Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by His Ruthless Brother

Chapter 2 The Ruthless Brother’s House

I should have said no.

A sane woman would have.

A sane woman would have looked at Kade Blackthorne—at the cold face, the scar along his jaw, the hard arm still braced around my waist—and remembered every whispered story the pack told about him.

He was too ruthless. Too violent. Too dangerous. Too much like a storm in human skin.

But sane women had not just been rejected under the moon in front of their entire pack.

So when he said, “Come with me,” I didn’t say no.

I said nothing.

And somehow that was answer enough.

Kade’s grip shifted—not tighter, not gentler, just certain. He turned us deeper into the trees, away from the ceremonial clearing, away from the voices and the humiliation and the place where Liam had broken me in white silk.

My dress dragged through leaves and dirt.

My shoes were gone. I had no memory of losing them.

Every step hurt.

The moonlight spilled between the branches in silver strips, catching on Kade’s shoulders and the sharp line of his profile as he moved beside me. He did not speak. He did not ask if I trusted him.

Good.

Because I didn’t.

Not fully.

Not yet.

But my body was betraying me in smaller, more irritating ways.

Like the way my breathing steadied when he stayed close.

Like the way my pulse no longer felt quite so wild with his hand at my side.

Like the way some broken, exhausted part of me had already decided that if I had to fall apart, I would rather do it somewhere that didn’t have Liam’s voice in it.

The forest path sloped downward.

I stumbled once.

Kade caught me before my knees hit the ground.

Again.

He let out a low, displeased sound. “Can you walk?”

The answer was no.

Obviously no.

My feet were cut from roots and stone, my legs were shaking, and my body was still reeling from the kind of rejection that should have come with its own funeral rite.

So naturally I said, “Yes.”

His eyes cut to me.

Even in moonlight, I could feel the force of them.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Then stop asking questions you already know the answer to.”

A tiny pause.

Then—unexpectedly—the corner of his mouth moved.

Not a smile.

Worse.

The beginning of one.

That should not have made my stomach flutter.

Absolutely not.

I blamed the shock.

The pain.

The blood loss from my pride.

Before I could decide whether to be insulted, he bent and lifted me.

Just like that.

One arm under my knees, the other at my back, as if I weighed nothing and had no say in the matter.

My breath caught hard enough to hurt.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving time.”

“I can walk.”

“No.”

There it was again.

That blunt, infuriating certainty.

I glared up at him. “You really don’t know how to ask permission, do you?”

His gaze stayed ahead on the path. “I know how. I simply saw no strategic value in it.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

Then, despite everything, a broken little laugh escaped me.

It sounded wrong in the forest.

Too soft for a night like this.

Kade glanced down at me.

The look in his eyes changed for half a second.

Not softer.

Just… less hard.

That was somehow worse.

“Don’t do that,” I muttered.

“Do what?”

“Look at me like you’re trying to understand me.”

His arms tightened slightly as he stepped over a fallen branch. “Then stop saying things worth understanding.”

I should have had a sharper answer for that.

Instead I looked away.

Because the truth was, I was too tired.

Too hurt.

Too dangerously aware of the fact that I was in another man’s arms less than an hour after being rejected by his brother.

No.

Not another man.

Kade.

That made it more complicated somehow.

The trees thinned.

Ahead, lights appeared between the branches—low, warm, gold against the dark.

His house.

I had never been there.

Everyone in the pack knew where it was, of course. A large stone house at the edge of Blackthorne territory, far enough from the main pack compound to feel like a warning, close enough that no one ever forgot who it belonged to.

It was the kind of house men built when they did not want company but still expected obedience.

The front porch lamps were already on.

A black truck sat to one side.

The windows glowed softly.

And when Kade carried me up the steps, the front door opened before he touched it.

A woman in her fifties stood there, straight-backed and silver-haired, wearing a dark cardigan and an expression that suggested she had seen bloodier nights and liked all of them better than this one.

