All Chapters of My Stepbrother, My Alpha, My Man: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

SELENA I hadn’t spoken to Stephen since… that day. Every time I saw him, my pulse stumbled. So I avoided him at the academy, at home, even in my thoughts. But thoughts are traitors. They sneak in when you're weakest, whispering lies that feel like truths. I hated him. I hated how part of me still wanted him. "Selena!" Elizabeth’s voice rang out, muffled through the bathroom door. "You're running late! Don’t forget it’s the first day of summer training. Hurry up!" I blinked at my reflection in the mirror. Water dripped from my hair, trailing down my neck. My eyes looked haunted darker than they used to be. I pulled my towel tighter around myself, willing my thoughts to go quiet. Summer training. Every year, the Bloodfang Pack ran a full-month camp deep in the woods. And this year… I was finally allowed to go. Not because I earned it, but because Stephen dragged me back to the pack literally. I didn’t even know if Alpha Kingsley was aware I was going. My fingers tremble

SELENA“Stephen,” I whispered, voice trembling. “You’re hurting me.”But it was like I didn’t exist anymore not to him, not to Desmond. The two of them stood frozen, locked in a silent war. Their eyes glowed faintly gold, the telltale shimmer of wolves barely restrained. Desmond’s jaw ticked. Stephen’s nostrils flared as if he were sniffing for blood.Then Stephen’s hand slid lower, fingers curling around my waist. His claws, no longer fully retracted, punctured the fabric of my shirt and began digging into my skin. The sting made me gasp.“Stop.” I pressed my hands against his chest. “You’re losing control.”But his gaze had already shifted no longer human. They were golden and wild, filled with something primal. Something terrifying.I could feel his wolf was close. Too close.Pain flared in my side as his claws went deeper, and panic surged through me like ice water. I could see it unfolding already two powerful shifters clashing in the middle of camp. Blood. Teeth. Fury. And me, c

STEPHENSomething’s wrong with me.It started the moment we arrived at the camp yesterday. A tightness in my chest. A low hum of agitation in my veins. My control already thin during the full moon is splintering, but the moon hasn’t even risen yet.One more day. That’s all that’s left. But my wolf is clawing beneath my skin like it wants out now.And every time I get near her… near Selena… Kael, my wolf, loses it.I pace along the tree line bordering the camp, hands clenched into fists. My breath fogs slightly in the early morning air, heart pounding like I just finished a run. This isn’t normal. Not for me. Not for Kael.Why now?I close my eyes and try to center myself, but Kael snarls in my head, restless, irritated.“Kael,” I whisper through the bond. “What’s happening to you?”His growl rumbles back at me like thunder rolling over the mountains. “I don’t know,” he snaps. “But I’m not calm. I haven’t been since we got here.”“It’s not the moon,” I tell him. “You know that. This fe

SELENAHe doesn’t answer with words.Instead, he leans in, his lips brushing mine with a slowness that feels reverent.Soft. Controlled.Like a promise sealed beneath years of tension.The kiss deepens, and it’s nothing like the ones before those rough, possessive collisions that used to steal my breath.This... this is different.Gentle. Searching.His mouth moves over mine as if tasting a part of himself he thought he’d lost.A breath escapes me, sharp and unsure, as his body presses against mine.Then, close to my ear, his voice drops deep and husky.“I want you. Now.”My heart stutters. That’s new. Stephen doesn’t ask. He takes. That’s the way it’s always been.What’s happening?Before I can find the words, his mouth claims mine again but not like before.It’s not a conquest.It’s... worship.My lips tremble beneath his, and my body betrays me. Heat coils in my belly, and all at once, I’m aching for his touch like it’s oxygen.He drags his lips down the curve of my jaw to the side

SELENAStephen's eyes cut toward the tent flap like a blade sharp, cold, calculating. His body tenses beside me, the shift so subtle most wouldn’t catch it. But I do. It’s the way a soldier listens when the battlefield goes quiet... right before the bloodshed.And in that instant, I understand something bone-deep.I’m not the soldier. I’m not the prize. I’m the war.He’s angry. I see it now, rolling beneath his skin like thunderclouds barely held in check. His jaw tightens, his fists clench and unclench at his sides. Through the warped reflection in the tent’s polished mirror, I watch him. Watch the storm building.I whisper, barely able to form the words. “Stephen… talk to me. Tell me what’s happening. What should I be afraid of?”His breath is slow, heavy, like it’s carrying the weight of generations. He doesn’t look at me at first just stares into the mirror, as if trying to see through time itself.Finally, his voice cracks the silence. “There’s a story,” he says, low and quiet