Claimed by My Stepbrothers

Tradition and Power

Saoirse

My heart thundered like a war drum the second Cyrus stepped in.

Hell no. He heard everything.

Two savage brothers? Two ruthless predators circling one helpless prey?

Yeah. I’m completely, utterly screwed.

Cain scoffs, running a hand through his hair as if none of this meant a damn thing. “You probably misheard, bro.”

Cyrus doesn’t smile. Doesn’t blink. Just pats Cain’s back like he’s steadying himself from committing murder. His eyes are glued to me, stripping me bare like he’s trying to find the part of me that still wants him — if there even is one.

“You call this protecting me from a dirt like her?” Cyrus says, voice like glass cracking under ice. “After everything you told me?”

Cain’s tone sharpens. “I told you you misheard it.”

Cyrus tilts his head, amused and boiling all at once. “No? Because marking a girl you don’t want sounds a hell of a lot like obsession to me.” He smirks, but it’s not playful — it’s the kind that hides a storm behind a smirk. His jaw tenses, and his eyes flick to my neck. Just once. But I catch it.

“You realize how humiliating this would be if it’s actually true?” he murmurs, voice tight like he’s forcing it to stay casual. “Like you said, we don’t even know her. And yet—”

He stops mid-sentence. His gaze lingers on me too long for someone who supposedly doesn’t care. There's something flickering in his eyes—curiosity? Disgust?

But Cain laughs—low and bitter—and steps forward, brushing past his brother just close enough to provoke.

“You’re the one obsessed with her,” Cain snaps, venom under every syllable. “Not me.”

He doesn't even look at me. That’s how I know he’s much he’s disgusted of me. And I don’t even know what to feel neither my wolf.

I was thinking too much and suddenly Cain speaks.

“So don’t twist it like I wanted to mark her out of desire.” He scoffs, pulling out his keys. “I’m going to the party. Alone. Before Father realizes we broke every rule he set. You can use your car if you wanna go too, you’re making your partner thirsty inside at the pack house.”

He storms off, but my body stays frozen — not because of him, but because Cyrus hasn’t moved an inch.

He watches me like a panther. Stalking. Calculating.

I try to walk past him, jaw clenched, pride shattered. But he grabs my wrist and pulls. Hard enough to send a spark running up my spine.

His voice is low. Dangerous. Flirtatiously cruel. "Going somewhere, sweetheart?"

I don’t answer. I don’t want him to see the tremble in my breath.

"Tell me," he murmurs, thumb brushing my pulse, "did he really mark you? Or are you just desperate to belong to someone so bad, you'll lie to keep his name on your skin?"

“You don’t know me,” I hiss.

"I want to." His voice is too calm. Too slow. Like he’s tasting every word. “You can’t just live in a pack where you don’t belong and expect to be that mysterious forever, huh?”

"Curiosity kills," I shoot back.

"Not me. I kill curiosity." His smirk is venomous. Sexy. Lethal. "So tell me. Why’s your neck still burning?"

I yank my wrist from his grasp. "Go to your damn party, Cyrus."

"I'd rather go to war." He steps closer, his breath skating over my jaw. "But it sucks, doesn't it? That he got to hurt you first. That he made you his little secret."

"You're both the same," I whisper. "Arrogant. Entitled. Cruel."

"Cruel?" He laughs, soft and sharp like a knife in velvet. "Darling, you haven’t even seen me hungry yet."

I shove him, fury and humiliation boiling over. “Jerk.”

“Say my name when you insult me.” His grin twists into something wicked. “It turns me on when you hate me properly.”

Gods, I want to slap him. I want to scream. I want to run.

But most of all—I want to stay.

Fight.

Hurt.

Flirt.

Cain marked me like a punishment.

Cyrus? He looks like he’d burn kingdoms just to get to make fun of me.

"You’re not worth the dirt under my boots," I snap, stepping away with all the dignity I can fake.

"Then why are you still trembling, Saoirse?"

He doesn't follow. He doesn’t need to.

His voice is the last thing I hear as I walk away:

"Happy boring birthday, Princess. Let’s hope your wolf finally wake up... or someone else might do it for you."

***

I didn’t even realize I was crying—

Not until I felt the wetness on my cheeks, not until my breath caught in my throat, lying on the cold sheets like grief itself was curling up beside me.

I’ve tried so hard to be strong. Tough. But tonight? It’s all breaking.

My fingers curl around the necklace Dad gave me—the only thing he left behind before everything went to hell. It still smells like him, like the forest and smoke and home.

And it sucks.

Gods, it sucks that I’m trapped in the same house as her. The woman he died protecting. The woman who pretends like he was just another name in the wind.

He fought so hard for a pack that never deserved him. And now? I'm stuck in this haunted place with her perfect sons, who treat me like a stain on their legacy.

Birthdays stopped being real the moment he stopped showing up for them.

They’re just… days now.

Painful ones. Empty ones.