Her eyes dropped to me first.

To the dress.

To the mud.

To the tears I had clearly failed to wipe away well enough.

Then they lifted to Kade.

“What happened?”

Kade did not slow. “Liam happened.”

The woman’s face changed.

Not surprise.

Not exactly.

Recognition.

Anger shaped into patience.

“I see.”

No further questions.

Interesting.

She stepped aside immediately.

Kade carried me into a house that smelled like cedar, smoke, and clean linen. The inside was warm, dim, and unexpectedly beautiful—dark wood, low light, stone walls, thick rugs. It should have felt masculine to the point of aggression.

Instead it felt… quiet.

Guarded.

Like the whole place had been built not for show, but for retreat.

That should not have suited him as well as it did.

“Upstairs,” he said.

The woman nodded once. “I’ll bring the kit.”

Kit?

My head turned weakly toward him. “What kit?”

“You’re bleeding.”

I froze.

Then looked down.

My feet, my palms, the scrape along one knee where I had fallen in the forest. Small cuts. Dirt. Smudged blood.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing fatal.

Still.

The sight of it made something in me go cold.

Because it was proof.

Proof that tonight had really happened.

I looked away.

Kade carried me up the stairs.

The bedroom he brought me to was large without being ridiculous. Dark walls. Wide bed. Clean lines. A single lamp on the bedside table throwing amber light across the room. No softness anywhere except in the things that mattered—a thick blanket folded at the foot of the bed, a chair by the window, a tray already set out with water and a glass.

It looked exactly like him.

Controlled.

Severe.

And made more human by the details he probably didn’t notice anyone noticing.

He set me down gently on the edge of the bed.

That irritated me more than if he had done it roughly.

Because it meant he was choosing care.

And I didn’t know what to do with care from a Blackthorne brother.

“I’m fine,” I said.

The woman appeared in the doorway with a metal box, folded towels, and a bowl of warm water.

She gave me one look and said, “No, you’re not.”

I stared at her.

She stared right back.

Then set the supplies on the dresser like she had no time for my dignity.

“Kade,” she said without turning, “out.”

He did not move.

My pulse jumped.

The woman turned her head just enough to fix him with a look sharp enough to draw blood.

“She’s covered in mud, shaking, and wearing enough heartbreak to poison a room. Out.”

For one absurd second, I thought he might refuse.

Then his jaw tightened.

He looked at me once.

Just once.

And something unreadable passed through his expression before he stepped back toward the door.

“If she tries to lie about being fine,” he said to the woman, “ignore her.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m still here, in case either of you forgot.”

The woman snorted.

Kade’s mouth moved at the corner.

Again, not quite a smile.

Then he left.

The door stayed open.

Interesting.

The woman turned to me and held out a towel. “Start with your face.”

I took it automatically.

She began kneeling in front of me to inspect my feet.

“No,” I said at once.

She paused.

I swallowed. “I can do it myself.”

Her face softened by a fraction. “Pride is a lovely quality. Less useful with splinters.”

I almost said something sharp.

Then my entire body shook once, hard enough to embarrass me, and whatever fight I had left folded in on itself.

She saw it.

Of course she saw it.

“Ah,” she said quietly. “There you are.”

That should not have nearly made me cry again.

I pressed the towel to my face instead.

The tears came anyway.

Silent this time.

Hot.

The woman did not react dramatically. She did not offer pity. She simply sat back on her heels and waited until the worst of it passed through me.

When I finally lowered the towel, she handed me the water glass.

“Drink.”

I did.

My hand shook against the glass.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She gave one small nod. “I’m Mara.”

I blinked. “You live here?”

“I keep the house standing and the man fed.” A pause. “Which is a more difficult job than it sounds.”

That startled a real laugh out of me.

Mara’s eyes sharpened with something like approval.

“Better,” she said.

Then she reached for my foot with clean hands and a gentleness that somehow hurt more than roughness would have.

