Claimed By A Father And Son

Are You Hurt?

~Elena~

And then I heard him.

“That’s enough.”

Just two words. That was all it took. But the way he said it? Oh my Moon Goddess. It was like someone slammed the mute button on the entire universe.

Silence.

Straight-up, deadass, fear-of-God silence.

Like the type of silence where even the kids who were fighting in the back row suddenly remembered their manners and sat up like church mice.

Like the type of silence where your ancestors stop sipping tea in heaven and lean forward like, “Oop. That’s the voice of a man who’s about to commit a felony.”

Because that voice didn’t yell.

It didn’t bark.

It didn’t even raise a decibel.

Lucian was walking forward.

Correction: Lucian was prowling forward like a whole damn beast who just smelled blood. His steps. I swear I could hear the floor whispering, “Please don’t break me, sir.” His jaw was locked tighter than a chastity belt. His golden eyes? Glowing like someone just poured gasoline on his soul and lit a match.

My wolf practically lost bladder control.

(He is about to wreck her entire lineage. Look at him. Look at our mate. That’s our man. That’s Daddy Destruction right there. I want to purr and bite something at the same time.)

Veronica’s hand dropped from my hair like it suddenly realized it was unemployed. She straightened like she wasn’t just yanking my scalp out five seconds ago and smiled like a guilty toddler who just knocked over a pot of soup and blamed the wind.

“Alpha…” she started in that fake sweet voice that girls use when they know their ass is grass.

Lucian didn’t even blink.

“Shut. Up.”

Boom.

She shut up.

I shut up.

Even my wolf shut up. And she never shuts up.

Lucian stepped past the extension lying on the floor like evidence in a murder case and knelt beside me. His eyes didn’t look at my blood. Or my torn lip. Or the slight shake in my hands. He looked at me. Right into me. Like his whole body was vibrating on a frequency called Elena Only.

“Elena,” he said.

“Are you hurt?”

Okay. Look.

I know I’m supposed to be strong. I know I’m supposed to stand up and roar and shift and throw this girl across the room like a boss b***h.

But the way he said my name?

I almost passed out.

I think my uterus clapped.

I think my wolf got pregnant.

(I would like to thank the Moon Goddess, my ancestors, and everyone who ever bullied me for preparing me for this moment. I want to bark. I want to roll over. I want to do a backflip and land in his lap. Mate voice activated.)

“I…” I stuttered like a damn i***t, wiping my lip with the back of my hand. “She tried to rip my hairline into a new dimension, so yeah, I’m a little hurt.”

Lucian’s jaw ticked.

He stood.

And the room froze again.

He turned to Veronica like a final boss unlocking his last level. His expression didn’t change. It didn’t have to. Veronica took one step back. Then another. She looked like she was about to pee in public.

“You touched her,” Lucian said, and his voice was lower than before.“You dragged her. You insulted her. You humiliated her in front of me. And worst of all—” he took one deadly step toward her “—you lied on my name.”

I swear Veronica shrunk three inches.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she stammered. “It was a misunderstanding—”

“Do I look like I misunderstood you?” he asked.

“What the hell, Lucian?” Veronica snapped, her voice pitchy and sharp and very much giving unhinged reality TV villain who just realized the cameras caught everything. “What the actual f**k is wrong with you? You’re picking her over me? Over me? Because of this thick little slut who’s trying to take you away from me?”

The hall collectively sucked in a breath like we were watching a season finale and somebody just threw wine on a silk dress.

My eyebrows flew upward so fast they almost vacated my face.

(My wolf gasped.)

(Excuse you. Thick is a compliment. Slut is inaccurate. We have standards. Barely. But still.)

Veronica took a dramatic step toward Lucian, one hand on her chest like she might faint if he did not immediately apologize for wounding her pride.

“She was grinding her p***y on your pants,” she continued, pointing at me like I was a crime scene. “I saw it. Everyone saw it. Don’t stand there and pretend she doesn’t know exactly what she was doing. She’s been throwing herself at you. This is how Omegas climb anyway. Acting innocent while rubbing themselves all over powerful men.”

Oh.

Oh no.

She did not just unlock this level of delusion in public.

My wolf started pacing so hard inside my head I swear I felt claw marks on my skull.

(Say the word. I will jump her. I will jump her so fast the Elders will forget their own names. She is projecting. Hard.)

Lucian did not raise his voice. He did not flinch. He did not so much as blink. He folded his arms slowly across his chest and looked at Veronica like she was something sticky he had accidentally stepped in and now had to scrape off his shoe.

“First of all,” he said calmly, terrifyingly calmly, “no one grinds on me unless I allow it. Second of all, Elena did not touch me. She fought me. In a ring. With witnesses. Third of all—” his eyes hardened “—you do not get to speak about her body like it belongs to you. Or anyone.”

Veronica laughed. She actually laughed, high and fake and bitter. “Oh please,” she sneered. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. She was all over you, breathing all heavy, pressing herself against you. I know a heat-crazed Omega when I see one. She wants to trap you with her body. That’s literally all they’re good for.”

