Page 16 of Marked by Alphas 2: Claimed (The Blood Moon Chronicle #2)

“Everything is wrong with that system,” I said, but my heart wasn’t really in the argument.

As much as I hated being stuck in the manor, protected like some precious artifact, I wasn’t stupid.

The Knox Pack had made it very clear how helpless I was right now.

A nd while I technically could tell the brothers to shove their protective instincts where the sun didn’t shine—they weren’t my alphas yet, after all—the memory of being surrounded by hostile wolves was enough to keep me in training.

Call me a coward, but I’d rather sweat through Derek’s workout regime than face another pack of wolves unprepared. Running away was always an option, but even I had to admit that learning to defend myself was probably smarter in the long run.

Still, being escorted everywhere by either a brother or a Stone Force member like some VIP target was getting old. Fast.

I focused on the weights instead of their amused expressions.

The brothers seemed to think everything I did was adorable, from my color-coding obsession to my attempts at working out.

It should have been annoying. Instead, it felt…

safe. Which was probably something I should examine later, preferably when I wasn’t trying to impress three supernatural beings with my improving biceps.

“Water break,” Derek announced, tossing me a bottle that I actually managed to catch. After over a week of training, my reflexes were becoming eerily good.

The ice-cold water was heaven after hours of intense workout.

Some of it spilled down my chin, trailing over my throat and soaking into my already sweat-damp shirt.

Even through the expensive temperature-regulating fabric the brothers had insisted on buying me, I could feel their eyes tracking every droplet.

Their predatory stares made heat pool in my stomach, and a wicked idea formed.

“You should take that off,” Caleb suggested, his voice rougher than usual. “Wouldn’t want you to overheat.”

Derek growled something that sounded suspiciously like “subtle as a brick.”

The high-tech fabric was actually doing its job perfectly, but… well, if they were going to stare anyway, I might as well give them something to look at. “Good point,” I said innocently, peeling off the clingy shirt with deliberate slowness. “Safety first, right?”

The temperature in the room seemed to spike as three pairs of eyes fixed on my exposed skin.

Sweat glistened on my torso, highlighting the changes that supernatural metabolism had wrought.

My chest was more defined now, lean muscle curved over my pecs in a way that made the brothers’ eyes darken.

My waist had trimmed down to a narrow V, drawing attention to the hip bones peeking above my workout shorts.

I wasn’t built like the brothers—I’d never have their massive, powerful frames—but my body had transformed into something almost fae-like: lithe, graceful, and deceptively strong.

The perfect complement to their raw power.

Even my skin seemed different, almost luminescent under the gym lights, a trait I put down to being quarter-wolves.

No wonder they were looking at me like that, their eyes tracking every movement with predatory focus.

“The training’s definitely showing results,” Marcus observed in a voice that had dropped to a dangerous purr.

His eyes traced a bead of sweat as it rolled down my stomach, following its path with an intensity that made my whole body flush.

Maybe teasing three alpha werewolves wasn’t my smartest idea, but the way they looked at me—like I was something rare and precious and absolutely edible—made it hard to care.

“Supernatural metabolism,” Derek said roughly, his eyes gleaming gold at the edges. “You’ll probably notice more changes soon.”

The way he said it sent another wave of heat through my body. I had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about muscle definition.

“Right,” I grabbed another weight, deliberately flexing more than necessary. “More training? ”

“Actually—” Caleb’s voice was strangled. “Maybe we should?—”

“Focus,” Derek cut in, though his hands seemed to linger longer than necessary as he adjusted my form. His fingers traced fire along my bare skin, and I had to bite back a gasp. “Control is important.”

I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or his brothers, but Marcus and Caleb both took a step back, their eyes still burning. The gold in their irises was definitely more prominent now, a clear sign I was pushing dangerous boundaries.

“Control,” Marcus echoed, sounding like the word physically pained him. “Exactly.”

I managed three more sets before realizing the brothers weren’t actually helping anymore—they were just…

watching. Even Derek had stopped giving instructions, his eyes tracking every movement with an intensity that made my skin prickle with awareness.

Every flex, every stretch, every bead of sweat rolling down my chest seemed to draw their attention like moths to flame.

