Claimed By My Mate's Step-Uncle のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Zelda's POV “Zelda, for the last time, you and Claus are healthy,” Doctor Ray stated, his voice a calm tide against the storm brewing inside me. “But if you continue taking unprescribed drugs and engaging in… intimate relations, it will affect you.” His words, usually a dull thrum in the background of my anxieties, suddenly struck a chord. I remembered that night vividly. The doctor’s previous warning had echoed in my mind as Claus pulled me closer, his eyes alight with desire. I had pulled back, muttering something about not feeling well and about the doctor’s advice. He’d stormed off, a dark cloud of anger and I, ever the fool in love, had run after him, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. And then I saw it. A scene that played on an endless loop in the darkest corners of my mind, a tormenting film I wished I could rewind and erase. My eyes, please let them play tricks on me. Claus kissing Freya, his beta’s sister. Freya, who he’d insisted on making his assistant, brushe

Zelda's POV I gasped, ending the call abruptly. My heart hammered against my ribs like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Start a war? That was exactly what I would be doing if I confessed my secret to Bane. The truth, raw and terrifying, threatened to overwhelm me. I was pregnant with his child, yet I was Claus's mate. The realization was a tidal wave, pulling me under and suffocating me with its implications. There was no turning back now. Claus had already announced the pregnancy to everyone. My life that was once predictable had veered wildly off course. I was caught between two powerful men, a pawn in a game I didn't even understand. A grand celebration. The words echoed in my mind like a cruel mockery of my inner turmoil. I had to face them all, pretend to be the blissful mother-to-be, the devoted mate. The thought made me sick. I stood before the mirror, my reflection was a stranger. The white dress, chosen by Claus, clung to my curves and a contrast to the darkness swirlin

Claus's POV The boardroom of Brooks Enterprises didn’t smell like the future; it smelled like dust, old parchment, and the stagnant breath of dying men.I sat at the head of the mahogany table, watching the Pack Elders bicker. They were relics, their graying furs and trembling hands a testament to a world that was supposed to be mine. Across from me, an empty chair mocked me—the seat that belonged to my father, Raymond, who was too busy coughing up his lungs in a darkened room to defend his son’s birthright."The shift is undeniable," Elder Hakan wheezed, tapping a gnarled finger on a high-resolution photo of Zelda’s neck. "The mark left by Bane Blackwood isn't a mere bite. It’s glowing, silver-rimmed. The Moon Goddess herself has reached down and rewritten the bond."I forced a smile, the kind of polished, charismatic expression I’d practiced in mirrors since I was twelve. Inside, I wanted to tear Hakan’s throat out."The Moon Goddess is fickle, Hakan," I said, my voice smooth as age

Bane’s POV I stood in the center of the cell, the silver-lined shackles biting into my wrists, suppressing my wolf until my veins felt like they were filled with crushed glass.The sound of the assault above had shifted. The rhythmic gunfire was replaced by the wet, frantic sounds of close-quarters slaughter. Then, the heavy reinforced door at the end of the corridor buckled.A concussive blast blew the hinges inward. Through the smoke, the masked invaders poured in. They moved with a predatory silence that chilled even my blood. They weren't looking for me. They moved past my cell with a chilling indifference, their blades finding the throats of the Brooks guards who had just finished locking me away."Silas! Release the dampeners!" I roared over the din.The Beta was pinned against the far wall by a masked giant. He looked at me, his eyes wide with a sudden, horrific realization. He reached for the remote on his belt, but a blade found his shoulder first. He dropped the device. I

Zelda's POV Through the tinted glass, I looked out at the remote village. It was a stark contrast to the sprawling, high-tech corporate concrete of the Blackwood territory or the gilded luxury of the Brooks ancestral lands. Here, the air smelled of turned earth, wild fertilizer, and the sharp, clean scent of cedar pine. Fields of green stretched out toward the horizon, bordered by ancient stone walls.But the atmosphere wasn't welcoming. As we drove down the narrow dirt road, the locals, simple pack-dwellers, their wolves closer to the surface than the city-bred elites, stopped what they were doing. Men leaning against tractors, women hanging laundry on lines, children kicking a worn leather ball—they all turned to stare. Their eyes were wide, suspicious, and heavy with a primitive caution.Bane didn't even blink. His strong hands remained steady on the leather-wrapped steering wheel, his profile cutting a sharp, unbothered silhouette against the late afternoon sun. He parked the