I winced.

She made a displeased sound toward the cuts. “You walked through half the forest.”

“Apparently.”

“And cried through the other half, if the state of your face is any indication.”

That should have been humiliating.

Instead it felt oddly safe.

Maybe because her tone held no judgment.

Only fact.

“Did the whole house hear?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Mara glanced up at me. “About the ceremony?”

I nodded once.

Her mouth flattened. “By now the whole region has.”

Right.

Of course.

The shame came back fresh.

Raw.

Like Liam’s rejection had somehow found new teeth just to bite deeper.

Mara must have seen something on my face, because she said, more quietly, “Pack gossip burns fast.”

“That doesn’t mean it hurts less.”

“No,” she said. “It doesn’t.”

She cleaned the scrapes in silence after that. Wrapped one foot, then the other. Pressed a cool cloth into my hands for my palms. Found a long T-shirt folded on the dresser and set it beside me without comment.

“You can wash up in there.” She pointed to the bathroom. “I’ll have tea sent up.”

I stared at the shirt. “Why is there women’s clothing in his room?”

Mara gave me a look over her shoulder as she packed the kit.

“It isn’t women’s clothing.”

I looked at the shirt again.

Fair.

Then the question hit me properly.

“Wait. Has he brought women here before?”

That made Mara pause.

Her brows lifted slightly.

Then, with deliberate calm, “Not one he carried in looking like murder had just happened.”

Heat flashed across my face for reasons I deeply resented.

Mara saw that too.

Apparently everyone in this house noticed everything.

Wonderful.

She stood, collected the bowl, and moved to the door.

Then stopped.

“Whatever else tonight was,” she said without turning, “it was not the end of you.”

And then she left.

The room went very still.

I sat there for a long time after the door closed.

Long enough for the water in the glass to stop trembling.

Long enough for the silence to settle.

Long enough for Liam’s face to come back to me with merciless clarity.

I reject you.

Before the moon. Before the pack. Before my family.

My chest tightened again.

I stood too fast, grabbed the shirt, and disappeared into the bathroom before grief could fully catch up.

The mirror was cruel.

Mascara streaks.

Hair falling out of its pins.

Eyes swollen.

Lips pale.

The white dress looked destroyed.

Good.

So was I.

I peeled it off carefully, dropped it to the tile floor, and stood there for one second in my slip staring at the wreckage pooled around my feet.

That dress had once been hope.

Now it looked like surrender.

I hated it.

I turned on the tap and scrubbed my face until my skin stung.

Washed the dirt from my hands.

Tried not to think.

Failed.

Every thought came back to Liam.

To Selene.

To the sound in the clearing when everyone realized what was happening and no one stopped it.

My throat tightened.

Then another thought rose beneath the pain.

Kade.

The look on his face when I said Liam had rejected me.

The anger.

The kind that hadn’t seemed performative or polite or even entirely sane.

That was the part that stayed with me.

Not because I wanted it to.

Because my body had recognized it before my mind could argue.

He had been furious for me.

No one had ever looked at my pain like it deserved violence in response.

That should have frightened me more.

Maybe it would tomorrow.

I put on the oversized shirt and stepped back into the bedroom.

Kade was there.

Of course he was.

He stood by the window with his back half-turned, one hand braced against the frame, his dark shirt stretched across broad shoulders. He must have heard me come out because he looked over immediately.

And then stopped.

I froze too.

The shirt hung to mid-thigh on me. My hair was loose and damp around my face. I had no shoes, no pride, and apparently no sense, because the second his eyes moved over me in one slow, unreadable sweep, heat rushed into my face.

His jaw tightened.

“Sit,” he said.

There was something strange in his voice.

Rougher than before.

I sat.

Mostly because standing there under that look felt impossible.

He crossed the room with deliberate control, carrying a tray I hadn’t noticed before. Tea. Bread. A small bowl of stew. Another glass of water.

