บททั้งหมดของ Mated to My Rival Step Brother: บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

Selene’s POV:Warm water wraps around me, and for the first time today, I can breathe.Gregory’s chest is firm against my back. His arms are around me, strong and safe, like nothing in this world can touch me when I am inside them. The bath water moves gently as we settle deeper into the tub.I lean my head back against his shoulder and close my eyes.“I really am sorry,” I say softly. “The meeting dragged on longer than I thought.”He hums near my ear. “You say that every time, and every time I forgive you.”I smile. “Because you are weak for me.”He laughs, low and warm. I feel the sound vibrate through his chest into my back. “Not weak. Devoted.”I turn my face slightly to look at him. His hair is damp near the edges. His eyes are softer than when he is Alpha in front of everyone. Here, he is just Gregory. My Gregory.“Same thing,” I tease.He pretends to sigh. “See, this is what I get for loving a smart woman.”“You love it,” I reply.He shifts a little, making the water ripple aro

Maya’s POV:I did not realize how loud my own thoughts were until they started to quiet down.It happens slowly. Not like a switch turning off, but like waves pulling back from the shore. The panic that had clawed inside my chest earlier is still there, somewhere deep, but it is no longer screaming. It is just… tired.Lyra is still sitting on the rug in front of me, one knee bent, looking up like she did not just hold my entire breakdown in her arms without asking for a single explanation.Who does that?Who stays without demanding the story?She glances around the room, then at me. “If we sit like this any longer, I might fall asleep on the floor. And I will blame you for my back pain tomorrow.”A small laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. “You are dramatic.”“Wrong. I am delicate.”I snort. “You look like you can lift a tree.”“Delicate tree-lifter,” she corrects.I shake my head, and for a second, the heaviness eases again.Her eyes scan the room and land on the small foldabl

Blake’s POV:The kitchen smells like coffee and toasted bread, and somehow that feels like a good sign.Lyra is leaning against the counter, eating like she has not slept enough but refuses to admit it. Maya is sitting on the chair, holding her mug with both hands, quiet but softer than when I first walked in like a home invader.I watch them for a second.They look… balanced.And for some reason, that gives me hope.“Okay,” I clap once, sitting across from them. “Operation: Make Alex Smile begins now.”Lyra chews slowly. “That name needs work.”“Rude,” I say. “It is dramatic. Emotional. Cinematic.”Maya gives a tiny smile over the rim of her mug. “Sounds like a spy mission.”“It is,” I reply. “We are infiltrating Sad Boy Territory.”Lyra almost chokes on her sandwich. “You are unbelievable.”I grin. “But useful.”She sighs. “Fine. Start. What do you have in mind?”I sit straighter, suddenly serious. “He does not like big crowds when he is low. So no huge party. Just us. Warm lights. M

Blake’s POV:By the time the sun starts leaning west, the academy feels like it’s holding its breath.Everything looks normal from the outside; classes, drills, patrol rotations, but beneath that calm, there’s a countdown ticking loudly in my head.Midnight.Alex’s birthday.Now, it's 9:30 pm.I keep flexing my right hand like an idiot, hoping the pain will magically disappear if I pretend hard enough.It doesn’t.It’s not unbearable, but every time I try to curl my fingers the way I need to for guitar strings, a sharp reminder shoots through my palm.I hate this.I hate that my body chose now of all times to betray me.Still, I refuse to let it ruin tonight.By evening, we gather at Lyra’s dorm, the chosen battlefield.The balcony doors are wide open, curtains tied back. Fairy lights are tangled across chairs, railings, even one unfortunate table leg that Leo claims “adds character.”“It adds tripping hazards,” Lyra mutters, stepping over them with a bowl of cake batter balanced on he

Alex’s POV:Rafe stands near the window of my dorm room, arms crossed, posture stiff like he already knows this conversation will not end well.I sit on the edge of my bed, fingers digging into my palms.“Say it again,” I tell him, my voice low but sharp. “Slowly.”Rafe exhales. “Your father and Selene. Blake’s mother. They have been in an active relationship for a little over a year.”My jaw tightens.“One year,” I repeat. “You are sure.”“Yes,” Rafe says firmly. “I cross checked it through three sources. Pack records. Private movements. Financial traces. They did not start anything before that.”Something in my chest loosens. Just a little.“So when my mother…” My throat tightens but I force the words out. “When she died, he was not with her.”“No,” Rafe answers immediately. “At that time, your father was not involved with Selene. Not openly. Not secretly. There is no proof of anything earlier.”I close my eyes.For years, that thought has rotted inside me. The idea that my mother cr