Page 26 of Marked by Alphas 2: Claimed (The Blood Moon Chronicle #2)

I could practically see the brothers’ ears perk up at the mention of meat—well, more than usual.

Their attention was sharper than Scout’s focus on a dropped crumb.

It was kind of adorable how three powerful alpha wolves could be reduced to eager puppies at the mention of premium beef.

Not that I’d ever say that out loud. I liked living.

Imo nodded, pulling out more containers with a flourish.

“Got al l the sides and wraps for it— ssamjang , kimchi , kongnamul muchim , oisobagi , myeolchi bokkeum , and fresh lettuce and perilla leaves. Everything you need for a proper feast.” Her voice held the kind of reverence usually reserved for religious ceremonies.

The dogs’ behavior was killing me. I’d seen them take down training dummies twice their size, yet here they were, executing perfect “starving orphan” impressions.

The cognitive dissonance between “fierce pack guardians” and “shameless beggars” was giving me whiplash.

They sat up straighter, eyes wide and tongues lolling out like they understood every word.

It was almost as if they were imagining the spread of food.

Then again, they probably were; I wouldn’t put it past them at this point.

“Sounds amazing,” Caleb said, looking as eager as the dogs. “We’re definitely looking forward to it.”

Marcus nodded in agreement, his gaze flicking between the ingredients being unpacked and Imo herself. “It’ll be a welcome change to our usual fare.”

Derek just grunted an affirmative, but his eyes betrayed his anticipation—like a kid promised candy if he could sit still through dinner.

The conversation shifted smoothly from culinary plans to curiosity about Imo’s shop in Seattle. Jorge leaned forward, genuine interest lighting up his features. “I’ve always admired traditional practices,” he said. “What sort of items do you sell?”

Imo brightened at the question and dug into her bag for her phone.

“Many things,” she began as she swiped through photos.

“Medicinal herbs mostly— ginseng , goji berries , danggui . Also charms for protection and good health.” She flipped through images of shelves lined with jars filled with mysterious roots and dried plants.

Watching Jorge and Imo interact was like seeing two master craftsmen recognize each other’s art.

The way they discussed traditional practices and healing properties made me wonder if maybe this whole supernatural revelation wasn’t as earth-shatte ring to them as I’d thought.

Then again, Imo did keep dried mugwort hanging from her shop ceiling “for emergencies,” so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.

Maria peered over her shoulder at the screen, nodding appreciatively at each photo. “And these?” She pointed to an array of colorful talismans hanging from the ceiling of Imo’s shop.

“Ah, those are for warding off evil spirits,” Imo explained with a tone that suggested this was common knowledge—like explaining milk went well with cookies.

The brothers listened intently, fascination clear in their expressions. It wasn’t every day you got to chat with someone who wielded spiritual might like some people wielded kitchen knives.

I watched in amusement as Scout’s puppy eyes reached new levels of pathetic, his gaze locked on the array of sweets with an intensity usually reserved for squirrels in the garden.

“Those eyes should be classified as a lethal weapon,” Luke said, trying to resist.

Shadow and Storm weren’t far behind, employing their own versions of emotional manipulation. Shadow maintained a dignified pose but somehow managed to look utterly dejected, while Storm’s tail wagged hopefully every time someone reached for a pastry.

Imo finally broke. “Aigoo.” She sighed in that distinctly maternal Korean way. “These eyes worse than Luke as baby!” She reached into one of her many bags and pulled out what looked like homemade dog treats. “Made special. Good for coat, good for energy. No human food for big babies.”

The dogs’ transformation from pitiful to ecstatic was instantaneous. Even Shadow dropped his aristocratic demeanor, tail wagging as enthusiastically as his brothers’.

“You made them treats?” I laughed. “Of course you did.”

“Dogs need love too,” Imo said primly, distributing the treats with the same care she used for her ritual offerings .

After the impromptu treat session, Jorge stood up. “Shall we show you around? The manor has quite a history.”

“Yes, yes! Want to see everything. Feel many strong energies.” Imo practically bounced up, her prayer beads clicking rhythmically.

As Jorge and Maria led Imo toward the kitchen, I gestured for Luke to follow me upstairs. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’re staying.”

“This place is insane,” Luke whispered as we climbed the grand staircase. His eyes traced the ornate woodwork and ancient tapestries. “Actually insane. It’s giving me serious Gothic novel vibes, but make it Pacific Northwest with a side of supernatural wealth.”

“Wait till you see the hidden passages.” I grinned. “Though I’m still convinced I’ll find a ghost every time I open a door.”

“Please tell me there’s at least one secret bookcase entrance. I’ll be severely disappointed in your wealthy wolf boyfriends if there isn’t.”

“Three, actually. That I know of.” I paused at the top of the stairs. “Derek’s is behind his weapons display, which is exactly as extra as it sounds.”

