All Chapters of Claimed by the Ruthless Wolf Slayer: Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

ALEXANDERThe council was already seated when I arrived. Three ancient Lycans who’d been advising Alphas since before I was born. Alpha Gregg, severe and sharp eyed. Alpha Timothy, who’d mentored my father. And Alpha Isles, the youngest of the three at merely five centuries old.“Alexander,” Gregg said, not bothering with pleasantries. “We need to talk about your recent… difficulties.”I took my seat behind the desk, projecting calm authority even though I wanted to throw them all out. “If you’re referring to Claude’s betrayal, it’s been handled. He and his mother are dead. The threat is eliminated.”“Is it?” Timothy leaned forward. “Because from where we’re sitting, it looks like you were so close to your Beta that you missed all the signs of his treachery. How many others in your inner circle might be compromised?”“There are no others—”“How do you know?” Isles interrupted, her tone gentler but no less pointed. “Alexander, you trusted Claude with everything. He had access to your h

ALINAI woke from my nap to find a note on the bedside table.‘Shielding session with Ayda at 7pm. I’ll be there with you. - A’The message was short. It felt impersonal, like he was scheduling a business meeting instead of reaching out to his pregnant mate. But at least he was going to be there. That was something, I guess.I sat up slowly, my back protesting the movement. The twins were awake too, squirming around like they were trying to rearrange my internal organs. At thirty weeks, they were running out of room, and I was running out of patience.“Easy,” I muttered, rubbing the spot where what felt like an elbow was jabbing my ribs. “We’ve still got ten weeks of this. Let’s try to coexist peacefully, okay?”A kick in response. Of course.Rory knocked and entered without waiting for permission, something she’d started doing after I’d told her I was too tired to keep saying “come in” every five minutes.“You look better,” she said, setting down a tray with tea and some kind of past

ALEXANDERI woke before dawn with Alina still nestled against me, her breathing steady and even. One of my hands had migrated to her belly during the night, and I could feel the occasional flutter of movement from the twins.Our children. It felt surreal to think that this was really happening.My heart fluttered, different thoughts of how horribly wrong things could go came to the forefront of my mind. I repeated the same words I've been saying to myself. The same thing Alina had said to me. We’ll be fine. They will be fine too. By the time my breathing steadied, most of the nerves were gone. It felt less like a crushing weight and more like something I could carry.Alina stirred, making a small sound of discomfort. I immediately shifted, trying to ease whatever was bothering her.“Your son,” she mumbled, still half asleep, “is using my bladder as a punching bag.”I couldn’t help but smile. “How do you know it’s the boy?”“Because your daughter is currently wedged under my ribs. They

ALINAThe days passed in a strange blur of routine and anticipation.I spent my mornings doing Luna duties which mostly included mediating disputes, reviewing pack business, learning the intricate web of alliances and obligations that came with the position. My afternoons were for rest, which Dr. Sarah insisted on with increasing firmness as I approached thirty-four weeks.“Twins often come early,” she reminded me during my weekly checkup. “Your body is working twice as hard. You need to conserve energy.”“I’m resting,” I protested, even though I’d spent the previous afternoon reorganizing the nursery for the third time.“Resting means lying down. Not standing for hours arranging baby clothes by color.” Dr. Sarah gave me a look that said she knew exactly what I’d been doing. “Alina, I’m serious. Bed rest, starting now. No more than an hour on your feet at a time.”“But—”“No buts. Unless you want me to admit you to the medical wing?”That threat was enough to make me comply.Evenings

ALINA The first day without Alexander was long but manageable. Rory checked on me religiously, bringing meals and gossip and distraction. Dr. Sarah’s examinations showed everything was stable, the babies’ heartbeats strong and steady. I had no cramping and little to no contractions. By the second day, I was going stir-crazy. “I can’t just lie here for three more days,” I told Rory when she brought lunch. “I’m going to lose my mind.” “Would you rather go into early labor?” she cocked her brow, her tone matter of fact. “Obviously not, but there has to be a middle ground between bed rest and insanity.”