The Alpha's Unwanted Bride novel Chapter 460

Chapter 460: ESCAPE

The stone beneath Xaden’s back had long gone from cold to numb. Pain wasn’t sharp anymore.

it pulsed like a dull drumbeat in the marrow of his bones. Each breath scraped his lungs, his body on the verge of surrender. He knew he didn’t have much time left.

Days. Maybe hours.

His ribs were cracked, his lips split and bleeding. Hunger gnawed at his insides like a beast with teeth. He had faded into something thin and almost ghost-like, but not gone. Not yet.

Not until he tried.

Tonight, something was different. He had known it the moment the guards changed shifts earlier than usual.

One had grumbled about the Alpha being summoned for some urgent meeting beyond the eastern watch. Fewer patrols. Fewer eyes.

He wasn’t strong. But strength wasn’t what kept him alive.

It was something else.

A thread pulled taut beneath his chest. Something invisible. Familiar. Real.

Zayden opened his eyes to blackness. The air was thick with mildew and iron, the scent of dried blood crusted into the stones. He pushed himself upright slowly, biting down on a groan that clawed its way up his throat.

He reached toward the wall where he’d hidden it—a rusted shard of iron from the broken bench they’d once chained him to. The metal bit into his palm as he gripped it, his knuckles whitening.

One breath.

Two.

He dragged himself to the cell door and jammed the shard into the lock, trembling hands slick with sweat. It wasn’t finesse—it was desperation.

Click.

The door creaked open. Every sound echoed down the corridor like a shout. But no guards came.

He stepped into the hall, hugging the shadows, each step agony. He limped through the dungeons like a ghost, pressing against the stone to avoid the orange glow of torches. He ducked behind broken barrels, darted through arches like a whisper.

He passed rooms with chains. Places where others had screamed. And then...

That feeling again.

It slammed into his chest like a jolt of heat. He stopped mid-step, gasping for air.

It wasn’t just a pull—it was Jasmine.

A flicker of warmth. The memory of her scent. Her voice in the corner of his mind, whispering his name.

He clutched his chest.

No. No, it couldn’t be. Jasmine was safe. Far away. She was back home. The pack would have hidden her by now. Protected her. This place—this hell—she could never be here.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

This was a hallucination. His dying mind teasing him with comfort it could no longer provide.

And yet...

He couldn’t stop the tears that welled in his lashes.

"Keep moving," he hissed.

Up two flights of stone steps. His legs shook, but adrenaline powered him forward. Every breath burned, but freedom—freedom was close.

He reached the east courtyard gate. It was unlocked. Left open.

Someone had been careless.

He limped through, and for the first time in weeks—fresh, biting air hit his face. Trees rustled in the distance. The howl of a wolf echoed far off, and Zayden felt the sting of it in his bones.

But something made him stop.

A whisper of movement. A glimmer of light from the tower above.

He looked up.

And saw her.

A silhouette in the window. A woman with her hands pressed to the glass, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. The moonlight caught her face for just a second.

It was her. It was—

"Jasmine?" he whispered, stunned.

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. For one glorious, horrible moment, he believed it.

She was here.

She had come.

But then...

Reality clawed back. He blinked, and the image wavered.

No. He was delirious. Dying men saw what they loved most.

That wasn’t her.

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