Claimed By The Twins Alphas

Chapter 17

~ ROWAN’S POV ~

The cold air of the Moon Haven woods whipped against my face, but I barely felt it. My lungs burned, each breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. The adrenaline that had fueled my escape from the laundry room was starting to bleed out of me, leaving behind a hollow, shaking exhaustion.

I had drained Sabrina. I had felt her strength slide into my veins like molten gold, and for a few minutes, I felt like a god. Now, I just felt like a girl running for her life in the dark.

I stopped by an old oak tree, my hand pressing against the rough bark for support. I reached up to touch my shoulder. The skin was smooth. The jagged, blistering burn from the hot iron was gone, replaced by fresh, tender flesh.

My Moon-bound wolf had used every drop of that stolen power to knit me back together. The pain was gone, but the memory of the hiss of the iron was branded into my mind deeper than the physical wound ever could have been.

A twig snapped behind me.

I froze. My ears twitched, picking up the heavy, rhythmic thud of paws hitting the forest floor. It wasn't one wolf. It was two. Large, powerful, and fast.

I didn't even have time to turn around before the shadows moved.

Julian and Marcus shifted back to their human forms mid-stride, emerging from the darkness with a terrifying grace. They didn't even look winded. They were both naked, their skin glistening with sweat in the moonlight, muscles corded and tense.

Julian was in front. His grey eyes were not just angry; they were glowing with a feral, murderous light. He looked like he wanted to tear the world apart with his bare hands.

"You really thought you could run?" Julian’s voice was a low, dangerous growl that vibrated in my chest. He stepped into my personal space, his scent of cedar and rain slamming into me. "You incapacitated four of my best guards, Rowan. One of them has a shattered jaw. Another has three broken ribs."

I backed away until my spine hit the tree. I didn't look down. I didn't let my voice shake. "They wouldn't move. I told them to move."

"You attacked pack members," Julian hissed, pinning me against the bark. He gripped my jaw, forcing me to look at him. "Do you have any idea what the penalty is for a breeder who draws blood from the elite enforcers? I should have you locked in the cellar for a month."

"Let go of me, Julian," I said, my voice soft but sharp. "I’m not one of your dogs."

Marcus stepped forward then. He was calmer than his brother, but his baby blue eyes were fixed on my shoulder. He reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric of my torn shirt where the iron had melted the material.

"Julian, look," Marcus said quietly.

Julian’s gaze dropped to my shoulder. He saw the unblemished, pale skin where there should have been a horrific burn. He went still. The fury in his eyes shifted to a confused, sharp curiosity.

"The iron," Marcus murmured, his thumb grazing the spot where the brand had been. "Sabrina used a hot iron. I smelled the burning flesh from the hallway. How is this healed?"

"I told you," I snapped, shoving Julian’s hand off my face. "Sabrina attacked me. She cornered me in the laundry room and branded me like an animal. She told me I was her property. She told me you were going to execute me the moment I dropped your brat."

I looked at Julian, waiting for the flicker of concern. I waited for him to growl about how no one touches what belongs to him. I waited for the protection I thought came with being his "precious" breeder.

Instead, Julian laughed. It was a cold, dry sound.

"And you think that gives you the right to cause a riot in my house?" Julian stepped closer, his chest brushing against mine. "Listen to me, Rowan. I don't care about your petty girl fights with Sabrina. I don't care if she burns you or if you slap her. You are here for one reason and one reason only. You are a breeder. Your job is to stay healthy and get pregnant."

The words felt like a physical blow to my stomach. My jaw tightened. "She tortured me, Julian."

"Then you should have been faster," he retorted, his eyes hard as flint. "I will not have you causing tension in my pack. I will not have my enforcers looking at you like a threat because you can't control your temper. You are a tool, Rowan. Nothing more. Don't forget your place again, or I’ll make sure the dungeon feels like a luxury suite."

My blood boiled. I wanted to scream. I wanted to reach into him and pull out every bit of power he possessed until he was nothing but a hollow shell on the forest floor.

"I hate you," I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of my rage. "I hate both of you."

"Good," Julian said, grabbing my arm and jerking me toward the direction of the mansion. "Hate makes the blood move faster. Now move."

The walk back was silent and suffocating. Julian kept a bruising grip on my arm, while Marcus walked behind us, his presence a heavy, watchful weight. We entered through the back, avoiding the staring eyes of the staff, and went straight up to their private quarters.

The doors slammed shut behind us.

"Sit," Julian commanded, pointing to the edge of the massive bed.

I sat, but only because my legs felt like lead. The anger was the only thing keeping me upright.

Marcus disappeared into the en-suite bathroom and returned with a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. He knelt between my legs, his blue eyes searching mine. He didn't look angry like Julian. He looked... focused.

"Let me see the shoulder," Marcus said.

I pulled the torn fabric down, exposing the collarbone and the top of my breast. Julian stood by the window, his arms crossed over his chest, watching us like a hawk. He didn't say a word, but the intensity of his gaze felt like a brand of its own.

Marcus dipped the cloth into the water and began to wipe away the soot and dried blood that had surrounded the wound before it healed. His touch was incredibly gentle. He wasn't rough like Julian. He moved with a precision that made my skin prickle.

"It really is gone," Marcus whispered, his fingers lingering on my skin. "Your wolf is stronger than we realized. To heal a burn that deep in minutes..."

"It’s because I took it," I said, looking directly at Julian. "I took what I needed from her. If she touches me again, I’ll take the rest."

Julian’s eyes narrowed. "You’ll do nothing but what you're told."

Marcus ignored the bickering. He continued to wash the area, his movements slow and rhythmic. I looked down at his head, at the deep brown hair that matched his brother's. He was being so careful, so tender, that it confused me. How could a man who helped kidnap me, who treated me like a prize mare, have hands that felt like a caress?

"It’s clean now," Marcus said, his voice dropping to a low, husky register. He didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the spot where the iron had been.

A shiver raced down my spine, but it wasn't from the cold.

Julian moved then. He walked over, his presence crowding the space until the air felt thin. He looked down at me, his grey eyes dark with a sudden, sharp hunger.

"You're a lot of trouble, Rowan Brooks," Julian murmured, reaching out to tangle his fingers in my hair. He pulled my head back, forcing me to expose my throat. "But you're our trouble."

I stared up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was angry, I was exhausted, and I was trapped. But as Marcus’s hand slid up my thigh and Julian leaned down to bite at the sensitive skin of my neck, the familiar, treacherous heat began to pool in my belly.

I was their breeder. I was their prisoner.

Julian’s lips met mine in a bruising, demanding kiss that tasted of salt and possessiveness. I didn't fight him. I couldn't. Not when Marcus was pulling me back against the pillows, his hands claiming every inch of my skin.

I closed my eyes as the world narrowed down to the touch of the two men I hated most, and the terrifying power in my veins.