Todos os capítulos de Stuck Between Two Alphas: Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

Evelyn’s POVThe sky had melted into a deep, inky blue by the time we hit the strip, the glittering Nevada skyline flickering like a heartbeat in the distance. Streetlights painted gold lines on the blacktop as Christian drove, one hand lazily on the steering wheel, the other resting near the gear shift. We weren’t in any rush. The city itself was alive in a way that made you forget about time altogether.I leaned my head against the window, watching the world unfurl in streaks of neon and noise. Crowds had thickened along the sidewalks. Laughter swelled from alleys, music blared from rooftop bars, and street performers dressed as robots, Elvis impersonators, and superheroes worked their corners with ridiculous flair.A group of college kids huddled around a guitarist, harmonizing sloppily to some Beatles cover. Not far from them, a small jazz band played like the pavement was their stage and the moon their spotlight. I smiled to myself, warmth creeping up my neck as I turned to Chris

Evelyn’s POVI shot up in bed like someone had poured a bucket of ice water down my spine, my heart thudding hard against my ribcage. I wasn’t breathing right, it came in these sharp, panicky gulps like I’d just woken from a nightmare.Except… I didn’t have a nightmare. No dark dreams, no running, no blood or wolves. Just blank space.Silence.Then the pain hit.“Ugh,” I groaned, pressing the heel of my palm into my forehead. A throb pulsed right behind my eyes, pounding with every heartbeat. “Fuck me sideways…”My head felt like someone had used it as a drum set in a rock concert, and my mouth tasted like cotton mixed with regret.I stayed like that for a second, just holding my head and breathing through the pain, until it hit me.This is not my bed.The sheets were way too soft. The scent wasn’t familiar, and it wasn’t mine. It smelled like pine, leather, and something else that screamed power. It was clean, almost too clean. No clothes strewn around, no clutter.I blinked around s

EvelynA full nursery.And not just some half-assed arrangement either. It was perfect. Immaculate. Soft white walls with a delicate gray trim. A crib made of dark wood with a pale cream canopy draped overhead like a fairytale tent. A plush rocking chair sat in the corner, facing a huge window that let in just enough light to paint the floor gold. Shelves lined one wall, already stocked with picture books, tiny toys, and stuffed animals so soft I wanted to cry.And on the far wall… a framed drawing. Simple. Childlike.A wolf. A baby. A full moon.It was like the universe paused around me, holding its breath.I didn’t even realize I was touching my belly until I looked down. My hand was resting there, gentle, protective.My brain scrambled for explanations. Christian never said anything about this. This wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment thing. This room had been planned. Thought out. Loved into existence.And the lavender?It was coming from a small diffuser on a side table beside the cri

Evelyn’s POVI didn’t expect to feel anything for him. Not sympathy. Not guilt. And definitely not the ache blooming somewhere in my chest as I watched Christian sit there, staring blankly at the nursery wall like he wasn’t really seeing it.But I did. I felt sorry for him.He looked… human.No smug smirk. No cold dominance in his tone. No clever insult waiting to sting me. Just a man sitting in the quiet of a room he built for children that never came.I shifted my weight awkwardly, unsure of what to do with my hands or with myself. Should I say something? Comfort him? Hug him?God, no. Hugging Christian Blackwood was a one-way ticket to emotional disaster, and knowing my overactive imagination, the second my arms wrapped around that broad, muscled torso, I’d probably forget who I was. My intrusive thoughts would spiral into places I was desperately trying to avoid.Still, it didn’t feel right to just stand there like a statue while he drowned silently in his thoughts.So instead, I

EvelynI turned off the faucet. The silence in the bathroom was deafening now, just the slow drip-drip of water off my elbows as I stood motionless. The fog on the mirror had grown thick, like a white veil, and I wiped it away with the side of my hand.My reflection stared back, eyes darker than before. Not from the lighting.From the truth.From the sorrow I now understood better.I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out of the shower, but my mind never left that little boy who had to grow up too fast, who learned early that no one was coming to save him.That boy became Christian Blackwood.And for some reason, the thought made my heart ache more than I expected.--By the time I finally stepped out of the shower, the bathroom felt like a sauna, thick with steam clinging to the mirror and the walls. My skin was flushed, both from the heat and… well, not just the heat.I grabbed the soft towel hanging off the rack and wrapped it around my dripping hair, squeezing it gently, le