Alphas' Proud Mate novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Everything hurts.

My head feels like it’s been cracked open. I groan, low and hoarse, the sound scraping up my throat like it’s crawling through broken glass.

For a second, I wonder if I’m dead. Maybe this is it. Maybe I didn’t survive after all the shit Jack’s uncle pumped into me–needle after needle, poison after poison. Maybe I finally crossed the line between life and whatever the hell comes after.

But then the pain slams harder, and I realise–no, I’m still here. Still breathing.

Barely.

I try to move, but my body doesn’t respond. I can’t feel anything. Not my limbs or my wolf.

And that… that’s the worst part.

“Where are you?” I whisper in my head, clawing at the space where she’s always been–warm, fierce, strong. “Please… say something”

Nothing.

Just… silence. Terrifying. Like screaming into a void and hearing it eat your voice.

Panic wraps cold fingers around my ribs. I try again, harder, calling out with everything I have.

Still nothing.

My eyes snap open, bracing for the blinding light like before–that horrible brightness that burns even with closed eyelids.

But this time, there’s none of that. Just soft torchlight, flickering and warm, casting golden shadows. I blink slowly, relief washing over me like a breath I

didn’t know I was holding.

Thank the goddess…

I lift my gaze, trying to piece together where the hell I am. My vision is blurry at first, but as it clears, my heart nearly stops.

I’m in some kind of massive hall–easily the biggest room I’ve ever seen in my life. The floors are polished marble, the ceilings stretch so high it feels like they touch the stars, and thick red banners hang down the walls, each bearing a golden royal crest. Everything glints–gold trim, and the arms of the sconces carved with wolves mid–howl. It’s beautiful.

Terrifyingly beautiful.

And somehow… familiar?

I frown as a chill slips down my spine.

Why does this place feel like I’ve been here before? Like a dream I half–remember but can’t let go of.

I try to chase the thought-

But my head suddenly pounds so hard. I hiss and wince, biting down on a groan. The pain is sharp–like claws raking the inside of my skull. Images flash behind my eyes. Nothing clear. Just fragments. The feeling of something heavy on my chest–like a memory trying to force itself to the surface.

But it slips away, leaving nothing but a crushing headache and the metallic taste of frustration on my tongue.

I glance down.

I’m chained. Not to a chair this time, but my wrists are bound with silver chains–tight, burning, cruel. My ankles too, though more loosely. They probably

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17:43 Mon, 23 Jun G GO

Chapter 72

assumed I’m too weak to fight.

They were right.

I feel… almost human.

My wolf is gone. Or silenced. And without her, I’m little more than a breathing shell,

I tug at the chains anyway, teeth gritted. “Damn it,” I whisper. “Come on… move, do something…”

The silver sears into my skin. I cry out, breath hitching, then slump back against the stone column behind me, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps.

No one’s coming. Jack… isn’t coming.

I hate that thought more than anything.

My eyes lift again, dragging across the room… and then they land on something that knocks the air right out of my lungs.

At the far end of the hall, raised high above the floor, sits a massive platform–and on it, three thrones.

My mouth goes dry.

The middle throne is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Made of black iron, towering, cold, powerful. Etched with moons, wolves, and ancient symbols! can’t even read. Even empty, it radiates authority. Darkness. Strength. That throne belongs to someone who doesn’t ask for power–they are power.

It has to belong to the Alpha King.

Lady Celestia’s father.

He’s not even here, and still… his energy hums around the room, pressing into my chest like a weighted blanket. Oddly enough, it’s not scary.

It’s… comforting.

And that makes my skin crawl.

Why would his energy–his power–someone I’ve never met–comfort me?

My eyes shift to the throne on the right–smaller but elegant, carved with roses and feathers, probably belonging to the queen. But there’s something strange about it. I can’t look away. My heart starts to ache. My throat burns. And then-

A tear slips down my cheek.

I blink, stunned.

What the hell?

Why am I crying?

I don’t even know. The emotion just hits me out of nowhere. Like something deep inside is mourning. Grieving. I don’t get it.

I wipe it away with the back of my hand, shaky and confused.

Finally, I drag my eyes to the last throne–on the King’s left.

It’s smaller, less grand, but still regal. Designed for someone important. Someone not yet fully in power… but meant to be.

And as soon as I look at it-

I gasp softly.

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What does it want?

I let out a soft, breathless chuckle.

“Awake at last,” she sings, stopping beside me with a smirk stretched across her face like it was painted on. “Perfect timing. My daddy will be here soon… to deliver your death sentence.”

I try to hold her gaze, try to look strong. But my fingers twitch against the burning silver, and I know she sees it. I can’t hide the flicker of fear that flashes in my eyes.

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“You know, earlier–back in my daddy’s office… Jack was there.”

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