All Chapters of Claimed by the Notorious Alphas (Erotic Collection): Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

Amelia’s P.O.VThe kiss was a violation, a thick, suffocating weight that left me gasping for air the moment he finally pulled away. I lay there, trembling, my chest heaving, staring up at the grime-streaked ceiling.I felt like a broken doll, discarded and waiting for the final blow.Darren didn’t give me a moment to recover. He reached down, his large hands gripping the fabric of the thin underwear he’d allowed me to wear earlier.With one violent, sudden jerk, he ripped the flimsy piece right off my body. The sound of tearing fabric echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room, and suddenly, I was exposed. The cold air hit my skin, making my flesh crawl.Instinctively, I tried to cover myself, crossing my arms over my breasts and pressing my thighs together, trying to shrink into the mattress. I wanted to disappear, to vanish into the shadows of this hellhole."Don't bother," Darren sneered. He grabbed my wrists, yanking them away from my body with such force that I gasped, pinning them

Amelia’s P.O.VThe ride back to the estate was a blur of grey skies and the suffocating scent of iron and rain. I remember the feeling of Luca’s chest against my cheek, the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heart acting as the only anchor in a world that had completely shattered.I didn't speak. I couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the ghost of Darren’s fingers stretching me, heard his voice calling me a slut, and felt the sickening, involuntary pulse of a climax that had felt like a betrayal of my own soul.When we arrived, the luxury of the estate, which had once felt like a gilded cage, now felt like a sanctuary I didn't deserve.They treated me with a delicacy that was almost agonizing. They bathed me—not with the rough scrubbing of a captive, but with warm water and soft cloths. Marco washed my hair, his touch so light it was as if he feared I would break under his fingertips.Dante cleaned the bruises on my thighs and the soreness between my legs with a clinical yet tende

Amelia’s P.O.VThe silence that followed Luca’s threat was absolute, a heavy, suffocating blanket that pressed down on every guest in the ballroom.I could feel the brothers' anger radiating off them in waves—a physical heat that clashed with the chilled air of the palace. I clung to Luca’s arm, my knuckles white, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.The cream silk of my gown felt suddenly too thin, leaving me exposed to the predatory gaze of Silas and the judging eyes of the court.All eyes shifted toward the throne. The Alpha King, a man of immense presence and ancient power, remained still, his golden eyes scanning the tension in the room.He looked at Silas, then at the Moretti brothers, and finally, his gaze landed on me. There was no judgment in his eyes, only a profound, knowing sadness.The Alpha King spoke, his voice not loud, but carrying a resonance that vibrated in the very marrow of my bones."Silas," the King began, his tone measured. "You speak of tra

Amelia’s P.O.VThe aftermath of the rescue had left me in a state of raw, vibrating intensity. The brothers wouldn't let me leave their sight, but the tenderness they showed me had evolved. It was no longer just about healing my wounds; it was about preparing me.For weeks, the estate became a sanctuary of learning. Luca taught me the intricacies of pack politics and the strategic layout of the territories. Marco showed me how to read the subtle shifts in a werewolf's body language—the flick of an ear, the low rumble in a chest—that signaled aggression or submission.Dante, in his own cold, disciplined way, pushed my physical limits, teaching me how to move with stealth and how to strike where it hurt most.But there was something else. Something humming beneath my skin that none of them could quite explain, though they all felt it.It happened during a training session in the gardens. I was exhausted, my lungs burning, and as I looked at the brothers—their faces tight with the stress

Amelia’s P.O.VThe dust of war had finally settled, leaving behind a silence that didn't feel heavy with dread, but light with the promise of a new beginning. The blood-soaked battlefields were being reclaimed by the earth, and the screams of the dying had been replaced by the rhythmic humming of a pack in recovery.For the first time since I had been dragged onto that auction stage in chains, I could breathe without feeling a weight pressing against my lungs.The Moretti estate, once a place of gilded terror and confusing luxury, had become my sanctuary. I stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror in my dressing room, staring at the woman reflecting back at me.I was draped in a gown of shimmering silver and moonlight, the fabric clinging to curves that had been mapped, claimed, and worshipped by three different men. My skin glowed, not just from the expensive oils, but from the raw, supernatural power of the Catalyst humming beneath my surface.I remembered the girl I used to be—the