“I thought this was supposed to be training,” I said innocently, stretching in a way that made their pupils dilate. If they were going to look at me like I was dessert, I might as well make it interesting.

“It is.” Derek’s voice was deliciously rough. “We’re… observing your form.”

“Very thoroughly,” Caleb added, not even trying to hide how his eyes roamed my body. “Someone has to make sure you’re… developing properly.”

Marcus made a sound that might have been agreement or might have been a growl. It was getting harder to tell the difference lately, but the way it resonated through my body was definitely not helping my concentration.

The air felt thick with something electric, dangerous.

Every time I moved, their eyes followed, and I could swear the temperature in the room kept rising despite the high-tech climate control.

Even Storm had abandoned his lazy sprawl to sit at attention, like he was feeding off the crackling energy between us.

I reached for my water bottle again, arching my back slightly more than necessary. Three sharp inhales told me the brothers had noticed. The bottle was still cold, and a drop of condensation rolled down my chest. Three pairs of eyes followed its path with predatory focus.

“Maybe we should—” Marcus started, taking a step forward, his control visibly fraying.

I probably should have been more concerned about three increasingly predatory werewolves stalking toward me, but something about their barely contained desire made me feel… powerful. Dangerous.

“Should what?” I asked, letting the water bottle press against my neck, cooling my heated skin.

Derek made a sound that was definitely more wolf than human. He moved behind me, not quite touching but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “You’re playing with fire, little mate.”

“Am I?” I tilted my head back, exposing my throat in a way that made all three brothers inhale sharply. Their eyes were more gold than human now, fixed on the pulse point in my neck.

Caleb pressed closer, boxing me in between him and Derek. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Marcus’ hand found my hip, his thumb tracing circles on my bare skin. “The question is,” Marcus rumbled, his voice pure sin, “are you ready for what happens next?”

I wasn’t. Probably. Maybe. But the way they surrounded me, the barely contained power in their bodies, the hunger in their eyes… it made me want to find out .

Marcus leaned in, his lips barely brushing my jaw. Derek’s hands tightened on my waist, and Caleb?—

“Dios mío!” Maria’s voice shattered the heated moment. “It’s like a sauna in here! Jorge’s about to serve lunch and— Oh!” She paused in the doorway, taking in the scene: three alpha werewolves practically wrapped around my half-naked form. “I see we’re admiring the results of training.”

I grabbed for my discarded shirt so fast I nearly tripped over Storm. The brothers steadied me automatically, their hands lingering longer than necessary. “We were just?—”

“Just finishing up,” Derek said smoothly, though his voice still had that gravelly edge that made my skin tingle.

“Mm-hmm.” Maria’s knowing look made me want to crawl under the weight bench. “Well, lunch is ready. Though perhaps some cold showers first, yes?”

“Maria!” I spluttered.

“What? It’s very hot in here.” Her innocent expression wouldn’t have fooled a kindergartener. “Jorge made his special paella. Don’t let it get cold while you’re all… observing form.”

She disappeared down the hall, her laughter echoing behind her.

“I’m going to die,” I announced to no one in particular. “Right here in this gym. Of embarrassment.”

“You’re doing no such thing,” Marcus said, finally seemingly regaining his composure. “You’re going to shower, eat lunch, and then we’re discussing security arrangements for this weekend.”

Right. The weekend. When Luke and his ritual-wielding mother were coming to visit, just in time for the Cedar Grove Harvest Festival. Perfect timing.

The hot shower felt amazing after the intense workout, washing away the sweat if not the memory of the brothers’ heated stares.

I dressed quickly in black jeans and a soft blue t-shirt that may or may not have been chosen because Marcus had once m entioned liking the color on me, then headed downstairs for lunch.

The dining room smelled like Jorge’s special paella and Maria’s fresh-baked bread. My stomach growled loud enough to make Storm’s ears perk up from his spot by the fireplace.

“Finally!” Jorge emerged from the kitchen, wielding a wooden spoon like a weapon. “Before it gets cold!”

I slid into my usual seat—the brothers had somehow arranged it so I was always within arm’s reach of at least two of them at any given time. The tension from the gym still simmered beneath the surface, especially when Marcus’ hand found my knee under the table.