All Chapters of Claimed by The Alphas: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Aria wasn’t sure when her tears had stopped—only that the ache in her chest had dulled to a heavy numbness. At some point during the night, she’d passed out across the middle of her bed, still in her torn and dirty patrol uniform. She woke slowly, eyes gritty and limbs sore, the imprint of her badge pressing into her ribs through the fabric of her shirt.She didn’t move for a long time. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, letting the silence soak through her bones.Eventually, she sat up and peeled off her uniform. She didn’t have the energy to shower. Her body felt heavy, like her soul had thickened and settled in her muscles.She pulled on a baggy gray t-shirt and a pair of loose, worn lounge pants. No bra. No makeup. She tugged her curls into a messy bun on top of her head and stared at herself in the mirror.Her eyes looked tired. Hollow.But her wolf was silent. Not defeated—just waiting.With a sigh, Aria grabbed her keys and headed out the door.She couldn’t stand smelling

The door clicked softly behind Wyatt, and silence settled like dust in the air.Aria stood in the quiet, watching the empty space where he had just been. Her heart fluttered strangely, like it wasn’t sure what to do with itself. The scent of shea butter and coconut still lingered on her skin, but now it mixed with something deeper—confusion, heat, and the memory of Wyatt’s eyes as they looked at her.Not like an Alpha.Not like a soldier.But like a man.Just as her thoughts started to spiral, tires crunched on the gravel outside. A second later, the front door swung open.Roy stepped in, eyes immediately scanning the room. “Was that Wyatt I just passed?”Aria blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. He stopped by.”Roy shut the door and raised an eyebrow. “Stopped by?” His voice was calm but layered with curiosity—and something else. Protective instinct, maybe.“He came to explain things,” Aria said, dropping onto one of the kitchen stools. “About the suspension. About James. About… me.”Roy wat

Aria lay in bed, arms tucked around her pillow, the late morning sunlight leaking between the curtains. She hadn’t moved in hours. Her body still buzzed from the dream—the rush of Wyatt’s hands on her, the press of his mouth, the sting of James’s slap, the way her soul had felt ripped in two.It was all so vivid.The heat. The fear. The need.She exhaled a shaky breath, fingers brushing over the spot on her neck where dream-Wyatt had nearly marked her. Goosebumps rose under her touch. The dream shouldn’t have felt that real. And James… her chest tightened at the memory of his rage, the way his voice had echoed like a curse in her skull.She needed a distraction. Something to ground her.She reached for her phone and texted the only person who could pull her out of this fog:Aria: You free today? I need tequila and best friend therapy.Samantha: Hell yes. One hour. I’ll bring snacks.A small smile pulled at Aria’s lips. Bless Samantha.Aria rolled out of bed and padded to the shower, l

The first fragile light of dawn crept through the heavy velvet curtains, stretching faint fingers across the dark wood floor of Wyatt’s bedroom. He lay awake beneath the cool sheets, his eyes tracing the familiar ceiling beams but his mind far from rest. All he could think about was Aria.The memory of her filled every corner of his thoughts. Her dark curls, damp and wild from the shower, cascading in soft springs that framed her face with a chaotic kind of beauty. The deep ocean blue of her eyes, flecked with green, fierce and yet vulnerable in a way that tore at something inside him. The subtle curve of her lips, pink and full, twitching with a small, almost shy smile when he’d apologized earlier. Even the faint scent of shea butter and coconut—the new fragrance she’d switched too—lingered in his mind like a whisper of something intimate and untouchable.He rose quietly, moving with the practiced grace of a warrior who had long learned to navigate both the battlefield and his own tu

The familiar scent of roasted garlic and char-grilled meat wrapped around Aria as she stepped into Kelly’s Grill. Her nerves stirred like leaves in the wind. She spotted Wyatt almost immediately—tall, composed, and seated in the back corner booth. Her heart thudded. He stood when he saw her, offering a nod and a smile that was softer than she expected. His dark henley fit him too well—sleeves pushed up to reveal strong forearms, his dirty blond hair casually tousled. He looked like he belonged in a magazine… or maybe in her dreams. “Hi,” she said, her voice too quiet. “Hi,” he echoed, eyes not leaving hers. “You look nice.” She glanced down at her light pink cropped top and fitted jeans. “Thanks. You do too.” He gestured to the booth. “Sit?” She slid in first, and he followed. The waitress appeared, recognizing them both, and took their drink orders. “Sweet tea,” Aria said automatically. “Water for now,” Wyatt added. “We’ll need a few minutes.” But they didn’t need them. The