Claimed By The Twins Alphas

Chapter 10

~ ROWAN’S POV ~

The silence in the dining hall didn't last long after I walked out. I could hear the faint sound of Julian’s voice barking orders at the servants, but I didn't stop to listen. I kept my head high until I reached the heavy oak doors of the library. It was the only place in this massive, cold fortress where I felt like I could breathe.

I pushed the doors open and stepped inside. The smell of old paper and leather hit me immediately. It was better than the scent of sandalwood and rain that usually clouded my head whenever the twins were near.

"I didn't think you’d be in the mood for reading after that performance," a voice said.

I jumped, spinning around. Marcus was sitting in a large armchair by the window. He had a book in his lap, his baby-blue eyes watching me with a look I couldn't quite read. It wasn't the heat I saw in Julian’s eyes, but it wasn't cold either.

"I’m not in the mood for anything, Marcus," I snapped, walking toward the furthest shelf. "I just wanted to be away from everyone. Especially your brother."

Marcus closed his book and stood up. He walked toward me with that slow, graceful movement all Alphas had. "Julian is Julian. He has a way of making people want to scream. But you did more than scream today, Rowan. You bit back."

"She deserved it," I said, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts. "Sabrina is a nightmare."

"She is," Marcus agreed easily. He reached out as if to touch my shoulder but stopped himself. "But she’s also right about one thing. You are a traitor to your pack. That makes you a target here. My brother’s protection only goes so far."

"I don't need his protection," I lied.

Marcus let out a soft huff of laughter. "Yes, you do. You’re twenty-three, Rowan. You’re alone in a pack that hates you. If it wasn't for us, you’d be dead. Do you understand that?"

I turned to face him, my jaw set. "I understand that I was traded from one executioner to two. You didn't save me because you’re kind, Marcus. You saved me because you want a child."

He didn't deny it. He just looked at me for a long time. "Stay in here for a while. It’s safer. I have some work to finish at the desk. I’ll stay here so the guards don't bother you."

I didn't thank him. I just turned back to the shelves. I started pulling books out at random, looking for anything to distract me. I moved deep into the back of the library, where the shelves were covered in thick dust. The books here looked like they hadn't been touched in decades.

One spine caught my eye. It was thick, bound in dark, cracked leather with no title on the front. I pulled it out, and a cloud of dust made me cough.

"What did you find?" Marcus asked from across the room.

"Just an old book," I called back.

I sat down on the floor, tucked away between two shelves where he couldn't see me clearly. I opened the book. The pages were yellowed and brittle, covered in cramped, handwritten script. It wasn't a standard history book. It looked more like a journal or a collection of legends.

I flipped through the pages, skipping over stories of old wars and pack disputes. Then, a word caught my eye.

Moon-bound.

My heart skipped a beat. I remembered hearing that word in whispers back at my old pack, but it was always treated like a myth. A fairy tale told to pups.

I leaned closer, squinting at the faded ink.

'The Moon-bound are not born of blood alone, but of the Goddess’s direct blessing. They are the wolves who change the tide. Unlike the common wolf, a Moon-bound female wolf holds the key to the soul-bond. She does not just mate; she is the anchor.'

I frowned, my fingers tracing the words. Anchor?

I kept reading, my breath hitching in my throat.

'When a Moon-bound wolf bears the seed of an Alpha, the bloodline is altered. The child born of such a union will not just be a leader; they will be a King. Their power will be above all others. They will be untouchable.'

The air in the library suddenly felt very thin. I looked back toward Marcus. He was sitting at the desk, his head down as he looked through some papers.

I turned the page.

'Because of this, the Moon-bound are often hunted. They are seen as prizes to be won or threats to be eliminated. To own a Moon-bound female is to own the future of the werewolf race.'

The words hit me like a physical blow. I thought back to the day of my execution. I remembered the way Julian and Marcus had looked at me. It wasn't pity. It wasn't even the look of men who had found a beautiful woman.

It was the look of men who had found a gold mine.

"Rowan?" Marcus called out. "You’ve been very quiet."

"I’m just reading, Marcus," I said, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears.

"What are you reading?"

"A story about the old wolves," I said quickly. I shoved the book under my skirt, hiding it. "It’s boring."

"Come here," he said. It wasn't a request.

I stood up, keeping the book pressed against my thigh under the fabric of my long dress. I walked slowly toward the desk. Marcus was watching me closely. He reached out and took my hand, pulling me into the space between his legs.

"You look pale," he murmured, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "Are you feeling sick?"

"I’m fine," I said, trying to pull my hand back. "I’m just tired."

"Julian was hard on you today," Marcus said, his baby-blue eyes searching mine. "He doesn't know how to handle someone like you. He’s used to women who bow down the moment he enters a room."

"And you?" I asked. "Are you used to women who bow down?"

Marcus smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I prefer it when they stand their ground. It makes the victory much sweeter."

He leaned in, his face inches from mine. I could feel the heat radiating off him. My wolf stirred, purring at his proximity, and I hated her for it. I hated that my body wanted the very men who were using me.

"You’re a mystery, Rowan Brooks," he whispered. "A girl from a small, nothing pack. Why were you so important that your own sister wanted you dead?"

"She hated me," I said, my voice a whisper. "That’s all."

"I don't think so," Marcus said. He trailed his fingers down my arm, his touch sending shivers through me. "I think there’s more to you than even you know."

He stood up, towering over me. He was so much larger than I was, a wall of muscle and Alpha authority. "It’s time for your check-up. The pack doctor is waiting in the medical wing."

"I don't need a doctor," I protested.

"It’s not an option," Marcus said, his voice turning firm. "We need to make sure you’re in peak condition. Every cycle matters."

He led me out of the library, his hand heavy on the small of my back. I felt the weight of the ancient book hidden against my leg with every step I took. It felt like it was burning through the fabric.

As we walked through the halls, I saw the way the other pack members looked at me. The women sneered, their eyes full of jealousy and contempt. The men looked at me like I was a piece of meat. I realized then that I wasn't just a prisoner of the twins. I was a prisoner of the entire Crescent Moon Pack.

We reached the medical wing, a sterile, white area that smelled of bleach. A middle-aged man in a white coat was waiting for us.

"Alpha Marcus," the doctor said, bowing his head. "And this must be the girl."

"Rowan," Marcus corrected him sharply. "Her name is Rowan."

"Of course," the doctor said, looking at me with clinical interest. "Please, sit on the table. We just need to run some blood tests and a few scans."

Marcus stayed in the room. He didn't leave, even when the doctor asked me to lift my sleeve. He watched every move the doctor made, his eyes focused and intense.

"Why are you staying?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"I like to stay informed," Marcus said simply.

The doctor took several vials of blood. I watched the red liquid fill the tubes, feeling a sense of dread. Were they looking for something specific? Did they already know what was in that book?

"Her hormone levels are optimal," the doctor noted, looking at a screen. "She should be ready for the next cycle. If we increase the frequency of the... activities... the chances of conception will rise significantly."

I felt a surge of nausea. They were talking about me like I was livestock. Like I wasn't even in the room.

"Good," Marcus said. "See to it that she gets the necessary vitamins."

Once the doctor was finished, Marcus led me back toward the residential wing. He didn't say a word, and neither did I. My mind was racing, replaying the words I had read in the library.

The anchor. The key to the soul-bond.

If what the book said was true, the twins didn't just save me for a child. They saved me for the kind of child I could produce. They wanted to be the most powerful Alphas in history. They wanted to be kings.

And I was the only way they could get there.