“You’re not my jailer,” I muttered.

“No,” he said. “If I were, you’d have eaten already.”

I stared at him.

Then, against all logic, snorted.

He set the tray down on the bedside table.

I watched his hands.

Large. Scarred. Steady.

Not Liam’s hands.

That thought landed oddly.

“What?” he asked without looking up.

I looked away immediately. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Everyone in this house says that.”

“Because you keep doing it.”

I glared at him. “You’re all very annoying.”

That earned me a faint exhale through his nose.

Almost amusement.

Then he handed me the tea.

I took it.

Our fingers brushed.

And the reaction was instant.

A sharp, electric jolt that made my breath catch for one humiliating second.

Kade felt it too.

I knew because his hand went still.

Not long.

Just long enough to matter.

His eyes lifted to mine.

The room changed.

Not because of what happened.

Because of how clearly neither of us pretended it hadn’t.

I set the tea down too quickly.

“What was that?” I asked.

Kade’s expression shut down with brutal efficiency. “You’re exhausted.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting tonight.”

Infuriating.

And somehow more alarming because it meant he had a better one and refused to say it.

I reached for the bread just to have something to do with my hands.

He sat in the chair across from the bed.

Not too close.

Not far enough.

“So,” I said, because silence with him was beginning to feel like standing too close to a cliff edge, “what now?”

His gaze stayed on me.

“You stay here tonight.”

I blinked.

That was not a suggestion.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going back to the pack compound.”

Anger sparked through the fatigue. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“No?”

“No.”

His expression did not move. “You plan to return to the same people who watched you get rejected and did nothing?”

That hit.

Hard.

I hated that it hit.

“My mother is there.”

“Then she can come here tomorrow.”

I stared at him.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“That is insane.”

“So was what Liam did.”

We looked at each other across the room.

And suddenly I understood that Kade Blackthorne did not handle pain the way most people did.

He did not soothe it.

He took aim at it.

That should have made me back away.

Instead it made me feel something more dangerous.

Seen.

No.

Absolutely not.

I took a sip of tea to buy myself time.

It was warm. Strong. Sweet enough to steady my shaking hands.

Kade watched me drink it like he was making sure I actually did.

Again: infuriating.

Again: oddly grounding.

“What happened after I left?” I asked.

His face went flat.

“Chaos.”

“Specific.”

The corner of his mouth moved once. “Demanding for someone in my bed.”

I nearly choked on the tea.

“This is not—”

“I’m aware of what it is.”

“Are you?”

His eyes darkened by a degree I did not like noticing.

Too late.

He leaned back in the chair, one ankle over the other, all long lines and impossible composure.

“Liam tried to continue the ceremony.”

My head jerked up. “What?”

“For Selene.”

Rage exploded through me so suddenly I had to set the cup down.

“He what?”

Kade’s voice stayed cold. “The Elder refused. Public rejection under the moon was already enough disgrace for one night.”

I laughed once, sharp and ugly.

Of course.

Of course Liam had wanted to replace me in the same clearing, under the same moon, with everyone still watching.

A fresh wave of humiliation hit me so hard it blurred my vision.

Kade saw it.

Again.

He stood before I realized he had moved.

Then he was in front of me.

Too close.

“Don’t,” he said quietly.

I looked up at him, furious. “Don’t what?”

“Break again over a man who isn’t worth the damage.”

That did it.

I stood so fast the tea nearly spilled.

“You don’t get to tell me how long I’m allowed to hurt!”

His face hardened instantly. “I’m not telling you not to hurt. I’m telling you he doesn’t deserve the kind that destroys you.”

The room went dead still.

We were close now.

Too close.

My heart was hammering for reasons that had nothing to do with Liam and everything to do with the way Kade was looking at me like I was both wounded and dangerous.

I swallowed hard. “You say that like it’s simple.”

“No,” he said. “I say it like it’s necessary.”

My eyes burned.

God, I was tired of crying.