And tonight? I thought it couldn’t get worse—until Cain and Cyrus reminded me just how unwanted I am.

But then—

My phone buzzes.

My heart literally skips.

Rhaziel.

The one boy who makes girls feel bitter every time he talks to another. The one who talked with me like I wasn’t invisible the first day I arrived at the academy.

I wipe my tears quickly. Hands trembling.

I open the message.

“What’s up, pretty? Where do you live? I wanna pick you up. Got a party with your name on it.”

Oh my goddess.

He doesn’t know. He has no idea I’m that girl—the scandal, the unknown, the one who just got her birthday gate-crashed by royal wolves.

And I don’t tell him.

I type my location. Not the pack house—hell no.

A spot close, but far enough to pretend I’m just a normal girl getting picked up by a hot guy for a good night.

I smile. For the first time tonight. But then—

knock knock knock.

My stomach drops.

“Risey? We need to talk,” my mom calls through the door.

I freeze.

Nope. Not tonight. Not after everything.

Thank goddess I locked it.

“I don’t know what happened,” she says, voice tighter now. “But I saw you with your brothers, and I know what they did.”

I look to the window. Then to the necklace in my hand.

Decision made.

I throw it around my neck, grab my coat, and push the window open. The air is cold. The sky is black velvet. And the world is mine again.

I don’t even hesitate. Because I’m not just some poor, wolfless girl anymore. I’m the girl who used to outrun rogues and steal prey in the woods and managed all of that without having a wolf with me. The one they underestimated.

I jump, land hard—

I glance around, and yeah—people are definitely buzzing. Whispers everywhere. Looks flying.

They're so talking about what went down.

“Dumbasses,” I mutter with a laugh, sprinting away from the pack house like I’m escaping a crime scene—technically, I kinda am.

I head straight for the spot I told Rhaziel to meet me. And praise the moon goddess, I get there first.

Not even a second later, a car pulls up—sleek, shiny, outrageously expensive.

No idea what brand it is. A dragon? A stallion? Whatever. I used to sleep in trees and wrestle feral rogues, not memorize car logos.

He steps out, slow and confident, eyes trailing down my figure like he’s savoring the view.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Well yeah, duh. I’m wearing the dress the omegas made me try while I was still hunting for the perfect one. It hugs all the right spots. I look expensive—and dangerous.

“Uhm… thanks,” I say, blinking like an i***t.

Then he actually walks over and opens the door for me like some prince from a rejected fairytale.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I mutter, flustered.

He flashes that heart-attack smile. “Well, I did. Because you’re my partner tonight.”

Partner?

My brain short-circuits.

No.

No no no.

Not that party.

Not the one Cain and Cyrus are attending.

But I don’t let it show. I just give him a sweet little smile and slide into the passenger seat like I wasn’t internally screaming. I click the seatbelt. Fake composed.

He gets in, starts the car, and of course it purrs like a freaking predator.

“This place isn’t far from the Blackthorne Palace,” he says casually. “Are you living close to—”

“No!” I interrupt so fast I almost choke.

“I… I mean, I worked in a restaurant near here. Met this she-wolf who let me crash with her, maybe? I don’t think it’s, like… Blackthorne territory though…” I’m rambling. Dying. I feel my voice wobble and peek at him.

He just grins like he sees right through me.

“Chill, Saoirse,” he says with a crooked smirk.

Ugh. He’s so handsome it hurts. That smug, lazy grin? Instant heart attack. And unlike Cain or Cyrus, he’s actually… nice?

“Who’s going to this party, anyway?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m about to bolt.

“Everyone at the academy,” he shrugs. “But you? You’re the only newbie in the elite rank. Because I like you.”

My jaw literally drops. I forget how lungs work. The air conditioner’s blasting, but I feel like I’m suffocating in my own skin.

“W-What?!” I yelp, turning to him like he just announced we’re getting married.

He chuckles, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Everything alright?” he teases.

I stare at him, eyes wide.

“You could literally have anyone, Rhaziel. Like—anyone. Why me? People are gonna talk. They’ll question everything—”

“And let them,” he says, voice cool as glass. “They don’t question me. The only time it gets messy is if it’s the Blackthornes who set rules because they’re really bloody, they set the rules of you’re automatically an outcast if you bring someone who’s not in your level.”

Then he glances at me, eyes gleaming like he’s letting me in on some royal secret.

“This party? It’s basically tradition at the academy, Saoirse. A flex, if you will,” he says smoothly. “It’s where we show power, status, who’s rising, who’s already ruling. It breaks rules we’re not supposed to touch—especially as future Princes.”

He leans back, smirking. “But what can they do? We’re the heirs. The next Alphas. Sooner or later, the rules bend for us.” He continued, “I could’ve picked anyone at my level. They all wanted a spot beside me tonight. But I didn’t want them.”

He leans just a little closer, voice velvet soft.

“I wanted you.”