Lahat ng Kabanata ng Claimed By My Stepbrother : Kabanata 181 - Kabanata 190

For a moment, I thought my father was going to push me aside and lay his hands on Ethan himself. His posture shifted, his jaw locked, like he was deciding between pride and something softer. But then, instead of reaching for Ethan, he let out a sharp sigh, one that seemed to rattle through his chest like stones grinding together. “Bring the healer!” he barked over his shoulder. The guards jumped. None of them hesitated. Two of them sprinted toward the far end of the hall while the others lingered, their eyes darting uneasily between me, Ethan bleeding in my arms, and the Alpha standing like a storm barely contained. I didn’t care about them. My whole world had narrowed to the boy lying limp against me, his skin pale, lips cracked, blood soaking through the torn fabric I’d tried so desperately to bind him with. “Ethan,” I whispered again, brushing damp hair back from his forehead. His skin was clammy, hot and cold at once. I hated how weak his breathing sounded, how it rattled fai

I jerked back, smacking his hand with a sharp slap. My face went hot immediately. “Are you insane? You can barely sit properly!” He winced, but not from the slap. His grin was shameless, the kind of boyish grin that almost made me forgive him. “I’m fine.” “You’re not fine!” I shot back, glaring even though my cheeks burned. He tilted his head, giving me that wounded-puppy look. “But I miss you.” The words came out like a whine, half-playful but laced with want. I groaned, rubbing my forehead with both hands. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. I can’t believe I spent the whole night worried sick over your horny ass.” That broke him. He laughed. Loud, unrestrained, the kind of laugh that rumbled out of his chest and shook his shoulders even though it clearly hurt his side. I couldn’t hold the glare. The corners of my lips twitched, then cracked, and before I knew it, I was laughing right along with him. We laughed so hard our eyes watered. Every time we tried to stop, one of

Steady. Calm. Sleeping—that’s what I thought. But the second the door creaked, I froze. He wasn’t in bed. No, the bastard was sitting there like he’d been waiting for me the whole damn time. A hulking shadow in a wide chair near the hearth, posture relaxed but eyes sharp, like a predator who’d scented me before I even entered. “You finally came,” he said. His voice was deep, smooth, too damn calm for someone who should’ve been startled out of his sleep. My eyes flicked away from him, darting toward the massive bed across the room. That’s when I saw her—a girl curled beneath the heavy furs, chest rising and falling in soft, steady rhythm. Bait. My lip curled into a humorless smile. “Took you long enough,” he added, eyes never leaving me. “Well,” I drawled, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me with a soft click, “I was putting your daughter to sleep.” The glare he gave me could’ve cut stone. I chuckled low, leaning back against the door for a second just

As I walked through the hallway, my boots didn’t make a sound, not because I was trying especially hard, but because silence had become second nature to me. When you’ve survived as long as I have, you learn to move like a ghost—present but unseen. I exhaled slowly, rolling the tension out of my shoulders as I approached the room where I’d left Camila. My ribs ached, the faint throb of the injury I hadn’t fully healed still reminding me it was there, but it was background noise compared to the thoughts storming in my head. The alpha’s face when I mentioned his wife—gods, that look. I could still taste the fear radiating off him. But even that satisfaction dulled as I pushed the door open to Camila’s room and slipped inside. She was there. Curled up on the narrow bed, blanket around her legs, one arm tucked beneath her head. The faint light spilling through the shutters painted her in soft shadows. I shut the door behind me, quieter this time, and leaned against it for a moment, l

“Why…” Her voice wavered, and then broke completely. She pressed her hand to her chest, eyes shining with something wet. “Why did you leave?” The courtyard was so quiet you could hear the wind threading through the leaves. Her words didn’t come out accusing at first, nor angry—not yet. They came out like a plea, like something raw torn straight from her heart. He stepped forward, slow, like a man afraid of scaring away a wild animal. His eyes heavy with pain, the kind of pain you can’t fake. The kind that carves lines into your skin and leaves shadows behind your gaze. His hand lifted, trembling, as if he meant to touch her face. To brush his thumb across her cheek the way a husband would, the way a man still desperately in love would. But before his fingers could graze her skin, Greg was there. Fast. Like a blade being drawn from its sheath. He caught my father’s wrist mid-air, grip iron tight. His jaw flexed, eyes burning. “Keep your hands to yourself,” he spat. The words cra