I felt something snap.

Not shift-snap. Not rage-snap.

But that very specific emotional snap where your dignity picks itself up, dusts off its skirt, and says, Alright b***h. We’re done playing nice.

(My wolf clapped.)

(Yes. Yes. Rise. That’s our spine growing back. Finally.)

Lucian lowered his arms and stepped closer to Veronica. He towered over her now, his presence swallowing her space so completely she had to tilt her head back to look at him. “You do not smell a heat. You smell jealousy,”. “And since we’re being honest, you also smell like fear.”

Veronica scoffed, but her voice wavered. “You’re really going to humiliate me like this? For her? After everything we’ve been building?”

I let out a sound. I did not mean to. It came out halfway between a laugh and a cough.

Lucian turned slightly, his gaze flicking down to me. “Do you want to say something?” he asked.

Oh.

Did I.

I pushed myself fully upright, ignoring the sting in my scalp and the blood drying on my lip. I tilted my head and smiled at Veronica sweetly. Dangerously sweetly. The type of smile your grandmother gives right before she disowns someone.

“First of all,” I said, matching her tone but sharper, “you do not own his eyes, his body, or his future. Second of all, if grinding on pants was enough to steal an Alpha, the pack would’ve fallen apart years ago. Third of all—” I pointed down at her head “—maybe if you spent less time planning monologues and more time securing your relationship, we wouldn’t be here.”

The crowd reacted instantly.

Gasps.

Laughs.

Someone whispered, “Oh she’s dead.”

My wolf howled with delight.

(Yes. Speak. Dig the grave. Hand her the shovel.)

Veronica’s face went red, then white, then red again. “You think you’re clever?” she hissed. “You think playing innocent will fool him? I see what you are. You’re just an Omega who got lucky.”

I stepped closer.

Slowly.

Intentionally.

“Lucky?” I repeated softly. “No. Lucky is surviving today. And you should thank him for that.”

Lucian’s hand appeared at my back, warm and firm, grounding me. Claiming space without needing to say it.

Veronica noticed.

Her eyes flicked to where his hand rested.

And for the first time?

She looked unsure.

(My wolf leaned in.)

(She sees it. The bond. She feels it. She lost.)

Lucian spoke again, his tone final. “This conversation is over. You will apologize. You will leave. And you will never speak to her like that again.”

Veronica swallowed.

Opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Turned around.

And walked away.

The second she disappeared, the hall exploded into noise again.

And my wolf stretched smugly inside my head.

(See? Told you. We’re a problem now.)

“Elena,” he said quietly, as if the world wasn’t on fire around us, “are you okay?”

I blinked.

Then I blinked again.

And then, finally, the rage that had been boiling in my chest exploded so hard I almost caught fire from the inside out.

“Oh, f**k you, Lucian,” I snapped. “Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

Lucian’s brow furrowed, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to explain something, but I wasn’t done.

Nope.

Not even close.

“Don’t,” I growled, stepping back and holding up a hand like his stupid hot face was physically offensive. “Just don’t. Stay the hell away from me. And while you’re at it? Put a f*****g leash on that rabid girlfriend of yours before I do it myself with her own damn hair.”

“She’s not—”

“I don’t f*****g care, Lucian!” I shouted, and every single voice in the room shut up at once like the Moon Goddess herself told them to. “I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend, your ex, your side chick, or some stray wolf you rescued from a shelter. What I do care about is the fact that I was just assaulted, humiliated, dragged like a sack of potatoes in front of half the pack, and you let it happen!”

“Elena—”

“No. No more. This is supposed to be my first year here. First year. And guess what? I’ve already been slapped, dragged, slut-shamed, insulted, accused of seducing someone I didn’t even want to grind on, and now I’m apparently part of some ridiculous mating triangle with a girl who looks like she eats baby squirrels for breakfast.”

My wolf nodded aggressively in my head, tail lashing.

(She does look like she eats squirrels. And birds. And sanity.)

I was breathing hard now. Like fight-or-flight hard. My eyes were burning. My scalp still stung. And every single part of me wanted to shift and disappear or scream into a pillow until I passed out.

“I didn’t come here for this,” I said, voice shaking. “I came here to learn. To train. To prove myself. Not to get caught in some testosterone-filled Alpha soap opera where girls are fighting over d**k like it’s the last slice of mooncake on mating day.”

Lucian’s mouth was set in a tight line, but he still didn’t move.

And that pissed me off even more.

“So do me a favor, Alpha Lucian,” I said, spitting his title like it was poison. “Stay the hell away from me. And if you ever come near me again without a damn apology and a muzzle for that banshee, I will knee you in the balls so hard you shift into a soprano.”

The crowd made a collective noise that sounded like a mix of “ooooh,” “holy s**t,” and “she really just said that.”

And then?

I turned.

I didn’t wait for him to respond.

I didn’t care.

I grabbed my bag, yanked what was left of my pride off the floor.