Page 85
Story: Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed
“I know it’s frustrating,” Caleb continued, his voice softening. “Being stuck like this, unable to ask all the questions you must have.”
That was the understatement of the century. I had enough questions to fill a book, with footnotes and an appendix. And the only way I could communicate was through elaborate charades that usually ended with everyone guessing wrong and me wanting to bang my tiny wolf head against the wall.
“Imo seems convinced your mother’s heritage is the key,” Caleb said, working a comb carefully through my fur. “Something about ancient bloodlines and dormant powers.”
Great. Because “dormant powers” sounded exactly like what my life needed right now—more supernatural complications. I’d been perfectly happy being normal, thank you very much. Normal people didn’t get stuck as wolves or discover their mothers were secretly… whatever she had been. Normal people worried about student loans and bad dates, not ancestral magic and interspecies politics.
“There,” Caleb declared, setting the comb aside. “Fluffy and presentable again.”
I glanced at my reflection in his dresser mirror. The small silver-white wolf staring back looked distinctly unimpressed with life. My fur, at least, was now glossy and smooth, the dark markings along my spine standing out in stark contrast. If I was going to be stuck as a wolf, at least I was a photogenic one. Small victories.
“Derek should be back soon,” Caleb said, checking his watch. “He’s been running the Knox Pack ragged all day. Probably wants first dibs on cuddle time tonight.”
I growled softly. The brothers’ nightly competition for who got to sleep with me had become an embarrassing routine. You’d think having a tiny wolf in their bed would lose its novelty after a week, but no—they still argued over it like children with a favorite toy. “It’s my turn with the Kai-wolf!” “No, you had him yesterday!” I half expected them to start pulling my tail in opposite directions.
“Don’t give me that look.” Caleb grinned, scooping me up. “You love the attention.”
I did not. Okay, maybe a little. There was something undeniably comforting about sleeping surrounded by massive wolf shifters who would literally tear apart anyone who threatened me. But still—principle. I had a reputation as a strong, independent quarter-wolf to maintain. Even if I did occasionally enjoy being the little spoon to a six-foot-four alpha.
Dinner was its usual humiliating affair. Jorge had outdone himself with what he called “fusion cuisine for transitioning shifters”—essentially gourmet dog food with Korean influences, thanks to Imo’s input. I sat on my tower of books, trying to maintain some dignity while Marcus hand-fed me bits of meat. Shakespeare, Austen, and Dickens would be so proud of their contribution to booster seat technology.
“The council is sending formal observers tomorrow,” Derek was saying between bites. “They want to inspect the dueling grounds before the ceremony.”
“Standard procedure.” Marcus nodded. “Elder Grey will oversee the preparations personally.”
“And the Blackwoods?” Caleb asked, his tone carefully neutral.
“They’ve confirmed their attendance,” Marcus replied, his fingers lingering on my fur. “As observers only.”
The tension around the table was palpable. Even Maria, who usually pretended not to notice supernatural politics, frowned slightly.
“Will they bring their full retinue?” Derek asked.
“Just the brothers, according to the formal response,” Marcus said. “Though I wouldn’t put it past Edmund to send others separately.”
Great. Not only would I be attending a supernatural duel while stuck as a wolf, but the Blackwood brothers would be there too. I hadn’t knownthatJames from the bookstore had brothers until they showed up at the Harvest Festival. Something about them had triggered a half-forgotten memory—young men in the woods, when I was just a kid. The details were fuzzy, like trying to recall a dream, but the way they’d watched Luke at the festival stirred something familiar. That same intense focus I now recognized from when alphas looked at me, but directed at my best friend. Even stuck in this tiny wolf form, my protective instincts stirred at the memory, though Luke had seemed more intrigued than intimidated by their attention.
“And Kai?” Luke asked. “Does he really need to be there?”
“He has to be,” Marcus said, his hand protective on my back. “The mate bond stretches thin during formal combat. We need him close.”
“I’ll stay with him,” Luke volunteered immediately. “Keep him out of trouble.”
I would have rolled my eyes if wolves could do that properly. As if I could get into trouble in my current state. What was I going to do—yip someone to death? Trip over my own paws menacingly? Maybe I could intimidate them with my fierce tail wagging.
“Min-seo should stay with him too,” Derek added. “Her… abilities might be useful if anything unexpected happens.”
The conversation shifted to logistics and security arrangements, details that would have fascinated me if I wasn’t so busy being fed like a toddler. By the time dessert arrived—yes, Jorge had made wolf-friendly dessert, because apparently being stuck as a canine wasn’t punishment enough—I was thoroughly done with the day.
Bedtime brought the expected argument.
“He slept with you last night,” Derek growled at Marcus. “It’s my turn.”
“You kicked him twice in your sleep,” Marcus countered. “He’s safest with me.”
“Both of you snore,” Caleb interjected. “He should clearly stay with me.”
I sat on the hallway floor, watching this territorial display with growing exasperation. In the week I’d been stuck as a wolf, not a single night had passed without this ridiculous debate. You’d think three grown alphas could work out a schedule, but no—every night was a fresh negotiation. Maybe they should just draw straws. Or better yet, ask me what I wanted. Novel concept.
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