Claimed by My Bully Alpha (by Anna Kendra) novel Chapter 230

Chapter 230

Aurora’s POV

I sat curled up on the bed, my knees drawn tightly to my chest, eyes locked onto the skeleton in the glass case. My heart thudded in my chest, and yet the silence of the room felt suffocating. How could this be? The bones before me, the ones I assumed to be my mother’s, stared back at me, empty and cold.

The soft floral scent of carnations hung in the air, mixing with the mustiness of the room. The photos, all of her, lined the walls, frozen moments from a time that seemed far too distant now. My breath caught as I realized what I was staring at wasn’t just a tragic reminder of my mother’s death-it was a statement. Whoever had done this, whoever had gone through the effort to dig up her grave and put her remains on display, was far from sane.

The more I thought about it, the more the pieces fell together-too many unanswered questions, too many things that didn’t make sense. I could feel the gnawing sense of dread creeping up my spine, the familiar feeling that I had been avoiding for so long, but now it was undeniable. I had no clue who my biological father was, but I knew one thing for certain: he was the kind of person who could do this.

He wasn’t just some stranger to my mother’s past. No, he had to have been close to her, someone who might have been obsessed, twisted even. It was the only explanation that made sense-my father, if that’s even what he was, couldn’t have been anything but a monster. He must’ve been the one to hurt her, and I had been so blind, too focused on trying to find answers, to see the truth.

I thought back to the dreams-the ones where my mother’s voice echoed in my mind, telling me to run, to get away from him. Her warning had never made sense before, but now, everything clicked. She had known. She had known who he was, what he was capable of, and somehow, even from beyond the grave, she was still trying to protect me. I shuddered as the weight of it all hit me-my own father, whoever he was, had been a monster long before I ever even knew his name.

Unable to sit still any longer, I keep pacing in this damn room, my mind racing, heart pounding in my chest. If I don’t find a way out of here, I swear I’m going to lose it. I’ve tried to sit still, tried to think, but the longer I stay, the more my thoughts spiral. My only option is to get out, figure out where I am, and then maybe, just maybe, I can find a way to escape for good. I’m not an idiot, though. I know it won’t be that simple. I don’t even know what the hell is outside this room, how many people are watching me, or what kind of place this is.

My escape feels impossible, but I won’t give up. I have to get out of here. If I can just make it to the door and peek outside, I can assess the situation. Maybe there’s a window, maybe a hallway or an exit that I can exploit. I just need to get a good look at it all first. But then again, I can’t be stupid about it. If I rush out, I could end up walking straight into a trap. And I don’t need to make it any worse for myself.

I grip the edge of the bed, my mind racing through every possible scenario. There’s got to be a way. There has to be. My pulse pounds in my ears as I breathe in deeply, trying to calm myself, but my frustration only grows.

That’s when I hear it-the unmistakable sound of footsteps. They’re slow, methodical, and heavy. I freeze, every muscle tensing, as the door creaks open. My heart skips a beat. A man enters the room, tall, broad-shouldered, carrying a large box in his hands. His face is unreadable, and I can’t tell if he’s a threat or someone I might be able to use.

I don’t know if this is my chance or if it’s just another dead end. But something tells me that this moment is important, that I need to make a decision fast. My plan had been to get out of this room, but now with him here, I need to adjust. If I wait too long, I might miss my window. And that could be the difference between life and… whatever else they have planned for me.

I watched him from across the room, the way he stood there so composed, as though nothing could rattle him. He was handsome, sure-too handsome for someone his age, which was strange because he didn’t look old enough to be my father. But even though his features were sharp and defined, there was something about him that felt… off. I couldn’t place it, but it was like my senses were picking up on something beyond the ordinary. The air around him felt different, charged with a strange kind of energy that made me shiver despite the warm surroundings.

His eyes-those brilliant green eyes-were what really caught my attention. They gleamed in the light like something alive, too vibrant to be real. And somehow, they looked familiar, like I had seen them somewhere before, but I couldn’t remember when or where. My heart raced, and it wasn’t from any nervousness about the encounter, but from the pull his gaze seemed to have on me. It was as if he was calling to me in some way I didn’t understand. I had to know who he was, what was going on.

I took a deep breath and stepped closer, my voice trembling slightly when I spoke, “Who are you?” I had to ask, even though part of me already feared the answer. His smile never faltered, and his eyes softened for a moment before he spoke, his voice deep and calm, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

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