Luna on The Run I Stole the Alphas Son

Chapter 155

Alpha On The Hunt Chapter 80

Elena POV

I groan as I come to, my head pounding to its own beat, and my limbs ache and feel heavy. “Elena! Psst…” I hear someone calling out my name, and I lift my head, turning it in his direction. The moment I move my head, blood trickles down my face from where Cane hit me. I squint. Even the dull lights down here are hurting my eyes. Peering over, I realize it is Soyer. My vision clears enough for me to see him still strapped to a chair not far from me, with a worried expression on his face.

“Can you slip out of your restraints?” he asks urgently while glancing over his shoulder and then past me in the other direction the tunnel travels. He inclines his head at me, motioning towards the metal cuffs that bind me to the chair.

“See if you can get out of your cuffs. Try to shift. You’re our only

chance,” he tells me, and my eyes dart to the floor where his mate lay. “Is she…”

for Lexa when pain courses through my stomach, making me scream. I double over in

of determination, I try to free myself from them, but they are too tight while calling for Lexa to wake up. Just when I thought all hope was lost, one of the cuffs suddenly snaps when Lexa shoves forward abruptly, feeling our mate, my entire body jerks forward, and we nearly fall face forward in the chair, my hand slapping the ground is the only thing that stops us. Lexa forces my arms and wrists to break, allowing my other wrist to slip free of the cuff. “Where is Axton?” she

tell her through gritted teeth as I fall on my side. My legs are still strapped, my legs are twisted awkwardly, and my claws slip

They’ve just got here. I finally opened the mind-link. They’re working on blocking the tunnel

crawl toward Soyer. “Where did Cane go?” I ask, and he looks at a camera mounted on the wall of the tunnel we

long until your pack finds us?”

I don’t know what tunnel we’re in,” he tells me, then nods toward the screens covering the walls. I turn to see cars racing into the council chambers while

them.

the distance, followed by shouts and yelling from somewhere deeper

crowbar over there,” Soyer says, nodding toward where a bench is filled with tools and miscellaneous crap. Staggering, I get to my feet, trying to find something, when pain rips through my side, making me clutch

me unable to focus. Grabbing the crowbar, I try to bend the metal arm of the chair he is strapped into. Then I try to pry it under the cuff. It doesn’t work. His hands are purple from how tight the handcuffs are that are cutting off his

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