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Todos los capítulos de Claimed by the Seven Alphas: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

114 Capítulos

Chapter 1: The Laundry Room

Winter in the Wolf Territory could kill.The laundry room was a box of corrugated steel. When the wind shoved through the seams, it whistled—a low, guttural sound, like the noise a male wolf makes deep in his throat just before he mounts. I had been crouched beside the washbasin for so long that my kneecaps had gone numb, my fingers buried in water that was barely above freezing. My knuckles were swollen, purple as dead beans, and packed under the nails was a crust of dried blood.Not my blood.It belonged to Cain's war coat.The Wolf King had ripped a traitor apart with his bare hands the night before. They said he tore the man's scent gland clean out of his throat, trachea and all, and the blood had sprayed across the floor in a three-foot arc. This coat was the proof. Clotted shreds of tissue were still snarled deep in the fur. I had washed it five times, and the water I wrung out was still pink.The smell drove straight into my sinuses. It wasn't just the ordinary reek of blood. I

Chapter 2: The Red Necklace

The iron door flew off its hinges.Not an exaggeration. The sheet metal door was ripped clean from the frame and hurled across the laundry room, bouncing twice before skidding to a stop. The impact shattered two washbasins by the water trough, dirty water sloshing up three walls. The remaining hinges on the doorframe kept swinging, screeching out a metallic wail.The cold wind knifed in, and with it came a wave of Alpha pheromones so potent it could trigger every Omega on the premises into a forced heat. Cedarwood. Gunpowder smoke. The sharp, sweet tang of fresh human blood. This wasn't diluted pheromone residue. This was the raw, dominant presence of a male fresh off the battlefield, adrenaline still surging, his scent gland still pumping at full capacity. The instant that pheromone flood hit the laundry room, the back of my neck ignited, my gland bulging outward so violently I nearly let a muffled moan slip from my throat.Cain stood in the doorway.His black combat uniform was dren

Chapter 3: She Is Mine

Cain looked down at her.He lowered himself into a crouch, stopping halfway, leaving a gap between his knee and the ground. His face hovered close to Vivian's. The muscles of his back pulled taut under his uniform, carving out several harsh lines from his shoulder blades down to his lumbar spine, the curve sharp as the spine of a blade. His palm had withdrawn from my neck, but the residual heat of it was still there, and my gland was still throbbing in place, like a heart carved out and left pulsing outside my body."The engagement." His voice was very quiet now. "Was a lie your father spread himself. I never agreed to it. Not once."He extended his right index finger and touched the back of it to Vivian's chin, tilting her face up. That finger was still caked with dried blood."You stepped on her hand today. You ruined my coat. You tried to frame her with that cheap piece of rock. And you told her to crawl between your legs."He withdrew his finger. Vivian's chin dropped like a sever

Chapter 4: The Wolf King's Mercy

The iron gate sealed behind me with a grinding of bone on bone, low and wet, a beast locking its jaw shut after the kill.Cain carried me through three barred gates. My arms looped around his neck, my fingertips pressed to the skin just above the edge of his gland. Scalding. Abnormally hot. An Alpha King's temperature shouldn't run this high. Not unless he was burning through every ounce of willpower to cage something back.The guard on duty stepped against the wall, head down. His eyes swept over my soaked dress, over the blood still seeping from my knee. His throat bobbed. He dropped his gaze instantly. Didn't ask a single question.Second gate. The iron grating lifted with a shriek of rusted metal, the sharp tang bleeding into the air.Third gate. Thick oak planks banded with iron. It swung open on a gust of cold air that carried the chill seeping from the stone walls.The living room.Black stone walls. A black leather sofa. Orange flames snapping in the hearth. No rugs. No curtain

Chapter 5: Heavy. Slow. Deep.

"Why were you in the laundry room?" I asked. "You're the Wolf King." "My clothes get washed there." He set the kit on the coffee table. "And I left something behind." "A pendant." "Two." My hand went to the hidden pocket on the left side of my skirt. The red pendant was still there, pressed against the wet fabric, warm from my body heat. I pulled it out and held it up. The blood-red stone hung in the air. The firelight pierced through it, casting a small patch of red light onto his face, landing right on the faint scar beneath his left eye. "Your royal crest. There's only one in all of Alpha City. You put it around the neck of an Omega you knew absolutely nothing about

Chapter 6: The Red Pendant

"Long-term. High-concentration. The surface is riddled with hardened knots. A healthy Omega gland is soft. Elastic. Yours has already shriveled. It's a piece of dead meat, pickled by drugs." I bit my lip. Bit until it blanched white, the taste of rust filling my mouth. "Keep taking those drugs, and your heat will disappear completely. You'll be a barren, sexless husk." Everything he said was true. Suppressants bought on the black market. Three times the concentration of hospital prescriptions. I split one vial into three doses, adjusted the dosage myself, and injected them into my gland in the alley behind the laundry room. Sometimes I miscalculated the dose. I'd seize up afterward, hug a trash can and vomit, then get

Chapter 7: Fractured Light

The air was dry. The bitter musk of cedar and raw tobacco smothered my senses, laced with the residual heat of a man who had stayed the night. I opened my eyes to a strange scent. The ceiling was too high. Fractured light, watery and restless, rippled across the dove-gray walls. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the swimming pool churned lazily, the morning sun slicing through the water and drowning the room in an unreal, liquid blue-gray haze. The silk sheet clung to my calves, and every time I shifted, it felt like a cold tongue licking my skin. My nape was pounding. Something buried unbearably deep was shoving its way out, dragging a scorching, bone-deep ache through the flesh.

Chapter 8: Luna

I gripped the fork. Only when my fingertips touched the freezing metal did I realize my hands were shaking. "You were standing guard?" A muscle pulled at the corner of his mouth. Not a smile. The calm of a man who's been caught and doesn't care. "Who changed my clothes?" I didn't look at him when I asked. The fork pierced the runny yolk of the fried egg. Orange-yellow lava gushed out, flooding the charred edges of the bacon, soaking into the pores of the toast. I used the yolk as target practice, because if I didn't, my hands would shake harder. "Maid." The reply came too fast. Every syllable was polished too smooth. I lifted my eyes. "There are no maids on your territory."

Chapter 9: Mate

He said my name for the first time. My chest cavity felt like it was being violently crushed by an invisible fist. My heart slammed twice against his palm, then missed a beat. My name rolled out of his throat with a rough, dragging tail sound, landing in the gap of air between us that was less than a fist's width. Too close. So close I could see the very faint old scar on his lower lip. So close I could count the lines in his irises, patterns paler than ice and deeper than the sea. So close I had to tilt my face up to catch his gaze. "That red necklace," he said. "You know what it means." "You put it there." "A Wolf King's Covenant. The moment I slipped that necklace into your pocket," he lifted his hand, the motion so slow I watched every angle of his fingers curling,

Chapter 10: My Omega

She forced another step forward. Her heel stomped down on the alligator-skin handbag that had slipped from her grip earlier. The stiletto punctured straight through the leather. She didn't even notice. Her pheromones were flinging out in a manic wave. The sickly sweet gardenia, laced with the chemical reek of synthetic inducers, slammed toward me like a wall of rotting flowers. Using pheromones to suppress me. A high-ranking Beta releasing pheromone suppression on an Omega. In high society circles, that was the equivalent of slapping someone across the face in public. Worse, she was doing it on *his* territory. Right under *his* eyes. Using her pheromones to attack the "mate" he had just declared. My gland gave a vicious kick beneath the sweater. Not fear. Not weakness. Something that had been locked too deep inside my

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