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Chapter 76
Last Updated:
2025-07-08 13:46:50
Latest chapter
Mated To My Stepbrother Chapter 78
Novah’s POV The rain didn’t stop. It became the world. A relentless, grey curtain hammering the canopy above Ashton, soaking through the heavy waxed duster until it clung like a second, icy skin. He moved through the woods east of the estate, a relentless, crashing force against the storm. Branches whipped his face, leaving stinging welts he barely registered. Mud sucked at his boots with each heavy step."**NOVAH!**"His roar tore through the drumming rain, raw and desperate, echoing off the ancient pines only to be swallowed by the wind. He strained his senses past their limits, pushing through the olfactory chaos of wet earth, decaying leaves, and pine resin. He hunted for that fragile thread – vanilla and ozone, the unique signature of her fear. Nothing. Just the oppressive, damp void where her scent should have been."**ANSWER ME! NOVAH!**"Silence answered, thick and accusing. Each unanswered call was a hammer blow to the fragile casing around his panic. The carefully construct
Mated To My Stepbrother Chapter 77
Ashton’s POV“She… she was in her room, sir,” Meredith stammered, eyes wide with fear. “I brought soup earlier… she didn’t answer, but I thought… she was resting…”“The door’s locked!” Ashton snapped. He didn’t wait. Stepping back, he braced himself and slammed his shoulder into the wood just beside the lock. Once. Twice. The frame splintered with a sickening crack on the third impact, and the door swung violently inward.The room hit him like a physical blow. Cold. Empty. Impossibly still. Rain streaked the window, casting shifting grey light on the untouched bed. The soup bowl sat on the desk, the contents congealed, greasy, and cold. A school textbook lay open, pages pristine. But Novah… Novah was gone. The air held only the faint, fading scent of her shampoo and the sharp tang of fear.The world tilted. The carefully constructed wall inside him cracked, then crumbled. The cold stone of unease exploded into white-hot panic. *Gone.* She was gone. His breath hitched, a ragged sound i
Mated To My Stepbrother Chapter 76
Ashton's POVThe conservatory windows wept rivulets, blurring the skeletal trees beyond into grey smears. Rain lashed the glass, a relentless percussion against the unnatural quiet of the mansion. Ashton stood with his back to the room, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark jeans, knuckles clenched tight enough to ache. The phantom scent of rain-drenched earth and something uniquely *Novah* – vanilla and ozone, maybe, or just desperation – clung stubbornly to his senses despite the closed doors.*“Go to your room, Novah. Stay out of sight. Let the storm pass.”*His own words echoed back, hollow and cruel even in memory. Necessary. It had been necessary. The pack’s psychic hum, a low thrum of judgment and suspicion vibrating through the polished floorboards, had demanded it. Loveth’s triumph, Camilia’s tight-lipped disapproval, the elders’ watchful silence – all of it a cage stronger than iron. Letting Novah stay visible, vulnerable, after that damned video… it would have been
Mated To My Stepbrother Chapter 75
Novah's POVRain. It was always rain. It lashed the windows of the conservatory, blurring Ashton’s turned back into a smudge of grey indifference. His words – *"Go to your room, Novah. Stay out of sight. Let the storm pass."* – weren’t just dismissal. They were a death sentence. A verdict passed by the pack, delivered by the one person whose warmth, however fleeting, had felt like oxygen.The numbness that followed was thick, syrupy. It didn’t erase the pain, just muffled its screams. It wrapped around my thoughts, making them slow, sluggish, like wading through frozen mud. *Omega. Weak. Shallow. Problem.* The pack’s psychic hum vibrated through the very stones of the mansion, a relentless drone of condemnation. *Drugged slut. Stalker. Disgrace.* It wasn't just whispers anymore; it was the air I choked on.My room. My gilded cage. Meredith had left soup. It sat cold on the desk, congealing. The smell turned my stomach. School. My final project. The intricate molecular model I’d spent
Mated To My Stepbrother Chapter 74
Novah’s POV The walk upstairs was a gauntlet. Every servant we passed averted their eyes, but I felt their stares like physical touches. Whispers rustled in our wake, snippets carried on the pack’s psychic undercurrent: *“…drugged slut…” “…throwing herself at both of them…” “…poor Alpha Thorne…” “…disgrace to the pack…”* My omega senses, usually dulled by suppression, screamed with the collective condemnation. I was pack, yet utterly alone. An omega drowning in the tide of their contempt.My room, once a sanctuary, felt like a cell. Camilia lingered awkwardly."Novah…" she began, wringing her hands. "This… the video, the picture… it’s everywhere. Pack channels, human social media… Loveth made sure of it.""Loveth," I repeated dully. Of course."Ashton…" Camilia hesitated, her eyes filled with a complex mix of sympathy and warning. "He’s trying to contain it. But the damage… the Alpha is furious with him too. For interfering. For causing a scene with Nick." She took a shaky breath. "I
Mated To My Stepbrother Chapter 73
Novah’s POV The cabin’s warmth had been a lie.The fire’s embers were cold ash when I woke, curled under the thick wool blanket Ashton had tucked around me. The space beside the couch where he’d knelt, where his eyes had held something terrifyingly close to *promise*, was empty. Only the faint scent of pine and his unique, sharp alpha musk lingered, already fading."Rest," he’d said. "I’ll speak to Father."Hope. Brittle, stupid hope. It had unfurled in my chest like a poisoned flower during the night, fed by the broth, the crackling fire, the sheer, impossible relief of not being alone. For a few stolen hours, the crushing weight of being Novah Thorne – omega, burden, pawn – had lifted.Now, the silence screamed. The cabin felt like a stage after the actors had fled, leaving only the hollow set. I pushed myself up, muscles protesting, head still fuzzy at the edges from whatever Loveth had slipped into that sickly-sweet tea. The memory of Nick’s hands, his breath, the terrifying para
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