Tired of feeling.

Tired of being the weak one in every room.

I turned away from him.

Big mistake.

The second I moved, my knee buckled.

Kade caught me before I fell.

Again.

This time his hands landed on my waist and stayed there.

Firm.

Warm.

Certain.

My breath caught.

He did not let go.

I did not step back.

That was the first truly dangerous thing either of us did tonight.

I looked up slowly.

He was close enough that I could see the darker ring around his irises. Close enough that the scar on his jaw no longer looked frightening so much as intimate. Close enough that if I leaned forward even slightly, my mouth would brush the front of his shirt.

The thought landed like heat.

Wrong.

This was wrong.

I had been rejected by his brother an hour ago.

Maybe less.

My humiliation was still fresh on my skin.

And yet standing in Kade Blackthorne’s hands felt less like falling apart and more like being held together by force.

He looked down at me.

Not at my mouth.

Not that I noticed.

Definitely not.

“You need sleep,” he said.

My voice came out rougher than I intended. “That sounds like an order.”

“It is.”

I should have argued.

Instead I whispered, “You really are ruthless.”

Something shifted in his face.

Then his hands loosened—slowly, like it cost him something to let go.

Before either of us could say anything more, footsteps pounded up the stairs.

Fast.

Furious.

The air in the room changed instantly.

Kade turned toward the door before the first knock even landed.

It didn’t really count as a knock.

More like someone trying not to break the wood down.

“Kade!”

Liam.

Of course.

Of course the night was not done humiliating me.

My whole body went rigid.

Kade looked back at me once.

The expression on his face had gone flat in a way that suddenly made every story I had ever heard about him feel very believable.

“Stay here,” he said.

Then he went to the door.

I should have stayed where I was.

I should have.

Instead I moved silently after him and stopped just out of sight, near enough to hear every word.

Kade opened the door.

Liam stood there, chest heaving, ceremonial black still on his body, rage all over his face.

The second he saw Kade, he snarled, “Where is she?”

Kade did not blink. “Who?”

Liam took one step forward. “Don’t play games with me. Ariana left the clearing. People saw you go after her.”

My breath caught.

Kade’s voice stayed calm. “And?”

“And?” Liam’s face twisted. “She is my mate.”

Silence.

Cold.

Deadly.

Then Kade said, “Funny. That’s not the impression you gave the entire pack tonight.”

Even through the half-open door, I could feel Liam’s fury spike.

“I rejected her in ceremony,” he snapped. “That does not mean you get to touch what’s mine.”

The world stopped.

Again.

Not because of Liam.

Because of Kade.

Because something in the air went so still it felt like the whole house had locked itself from the inside.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet enough to terrify.

“You should leave before you say something even stupider.”

Liam laughed harshly. “You think I don’t see what this is? You’ve always looked at things you shouldn’t have.”

My pulse stumbled.

What?

Kade took one step into the hallway.

Just one.

But it was enough to make Liam stop.

“I’m going to say this once,” Kade said. “You rejected her under the moon. Publicly. Cruelly. You do not come to my door after that and speak about her like property.”

Liam’s breathing turned ragged with anger.

“She belongs to this pack.”

Kade’s answer came like a blade.

“No. She belonged to your bond. And you broke it.”

Silence detonated in the hallway.

I could barely breathe.

Because Liam had gone still.

And because Kade was standing in front of his own brother like a wall.

Not performing.

Not posturing.

Drawing a line.

Liam’s voice dropped. “You’re choosing her over me?”

Kade’s face did not change.

“I’m correcting your mistake.”

The words hit every surface in the house.

My heartbeat.

The doorway.

The ruined place inside me where Liam’s rejection was still bleeding.

I don’t know what showed on my face.

Whatever it was, thank God neither of them could see it.

Liam laughed again, but it sounded thinner now. Wilder.

“You can’t keep her here.”

Kade’s answer was immediate.

“Watch me.”