Claimed Under The Mistletoe: The Triplet Alphas' Destiny

Chapter 17

Jordan

I stared at Derrick, who still looked like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to talk to Olivia or pin me to the couch and kiss me breathless. His eyes kept flicking back to me, wolf-bright and warm, but his jaw was tight, coiled with control.

"Derrick," I said firmly, nodding toward Olivia who sat on the far end of the sofa, arms crossed, gaze distant. "Focus. You came here to get information. Not drool over me."

He blinked like I’d slapped him, then cleared his throat and tried to school his face into something resembling professionalism. "Right. Yes. Of course."

I folded my arms across my chest and arched a brow. "You suck at lying."

He grinned a little. "Only when you're this close."

I narrowed my eyes. Goddess, he was irritating. And distractingly hot.

He stepped toward Olivia, gentling his tone. "Olivia, I know this isn’t easy. But anything you can tell me about your time in the brothel might help us stop this from happening to others. We need to understand how they operate."

Olivia shifted uncomfortably. "I can't say much. The Alpha's order... it's like a collar around my throat. I can only hint."

Derrick glanced at me, concerned, but I just nodded. "We know. Just listen. She’ll do what she can."

But even as he turned back to Olivia, I saw it. That sideways glance, the way his hand kept brushing the back of the couch near my shoulder. His attention drifted to me again and again like he couldn’t help it.

I lost my temper.

"This is bigger than us, Derrick," I snapped. "Gwen is alone in that house with monsters. There are Omegas still being trafficked. And you’re acting like you’ve got all the time in the world to flirt and play house."

His expression didn’t harden. It softened.

Derrick crossed the room in three strides, cupping my face in his hands before I could pull away. "Jordan, I know. I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to ignore what just happened between us. You're my mate. And you're cracking. I can feel it."

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes and I hated them for it. I hadn’t cried since Gwen was taken. Not once.

"I don’t have time to fall apart," I whispered.

"Then let me help you hold it together," he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. His voice dropped lower. "You don’t have to carry this alone anymore."

And something inside me gave.

I let him hold me.

And I realized maybe… maybe having him here wasn’t the end of the world.

Maybe it was the beginning of something I didn’t know I needed.

Derrick

Even with Jordan so close, my instincts were screaming something else — Olivia.

I forced myself to focus as I sat down opposite her, watching the way her fingers fidgeted in her lap, how her eyes darted but never met mine. Her body language screamed trauma, but there was something more — like she was trying to share a secret through sheer will alone.

"You were in the brothel a long time," I said gently.

She nodded slowly. "Long enough to forget my own scent. They drugged us. Changed how we smelled. Made it easier for the Alphas who came through."

I kept my tone steady. "Can you tell me how many were involved?"

She shook her head. "Not like that. I can’t list names or numbers. Not with the Alpha command still in place. But… look for the ones who never bring their Omegas to public events. Look for the ones who always have excuses."

My stomach turned.

"What about Karl?"

Her eyes went cold. "He’s not the only one. But he was the worst."

The way she said it — hollow and sharp — sent chills down my spine. I glanced back toward Jordan. Her arms were wrapped around herself now, posture rigid with barely-contained fury. My wolf wanted to go to her, to soothe her, to touch her skin until the storm faded from her eyes.

But I couldn’t — not yet.

I turned back to Olivia. "Anything else?"

"The bracelets," she said softly. "Some Alphas wore them. To hide their scent. Or to scramble it. So their mates wouldn’t know what they really were."

That sent a spike of cold fury down my spine.

"Thank you," I told her quietly. "You’ve helped more than you know."

And then I crossed the room — not to flee the horrors she’d painted, but because I couldn’t stay away from Jordan a second longer.

Her scent steadied my pulse.

Her presence grounded me.

And I realized I’d go to war for her, if she asked.

Even if she never did.

Jordan

Later, after Olivia had gone back to her room, I stood in the kitchen nursing a glass of water, still shaken by her words, by everything.

The house felt too quiet. Too still. The silence made the ache in my chest louder.

I didn’t hear Derrick come in. But I felt him.

His presence wrapped around me before he even touched me.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice low and rough, full of concern and something else—something deeper.

I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know how to. I just stared down into my glass like it might hold an answer.

"I don’t know what to do with you," I finally admitted, the words slipping out before I could censor them.

He moved closer, slow and deliberate, until he was standing behind me. His hands hovered just above my hips, not touching yet, giving me the space to pull away.

But I didn’t.

"Then don’t do anything," he said gently, his breath brushing the shell of my ear. "Let me handle it. Just for tonight."

I turned to face him. And gods help me, the look in his eyes nearly brought me to my knees.

Hunger, yes—but tenderness too. A patience I didn’t expect.

His hand rose to my cheek, thumb brushing the curve of my jaw. I leaned into the touch without thinking.

"You’ve been holding it all together for so long," he murmured. "Let me hold you for a while."

His lips found mine in a soft, lingering kiss—nothing rushed, nothing demanding. Just a slow, reverent kind of claiming that made my knees go weak.

He kissed me again, deeper this time, tongue flicking lightly against mine, his hand sliding into my hair while the other found the small of my back and pulled me flush to his chest.

I clung to his shirt, fisting the fabric, pulling him closer. Every inch of me felt wired with need. Raw. Starving.

Derrick kissed me like he had all night to learn my mouth, and maybe he did. His teeth grazed my lower lip, then soothed the sting with a gentle suck that made my breath catch.

When we finally broke apart, I was panting. So was he.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

He smiled, just a little. "Didn’t think so."

His hands slid under the hem of my shirt, palms gliding up my ribs, thumbs brushing the curve of my breasts with just enough pressure to make me gasp.

"You're so responsive," he said, voice thick with appreciation. "Every little sound you make drives me wild."

I wanted to snark back. I really did. But then he leaned in and kissed the hollow beneath my ear, and my brain stopped working.

I backed into the counter without realizing it, the cool granite against my thighs a stark contrast to the heat coiling low in my belly.

He kissed a slow path down my neck, each press of his mouth sending shivers through me.

Then he dropped to his knees.

My breath hitched as he kissed the skin just above the waistband of my shorts, his hands resting lightly on my hips.

But he didn’t tug them down yet.

Instead, he kissed the inside of my thigh, then the other, each touch patient, reverent, like he had nowhere else to be.

"Derrick," I whispered, voice wrecked with need.

Only then did he stand, lift me onto the counter, and slip his fingers beneath my waistband.

I arched into him, moaning softly as he found me—wet, aching, ready.

His fingers moved slowly at first, deliberately, stroking me in just the right rhythm. He kissed me as he touched me, his other hand braced on my thigh to keep me open for him.

The pressure built, tight and bright and unbearable, until I shattered against him, gasping into his shoulder.

He held me through it, whispering quiet praise against my neck, his breath warm and uneven.

When my body finally went still, his forehead rested against mine.

"Bedroom?" he asked gently, fingers still laced with mine.

I nodded, breathless. "Yeah."

And together, we crossed that line.