Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE OBSESSIVE ALPHA'S FAKE MATE (M×M): Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

ASHERI hauled him through the dark, quiet halls of the varsity wing like a dying beast.My bare arms were locked tight around Marlowe’s limp, burning weight... holding him pinned against my chest His skin was scorching hotter than any normal Alpha rut-fever... My inner wolf was clawing at my ribs in pure, rabid panic... howling to the Moon Goddess that my mate was slipping through my fingers.“Stay with me...” I rasped into his dark, wet hair... my vocal cords tearing in my throat... cold sweat and dried blood mixed on my jaw. “Stay with me... Marlowe... fuck... please...”I didn't take him to the team infirmary. I didn't call the pack medics. If my mother’s auditors or the High Council smelled the ancient, extinct Lycan energy surging out of him... they’d lock him in silver chains, execute him on the spot, I opened the door to my private master suite... shoved him inside... and slammed the slab shut.I carried him straight to my bed... laying him down on the dark sheets. Marlo

MARLOWEI woke up pinned. Asher’s broad, six-foot-four frame was a crushing slab of concrete over my chest, locking me flat to the dark mattress. His arms were heavy iron bands around my waist, his face shoved into my neck, those yellowed, lethal Alpha fangs still hooked hooked two inches into the bruised, scabbed skin of my collarbone.Deep inside my ass I could still feel the thick, gross mess of his knot-release leaking down my thighs. But it wasn't the physical filth that made my jaw lock until my teeth nearly cracked.Skin-to-skin contact kept the mind-link wide fucking open between our skulls. Through his chest grinding against mine, his brain was dumping straight into my head like a pressurized pipe. Even out cold, his inner wolf was a violent, unhinged storm—four years of psychotic obsession, raw, possessive heat, memories of silver-chain beatings he’d taken from his mother just to hide my scent from her auditors, and a dark, suffocating need to lock me in this room and tear

MARLOWEMy stomach was churning so hard I thought I was going to throw up the venison right onto the white tablecloth.Elena was still sitting at the head of the board, her dark golden eyes narrowed into sharp, deadly slits as she watched me. Beside me, Asher’s entire frame was locked tight. His jaw was grinding so hard I could hear the enamel clicking across the quiet room, his knuckles turning chalk-white under the table as his inner wolf snarled a relentless, rabid loop deep in his chest. He was one wrong breathe away from flipping the fifty-foot mahogany table and tearing her throat out right in front of the High Council elders.I couldn't sit there for another fucking second. The heat in my chest was screaming, my White Lycan marrow vibrating under my skin after what I’d just pulled out of the King's head.I shoved my chair back, the wooden legs scraping loud against the stone floor.“Excuse me,” I said, keeping my voice dead cold and flat. “I need to use the washroom.”Elena’s e

MARLOWEThe dark supply closet was suffocating, reeking of pine cleaner and Asher's burning mint-and-cedar scent.My back was pinned flat against the wooden wall, my chest heaving against his while his thick, rock-hard length ground relentlessly against mine. Every single nerve under my skin was screaming. My body was completely out of my control, my own dick throbbing hard and heavy against the front of my jeans, straining for relief in the cramped, pitch-black space. I could feel every ridge of his cock through the denim, the thick vein on the underside dragging against my shaft with every roll of his hips."Answer me, stray," Asher low-growled, his hot breath hitting the skin of my throat as his hips gave another heavy, deliberate thrust forward. "Which one is it? You want me to stop, or you want me to keep going until you're dripping down my hand?""Shut the fuck up, Asher," I hissed back, my jaw locking tight as I dug my fingers hard into the front of his shirt. "You think I want

MARLOWEMarcel didn't just walk into third period... he strutted in like he fucking owned the whole damn building.He stood up by the whiteboard in a tailored dark wool coat, his hair styled to perfection... looking clean,refined, and disgustingly well-kept. Standing there, he looked like badlands royalty—a golden-boy twin who’d grown up eating off silver platters while I was scavenging in the dirt... wearing a scuffed leather jacket with frayed cuffs and dried ice-grit on my boots.My teeth ground together so hard my jaw fucking ached. I could feel the eyes of every wolf in the room bouncing between us... comparing us, whispering behind their notebooks.Look at the stray compared to his brother...Look at the difference...I locked my jaw, leaned forward in my desk... and focused my marrow. I pushed my White Lycan mind-touch straight out toward his head, trying to thread into his skull and rip out whatever sick plan he was hiding behind that pristine face.Nothing...No memories, no t