As we climbed the grand staircase, I couldn’t help but marvel at how…

normal this felt. Well, as normal as anything could be in a mansion full of werewolves while my adoptive Korean mom performed impromptu spiritual readings of the architecture.

But still. Nobody had been exorcised yet, Luke hadn’t tried to drag me back to Seattle, and the brothers seemed genuinely charmed by Imo’s particular brand of chaos.

Maybe this wouldn’t be the disaster I’d feared. Though I probably shouldn’t jinx it—we still had dinner to get through, and knowing my luck, something would definitely catch fire. Hopefully just metaphorically.

“This is your room,” I said, gesturing to the massive guest suite that could have fit my entire college apartment three times over. “Maria insisted on putting you near me.”

“Holy shit,” Luke breathed, taking in the king-sized bed with its ridiculous thread count sheets, the sitting area with its leather armchairs, and the wall of windows overlooking the gardens. “This isn’t a guest room, this is a five-star hotel suite.”

“Yeah, the brothers take their luxury very seriously.” I flopped onto one of the armchairs, watching Luke explore. “Derek actually complained that the towels in my bathroom weren’t ‘soft enough’ last week. I didn’t even know towels could be wrong.”

“Your bathroom?” Luke raised an eyebrow. “Show me.”

My room was a few doors down the grand hallway, and if possible, even more ridiculous than Luke’s. The brothers had insisted on “properly furnishing” it, which apparently meant enough space to house a small army and furniture that probably cost more than my student loans.

“I feel like I’m going to break something every time I breathe in here,” I admitted as Luke whistled at the view from my private balcony. “Pretty sure that vase is worth more than my life insurance.”

“Okay, spill.” Luke settled onto my bed. “What’s really going on? And don’t give me that summarized version you told me over the phone. I want everything, starting with why you never mentioned living here before.”

I sighed, curling up in my reading nook by the window.

“Honestly? I didn’t remember most of it until I came back.

It’s like… like someone took all my memories before age thirteen and ran them through a paper shredder.

When I first saw the cottage again, it was weird.

I knew things I shouldn’t have known—little details about the house, where things were, old habits.

But the actual memories? Just flashes, fragments.

Like watching a movie with most of the scenes missing. ”

“That sounds messed up,” Luke said softly .

“Yeah. Mom never talked about it either. We just… left. One day we were here, the next we were running. We moved around a lot after that—Seattle, Portland, San Francisco. Never stayed anywhere longer than a year until…” I trailed off, remembering those frantic years of constant movement.

“Until she died,” Luke finished softly. “When you were eighteen.”

“Yeah.” I picked at a loose thread on my sleeve. “Then college happened and I met you and your disaster cooking skills.”

“Hey! I make excellent ramen now.”

“Microwaving doesn’t count as cooking.”

“At least I never set the kitchen on fire making toast and burned my entire arm.”

“That was one time!” I protested, rubbing my arm in memory.

“And looking back, it should have scarred badly, but it healed in like, two days.” I paused, something clicking into place.

“Actually, remember that time you wiped out on your skateboard sophomore year? The one where you should have needed stitches?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah, but it wasn’t that bad?—”

“It was that bad. I saw the gash. But the next day it was just… gone. I thought that was normal because, well, the same thing happened to me all the time. But now…”

I watched Luke’s eyes widen slightly, something uncertain flickering across his face. Before either of us could pursue that particular revelation, Scout bounded into the room and launched himself at me, nearly knocking me off my perch.

“Yes, hello, you attention-seeking missile.” I laughed, scratching behind his ears. “Did Maria send you to check on us?”

“So,” Luke said after a moment, clearly deciding to tackle one supernatural crisis at a time, “about these brothers. You said they’re your… mates? ”

“Apparently.” I focused on Scout’s fur, avoiding Luke’s eyes. “It’s a wolf shifter thing. Like… supernatural marriage? But more intense? I’m still figuring it out myself.”

“So what you’re telling me is you somehow acquired three supernatural husbands who live in a Gothic mansion in the middle of nowhere and own designer towels.”

“When you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous.”

“It is ridiculous!” Luke threw his hands up. “This is?—”

A loud chanting echoed up from downstairs, followed by what sounded suspiciously like bells.

“Oh no,” Luke groaned. “Eomma found something that needs cleansing.”

“We should probably?—”

“Yeah.” Luke sighed, standing. “Before she decides to sage the entire west wing. Derek seems like the type to get twitchy about people messing with his weapons room.”

As we headed downstairs, Scout trotting behind us, I couldn’t help but wonder about Luke’s healing.

But that was definitely a crisis for another day.

Right now, we had to stop Imo from accidentally exorcising any helpful ancestral spirits—or worse, reorganizing Jorge’s kitchen in the name of better energy flow.