Semua Bab Lunar Sin: Alpha's Forbidden Claim: Bab 11 - Bab 20

The raised voices outside the door lasted only a few minutes before falling into a tense, controlled silence. Footsteps approached. The lock turned. Cassian entered first, expression carved from stone. Behind him stood Kieran Ashford. The Beta was thirty-two, tall, and built with the lean, lethal muscle of a born enforcer. Dark hair, sharp grey eyes, and a permanent air of restrained violence. He closed the door behind them and locked it without being asked. His gaze swept the room once—lingering on the rumpled bed, the scent of repeated claiming thick in the air, and finally on the black leather collar around my throat. “So it’s true,” Kieran said quietly. “You knotted her.” Cassian did not deny it. He moved to stand between us, one hand resting possessively on the back of my neck just above the collar. “She is mine. The bond has begun. You will keep this knowledge to yourself, or we will have a problem.” Kieran’s nostrils flared as he took in the full scent of what had happened

The modest black dress Cassian chose for me covered my throat and fell to mid-calf, yet it did nothing to hide the truth from those who knew how to look. The leather collar sat beneath the high neckline, a secret weight against my skin. The mark on my neck pulsed under the fabric. Between my legs I still felt the residual ache of his last knotting only hours earlier. Cassian kept me close from the moment we left his chambers. His hand rested at the small of my back as we entered the main hall, a gesture that appeared protective to the rest of the pack and possessive to anyone who understood the new reality. Senior wolves filled the long tables—Betas, enforcers, a few allied Alphas visiting for territory discussions. Kieran stood near the head of the table, grey eyes tracking us the moment we appeared. Isolde was already seated, elegant and sharp, her gaze narrowing the instant she saw me on Cassian’s arm. “Evangeline,” she said as we approached. “You’re looking… recovered.” “Yes,

The second day in the London residence passed behind locked doors and drawn curtains. Cassian kept me close—sometimes beneath him, sometimes curled against his chest while the knot locked us together, always collared. Between the physical claims we spoke in low, practical tones about the future we were shaping. The encrypted messages from Kieran arrived at regular intervals. Isolde had questioned the staff. She had tried to access the east wing security logs. She had asked pointed questions about the timing of our sudden departure. Kieran was deflecting, but the window was narrowing. In the late afternoon Cassian sat in the leather armchair near the window, fully dressed in black, while I knelt between his knees wearing only the collar. His cock rested heavy and hard against my tongue as he reviewed the latest message. He spoke while I worked him slowly. “Kieran suggests a controlled disclosure,” Cassian said, fingers threading through my hair. “A small circle of trusted males—him

The following evening Isolde’s private meeting of senior Lunas took place in the west wing. Cassian received regular updates from Kieran’s people. The discussion was focused on “unusual scents” and “possible unreported bonds within the main bloodline.” Time was running out. At 11:40 p.m. a soft, coded knock sounded at the door of the Alpha’s chambers. Cassian opened it. Kieran stepped inside, locked the door behind him, and stood in silence while his grey eyes adjusted to the low light. I waited on the edge of the large bed wearing only the black leather collar. Cassian had ordered it so. The mark on my neck was uncovered. The scent of recent claims still hung heavy in the room. Cassian did not waste time on preliminaries. “You already know the truth. Tonight you see the full extent of it. You will keep silent. In exchange you gain a place in the controlled circle and a share of the leverage it creates. The rules are simple: I decide what happens. No marking. No knotting without my

The forty-eight-hour window Isolde had given Cassian began at dawn. By nightfall the Alpha’s private chambers had been prepared with clinical precision. Two discreet cameras were already active, red lights glowing in the corners. Cassian stood fully dressed in black, the encrypted device in his hand showing final confirmation messages. I waited on the edge of the bed wearing only the leather collar, as instructed. A coded knock sounded at the door. Kieran entered first. Behind him came two males I recognised from the edges of pack life and from the darker client lists Cassian kept. Lord Ronan Vale—fifty, silver at the temples, an Alpha of independent territory and one of the wealthiest buyers of the most extreme ritual footage. Beside him stood Damien Blackwood—twenty-eight, sharp-eyed, a high-ranking enforcer with a reputation for violence and silence. Both men carried the scent of controlled interest and calculation. Cassian closed the door and locked it. “You know the terms. Y