Todos os capítulos de Claimed by The Alphas: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Wyatt's lips moved against hers slowly, deeply, savoring every moment. Aria tasted like mint and something sweet—something uniquely her. Her hands slipped and rested lightly on his chest, gripping the front of his shirt. He let his own arm drop, wrapping both around her waist, holding her like she might disappear if he let go.The world around them faded—no trees, no mountains, no James, no war. Just the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her body, and the aching pull deep in his chest.His wolf stirred restlessly inside him, purring with satisfaction but also growling possessively. He wanted more. Craved it. Craved her. But Wyatt refused to rush this—refused to let his wolf take over.Aria wasn’t just another woman. She wasn’t a casual hookup. Even if he didn’t fully understand the depth of their connection yet, it was there. A thread between them, fragile but pulsing with power.Their kiss softened gradually, his hand brushing over her cheek, fingers threading into her soft curls.

Something was wrong.The air felt too still. Her skin itched, her wolf paced beneath the surface, and every instinct she had was screaming that something bad was coming.Aria stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, heart thudding. The silence in the house wasn’t comforting—it was suffocating.Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled out her phone. She didn’t even think, just pressed Wyatt’s contact and hit call. The phone rang once. Twice.Straight to voicemail.“Damn it,” she whispered, ending the call and trying again.Still nothing.“Pick up,” she muttered, pacing the length of the kitchen.Her wolf growled low, unease thick in her chest.If he wasn’t answering, he was either already at the packhouse… or something had gone wrong.She moved on autopilot, feet carrying her to her bedroom. She ripped open her closet door and grabbed her uniform—the black tactical pants, dark grey long-sleeve shirt with her badge patch on the right arm. She strapped on her shoulder holster, slid

"What do you mean her car’s gone?” Wyatt’s voice was low but lethal.Roy didn’t have time to answer. A young Gamma burst through the war room doors, breathless and wide-eyed. “Alpha!”Wyatt turned sharply. “What is it?”“I—I saw a crash. Just now, maybe twenty minutes ago. A small dark blue car got hit at the intersection before the packhouse,” Gamma Jake reported, chest heaving. “A black truck slammed into it from the side. T-boned it hard. I didn’t see what happened after—the truck drove off. But the blue car was still there when I left to report.”Wyatt didn’t wait for confirmation. “Aria drives a dark blue sedan,” he growled, then spun toward Roy. “Activate lockdown protocol. Now.”Roy didn’t argue. He sprinted to the nearest console and began typing furiously, hands flying over the keyboard.Wyatt turned toward the map table, heart thudding violently. “No one leaves or enters the territory until I say otherwise. I want every checkpoint locked down.”Roy hit the final command key.

Warmth cocooned her—soft cotton, muscled arms, the steady rise and fall of someone breathing beside her.Aria blinked against the morning light, golden and soft as it spilled through sheer curtains. Her body ached in strange places—her wrists tender, her ribs sore—but she was safe. The scent of cedar, musk, and something deeply male filled her lungs.Wyatt.His arms were around her from behind, his chest pressed firmly to her back. One of his legs draped over hers. Protective. Possessive. As if even in sleep, he wouldn’t let her go.She was dressed, she realized—sort of. His shirt swallowed her whole, the fabric worn and soft, the hem falling to her mid-thigh. No pants. Just the oversized comfort of his scent on her skin.Aria sighed, letting her eyes fall closed again. She didn’t want to move.Not from this.Not yet.Wyatt stirred behind her, nose brushing the back of her neck. A quiet inhale. Then, his voice—rough with sleep and thick with worry.“You’re awake.”“Mhm.” Her voice cra

After a well-deserved nap, Wyatt led Aria to the bathroom. They needed to wash the smell of their deeds away before facing Aria's father. Although the evidence lay bare on her neck.The pack house loomed ahead, quiet in a way that felt unnatural. Wyatt slowed the SUV as they rolled into the drive, the air thick with the scent of smoke and blood still lingering from the night before. Beside him, Aria was quiet, her fingers curled gently around his. Her other hand rested on her thigh, where the hem of his oversized black T-shirt brushed against the fabric of her jeans. His T-shirts were more comfortable, she declared before snagging the shirt he was going to wear after their shower.She hadn’t said much on the ride, but he could feel her emotions through the bond—soft waves of exhaustion, comfort… and something lighter. Hope.Inside, the air was cooler. Dim. They’d lost partial power, but some of the backup systems had kicked in. A few remaining pack members milled around, working to cl