy gasps that tore at my heart. A strained smile flickered on his lips for a brief moment.

"Don't cry, Silver," he rasped his voice weak. "I don't... deserve it.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. I tried to lift him, but the movement elicited a cough that wracked his body, a fresh spurt of blood staining his shirt.

"It's okay," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. "Silver... it's okay."

But it wasn't okay. The reality of the situation slammed into me, cold and merciless. He was bleeding out, and I was helpless to stop it. My mind raced, searching for a solution, any solution, but there was none. All I could do was hold him close, my touch a small comfort against the encroaching darkness.

"Please..." I choked out, the word a desperate plea to the goddess, to anyone who might be listening. "Please hold on. Hold on, I'm going to get help."

He coughed again, a weak, rattling sound. "What gender... are they?" His voice was barely audible, but I managed to hear him. The fact that he knew about them, was even asking about the twins, a question completely unrelated to the immediate danger, didn't register in my mind at the moment.

"A boy and a girl," I whispered back, my voice thick with tears.

"Ivy?" He coughed again, the sound weak and wet.

I choked back a sob, nodding my head. "Ivy."

A faint smile touched his lips, his eyelids fluttering shut for a moment, then opening again with a struggle. "Green," he murmured, "It's my favorite color... because you love it... and I..." Another cough erupted,racking his body. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"And I love you, Silver," he finished, the words slurred but filled with a love that transcended everything else.

My heart shattered. The world seemed to shrink in on itself, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the deafening silence of his fading heartbeat. I watched in horror as the light in his eyes flickered and dimmed.

Then, with a final, shallow gasp, his chest fell still. The life force that had burned so brightly within him extinguished, leaving behind a terrifying emptiness and...

He was just gone.