11. Strip

Panic, cold and sharp, flooded Rosalie’s veins. She looked toward the terrace; it was hours past midnight, the deepest, deadest part of the night. Why was he calling for her now? The echoes of their encounter from the night before still hummed beneath her skin, a relentless reminder of his brutal intensity.

<

Continue to read this book for free

Scan code to download App

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Locked Chapter

Comments (5)

ahnkitomi

I mean it's literally already happened in the story it haopened their first night

ahnkitomi

girl......what a POS. not that it would have been okay otherwise but you know for a fact she's been abused and youre compounding it, cementing yourself as just a successor to her sister and Cassian's cruelty

Lulu

plzz no grapee

level darcy

love ... love love... pls double update

K_Mikaelson

please one more update dear author I'm loving this, Thankyou for the update, can't wait for next aaaaahhhhh......

VIEW ALL COMMENTS

Latest chapter

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   116. The Unravel

  The thick, gray fog of the Whispering Crags seemed to roll down the mountain alongside them, clinging to the heavy cloaks of Killian and Alam as they escorted Morana through the gates of the Amber Court. The witch moved with silent, ghostly speed, her dark woolen robes rustling like dry raven wings against the damp cobblestones. Beneath her deep hood, her milky-white eyes were fixed on the looming stone spires above, a faint, mocking smile playing upon her withered lips.As they reached the heavy double doors of the inner keep, the guards on duty immediately drew their steel, their boots scraping back against the marble in absolute terror. They knew the legends of the Witch of the Crags, a creature of dark magic and ancient blood-craft whose very name was whispered to frighten young pups into obedience.Garrett was already waiting in the archway, his hand resting tightly on the pommel o

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   115. The Fog of the Whispering Crags

  The morning mist hung over the Northern valley like a heavy, suffocating shroud, dampening the sound of hooves striking cold river stone. High above, the jagged black peaks of the Whispering Crags clawed at a pale, sunless sky, marking the treacherous boundary where the wolf territories bled into the ancient, untamed Southern wildlands.Killian pulled the hood of his dark leather cloak lower over his brow, his golden-brown eyes sharply scanning the dense thicket of pines framing the narrow mountain pass. Beside him, Alam rode with silent, fluid posture, his hand resting comfortably on the hilt of his curved blade. Both horses snorted softly, their white breath plumes mingling with the frigid mountain air."We are off the official court maps now," Killian said quietly, his raspy voice barely carrying over the distant howl of the mountain wind. "The King’s authority ends at the riverbed. P

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   114. The Seer's Path

  The silence inside the King’s private war study was heavy and absolute.The morning sun had fully cleared the horizon, casting long beams of pale yellow light through the balcony windows, illuminating the quiet dust motes dancing in the air. Samantha’s body had been quietly removed by Garrett’s most trusted lieutenants, leaving only the dark mahogany desk, the cold hearth, and the suffocating weight of an unsolved conspiracy.Dominic stood by the glass, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. His bandaged chest throbbed with a dull ache, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the clawing, violent frustration burning inside him.Garrett paced near the cold hearth, his face etched with deep lines of exhaustion. Killian leaned against the heavy oak doorframe, his sharp, golden-brown eyes fixed on the floorboards, while Alam s

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   113. The Serpent’s Canvas

  A collective gasp rippled through the gathered ranks, but not a single warrior dared disobey the command of the Alpha King. The synchronized sound of iron breastplates clanking, heavy leather pauldrons tearing free, and steel buckles snapping open echoed up into the vaulted stone ceilings like a barrage of distant thunder. Within moments, nearly two hundred elite guards had stripped away their protective outer armor, standing in thin gray linen tunics and bare, exposed chests under the pale morning light filtering through the high stained glass.Dominic descended the stone steps of the dais with slow, deliberate authority, flanked closely by Garrett, Alam, and Killian. Their gazes were cold and predatory, scanning every throat, every shoulder, every wrist, and every inch of bare skin for the violent, bloody gouges Samantha had left behind in her dying moments.

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   112. The Painted Wolves

  The heavy oak doors of the King’s private war study were bolted shut from the inside, the thick iron latches dropping into place with a hollow, echoing thud. Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating, thick with the stench of dried blood, low-burning candles, and an explosive, predatory tension that rattled the leaded glass windows.Dominic stood before the cold stone hearth, his massive, broad shoulders squared and his bandaged chest heaving with dark, suppressed rage. Beside him, Alam stood with his sharp eyes fixed on

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   111. The Traitor's Mark

  The first pale, silvery light of dawn was beginning to bleed through the arched stained-glass windows when Rosalie arrived in her private wing. The grand chamber was just as she had left it six months ago, the massive canopy bed draped in heavy dark velvet, the stone hearth crackling with a fresh, roaring fire, and the familiar scent of dark cedar and dried lavender filling the air.Shane and Griat took their positions outside the heavy oak doors, their steel blades drawn, creating an impenetrable barrier against the outside world.Yet, despite the softness of the silk sheets and the warmth of the hearth, sleep was an impossible luxury. Rosalie paced the length of the room, her hand resting over her protruding stomach, her mind spinning in violent circles. The image of Samantha’s bloodied body, the memory of the fake balcony vision, and the terrifying knowledge that a killer was wa

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   7. My Bride

  A wave of ice-cold dread clouded her very soul, freezing the blood in her veins. No... Her mind screamed as the realization hit her like a physical blow. Why did he want her dressed in the purest of silk

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   6. Scented Bathe

  Dominic dismounted the beast in one fluid, predatory movement. His massive hand wrapped around her arm, tugging her down with him. The moment her bare, bruised soles made contact with the freezing cobblestones of the courtyard, Rosalie's knees turned into compl

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   5. The Beast's Claim

  The thick, copper taste of Dominic Varkov’s blood coated Rosalie’s tongue, a metallic brand that felt like a permanent iron shackle around her soul. The ancient incantations chanted by the trembling High Priest still echoed in the freezing night air, vibrating

• Claimed By My Mate's Uncle   4. Forced Marriage

  The silence of the clearing was deafening. Thousands of eyes were pinned on Rosalie Ashford, but she only had eyes for Prince Cassian. There was so much pain in her teary eyes as she pleaded with her eyes, but he didn't offer her a single glance.The silver threads of the mate bond were still puls

More Chapters