Luna On The Run - I Stole The Alphas Son

Chapter 46-Axton POV

My head is spinning as my eyes flutter open to stare at the

ceiling. My hand reaches across the bed, feeling for Elena; / vaguely remember her coming to sleep in here last night. Yet, where I thought she would be is bare, the space cold. Rubbing my eyes, I sit up, glancing toward the bathroom door, wondering if she went to take a shower.

My mouth was dry, my eyes throbbing along with the pulsating of my head. “Elena?” I call out, rubbing my temples before eyeing the bottle of water on the bedside table. Relief floods me, and I snatch it, twisting the cap and downing the entire bottle. I drank far too much last night, so much sol barely remember the dinner itself. The night was now hazy, yet my desire for her was strong.

Setting the bottle down, I wander to the bathroom, feeling Khan awaken. His energy I have barely felt over the last week, and I feel relief at having him pressing forward as I take a leak.

I feel empty without my wolf, like a piece of me is missing, a piece I finally have back.

I never got this

better. “Are you going to lock me away?” Khan asks hesitantly as I grab some

pill bottle, but I shake my head, and he sighs. “And Elena?” he asks,

or maybe she went back to her own room,”

a natural,” he seems happy, chuffed even at the thought, and I move toward the door. “I am going to see if she wants to go out to lunch with

he would get slivers of what had been going on, but other than that, he had been completely blocked out,

make it up to her if we want to give this a real shot,” I tell him, finally coming to terms with the idea. Nothing felt better than having her by my side last night. She would make a good Luna and, no doubt, a good mother. Eli has

a domino effect, the pieces falling randomly and ruining everything I had spent so long to build. I ruined her, and the look on her face since the day I told her she was gone once our twins

don‘t find her, so I wander to the kitchen and stop in my tracks. Dishes are still in the sink, and

did almost religiously was clean the kitchen; my eyes roam around the living room as I walk into it before falling on the picture frame leaning against the wall. My brows furrow, thinking it odd as I glance at the wall where it should be. The hangover made me

my brain seems to catch on. The frame slips from my fingertips, the glass shattering at my feet as I rip the safe door open, to find it completely empty except for one piece of