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CHAPTER 176: Then What?
Last Updated:
2025-08-27 08:57:29
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Claimed By My Stepbrother CHAPTER 177: Home
He smiled. A strange, almost wistful smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Then he did something I didn’t expect—he pressed both hands against his face, like he was trying to hold himself together. His shoulders shook once, and when he lowered his hands, that’s when I saw it. Tears. Actual tears shining in his eyes. And then he whispered, voice cracking in a way that shattered the air between us: “Goddess… you grew up to look just like your mother.” “Got her temper too,” he added with a soft chuckle. The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I blinked, hard, because what? My mouth moved before my brain even caught up. One word slipped out of me, shaky, small, like it had been hiding in my throat my whole life waiting for this exact moment. “Dad?” The silence that followed was suffocating. I didn’t even realize I was crying until the wetness blurred my vision. My cheeks burned hot, my chest squeezed so tight I thought I might stop breathing. My father. My father. Th
Claimed By My Stepbrother CHAPTER 176: Then What?
I tried the food. Honestly? I didn’t expect much, but damn—it was good. Sweet, soft, rich in a way I couldn’t quite place. Not like anything I’d eaten back home or even in Ethan’s pack. My stomach had been gnawing at itself for hours, so I didn’t waste time overthinking it. I just ate. Bite after bite, shoveling spoonfuls like someone who hadn’t seen food in days, because, well, I kinda hadn’t. I didn’t stop until my belly felt heavy and warm, the ache inside of me finally easing. It was… comforting in a way I hadn’t felt since everything had gone upside down. Comforting enough that my eyelids felt like weights. I curled up on the ridiculously soft bed, pressing my face into the pillow that smelled faintly of something spiced. I must have drifted off faster than I thought, because the next thing I knew, I was in that hazy, unsettling space where dreams feel real enough to cut. Ethan’s voice. I could hear it echoing faintly, calling my name through some kind of fog. “Camila!”
Claimed By My Stepbrother CHAPTER 175: But Damn it…
Sylthara. The word dropped into my ears like a stone into still water, and the ripples it caused inside me were nothing short of disorienting. Sylthara? What the hell was Sylthara? I rolled the name around in my head like maybe if I pressed hard enough it would spark some recognition—but no. Nothing. Not a single memory, not even a rumor. I shut my mouth, swallowing the thousand questions that crowded my throat. I wasn’t sure I wanted the answers right now. Sometimes not knowing is safer than hearing the truth too soon. He didn’t offer anything else. Instead, he adjusted me in his arms like I was both fragile glass and a burden he couldn’t drop. His face was hard to read, the kind of expression that didn’t invite conversation. So I stayed quiet, letting him carry me down the corridor. The hallways were… different. That was the only word I had. The walls weren’t like the wood and stone of the pack’s village. They shined faintly in the light of lanterns, almost iridescent. Th
Claimed By My Stepbrother CHAPTER 174: Sylthara
My wrists stung from the tight ropes digging into my skin, and my mouth was dry. My head throbbed faintly, each pulse making the world tilt. The smell in the air was damp, like stone walls and sweat and old wood. Then, out of nowhere, the sound of a door creaking open cut through the silence. Light—blinding and merciless—spilled into the darkness where I was kept, and I flinched hard, squeezing my eyes shut against the sudden brightness. It felt like knives stabbing straight through my eyelids. And then came the voice. Loud and furious. “What the fuck did you do?” It wasn’t aimed at me. It was aimed at whoever was inside here with me. I forced my eyes open, squinting, and caught sight of a figure leaning in the shadows not too far from me. The man’s shoulders jerked like he hadn’t expected to be confronted either. “What?” he barked back, voice defensive. “Why the hell did you keep her here?” the angry voice growled. The figure beside me shifted, stepping slightly into the dim
Claimed By My Stepbrother CHAPTER 173: Hello?
I was leaning against the little dresser, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror, when a knock came. At first, I thought I imagined it. Just a dull thump against the wooden door. Too soft, too unexpected. So, when the second knock came, sharper this time, I felt my whole body stiffen. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. “Ethan?” I called out, trying to sound normal, but my voice came out too thin, almost shaky. No answer. My stomach dropped. I tried again, louder this time. “Ethan? Is that you?” Still nothing. I took a step back from the door, my heartbeat racing so fast I could feel it thudding in my ears. My palms were already sweaty, and I rubbed them against my dress like that would help. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Who’s there?” Nothing. I swear the quiet was worse than if someone had answered with a threat. At least then I would’ve known what I was dealing with. I took another step back, then another, until my calves brushed against the edge of th
Claimed By My Stepbrother CHAPTER 172: Why It Hurt More
Ethan chuckled, that deep rumble in his chest making me both irritated and flustered at the same time. “Pancakes?” he repeated, eyebrows raising like I’d just told him I wanted diamonds for breakfast. “Sweetheart, this isn’t the cabin kitchen. There’s no flour, no milk, and definitely no maple syrup lying around here.” I tried to pout but ended up laughing a little despite myself. “So what? You’re saying Knoxl doesn’t do breakfast food? What kind of hell is this?” He smirked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “The kind where people survive on roasted meat, stew, and bread. If you’re craving pancakes, you’re about three villages too far from civilization.” I rolled my eyes, hugging my knees against my chest while still sitting on the bed. But under the joking, I couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that sat heavy in my stomach. Not just about pancakes. About… us. About how he touched me like he wanted me but always stopped before it became anything more. Like he
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