All Chapters of REBORN: CLAIMED BY MY MATE’S BROTHER: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

GREY'S POV Rina’s voice rang sure. “The necklace—it’s witchcraft.”The court members erupted in whispers. I felt my father’s glower burn even hotter. Rina, the old hag, continued. “And I suspect she's in this state because someone touched her besides the one who put it on her.”My eyes landed on where Nicholas held Anastasia’s hand, realisation settling in despite my anxiety. So, that's why.I wanted to rip his limbs off. If he hadn't gone about touching Anastasia, MY MATE. I wouldn't have to be facing this right now. My second plan to mark her would still seem doable. Nicholas broke through the chatter, his voice sharp. “How can it be taken off?” He asked the witch. “Only the one who put it on her can take it off.”Silence.Then all eyes, every single one of them, turned to me.Their stares palpable. Judging.Condemning.Panic seized me. Hard. I looked to Amelia again.She refused to meet my eyes.Coward.I blamed her for everything — because everything WAS her fault. I would

ANASTASIA'S POV I woke up slowly, the world swimming back into focus in soft, blurry pieces. My lashes fluttered once… twice… and then I froze.Nicholas was right beside me.His arm was slung over my waist, heavy and warm, his breath brushing my hair. For a second I didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. My eyes darted around the unfamiliar room of dark curtains, carved wooden walls, the faint scent of Bloodhound territory clinging stubbornly to the air.Was I dreaming? I had to be. The last thing I remembered was…No. No, I couldn’t remember. My mind felt too quiet, like it was bracing for something awful.As if sensing the shift in my breathing, Nicholas stirred. His eyes opened lazily, dark lashes lifting before he let out a sleepy grunt and pulled me closer, burying his face in my hair.“Mm… Ana,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “Are you okay? Feeling better?”I blinked at him, still not catching up to the moment. Feeling better? Better from what?But… weirdly, I did. I felt ligh

ANASTASIA'S POV “She’s definitely up to something,” Nicholas said, voicing the exact thought that had been storming through my head since the moment Amelia walked out. “Definitely,” Clara muttered, arms crossed, still simmering with barely-contained indignation. I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the prickling unease crawling beneath my skin. Amelia had always had a talent for stirring chaos, but this… crying crocodile tears, making apologies and planning a family gathering. This was new even for her. Her charades have always been performed for others to manipulate them into coming at me. Never has she tried to perform for ME before until now. Nicholas scratched the back of his neck, looking suddenly sheepish. “And—um… I apologise for accepting the invite on your behalf. I just did it to protect you.” I tilted my head, confused. Protect me? Picking up on my silent question, Nicholas continued gently, “Your mother. The sole reason Amelia brought her here was to pressure you. Beat y

GREY'S POVMy hands wouldn’t stop clenching and unclenching at my sides, heat practically steaming off the top of my head.I was standing outside Nicholas and Anastasia’s door, jaw locked, breath harsh, rage burning so hot in my veins it made it hard to think.I’d followed them, of course I did. I needed to talk to Anastasia again, needed to try one more time, needed her to LISTEN for once instead of hiding behind that brute like he was some damn saviour. I stood there yelling for her, calling out to her, demanding she come out so we could talk—And then I heard it.Not their angry voices asking me to leave.No.Wet sounds.Kissing.Soft moaning.HER moaning.My yells died so fast it was like someone snapped my windpipe shut.I saw red instantly. A hot, boiling red that wiped the hallway clean of everything except the image of Nicholas with his filthy mouth on what was MINE.My temple throbbed, a vein pulsing so hard it hurt. I lifted my foot, ready to kick the damn door in, ready to

ANASTASIA'S POV When I woke the next morning, the first thing I felt was warmth. Soft, solid, familiar. Nicholas’s warmth. But when I opened my eyes, the bed beside me was empty. My eyes coasted to where he was in front of the mirror, already dressed and buttoning the cuff of a dark blue shirt that was tucked neatly into black jeans. The sight made my heart soften immediately, even though a tiny prickle of worry followed right behind it. He looked like someone on his way to a serious business. Not in expression, but in purpose. “Good morning,” he whispered as soon as he noticed I was awake. He crossed the room in two long strides and leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against my forehead. The simple tenderness of it unravelled me a little. “Good morning,” I murmured back, my voice thick with sleep, my body still deliciously languid from everything we’d done last night. The memory alone warmed me. But the warmth faltered as my eyes scanned him again. “Are you going somewhere?”