Page 1 of Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed

Chapter 1

Consciousness returned like asledgehammer to the face. Everything hurt. Even my eyelashes hurt, which I didn’t think was anatomically possible.

“Ugh,” I groaned into something warm and furry. “Did anyone get the license plate of that werewolf pack that ran me over?”

A wet nose pressed against my cheek in response. I cracked open one eye to find Shadow’s massive head looming over me, his dark eyes somehow managing to look both concerned and amused. Storm was sprawled across my legs like a weighted blanket made of muscle and fur, while Scout had apparently claimed the entire right side of the bed, leaving me a sliver of mattress that I was barely clinging to.

“So,” I said, scratching behind Shadow’s ears, “was the whole ‘my crushes are actually wolf shifters’ thing a dream, or did that actually happen?”

Scout’s tail thumped against the mattress in what felt suspiciously like confirmation.

“Great. Fantastic. Wonderful.” I tried to sit up, which was a mistake of epic proportions. Every muscle screamed in protest, and Iflopped back with a whimper. “Oh God, everything hurts. Even my dignity hurts, and that’s been dead for years.”

Storm shifted his considerable weight off my legs, which was both a relief and a new kind of agony as blood flow returned to my lower extremities. Scout nuzzled my hand sympathetically while Shadow maintained his dignified watch from the pillow.

“Okay, team,” I announced to my furry audience. “Phase one: bathroom. Should be simple. Just need to stand up and walk like a functioning human being. Or… wolf being? Whatever I am now.” I paused. “Why are you all looking at me like that? Stop judging. I’d like to see you try walking after fighting off a wolf pack with a stick.”

Getting vertical was an adventure in pain management and creative cursing. The dogs watched with varying degrees of concern as I shuffled toward the bathroom like a penguin with arthritis.

“I’m fine,” I insisted as Shadow tried to support my weight. “Just peachy. This is my new signature walk. Very fashionable in Paris this season.”

The bathroom mirror revealed exactly what I expected—I looked like I’d gone ten rounds with a supernatural fight club. Which, technically, I had. My hair was a disaster zone, my borrowed silk pajamas were rumpled beyond salvation, and there were shadows under my eyes that suggested I’d been punched. Twice.

The journey back to the bedroom felt like crossing the Sahara Desert. On my hands and knees. Through quicksand.

I opened the door to find Caleb waiting, looking unfairly fresh and gorgeous in casual clothes.

“No,” I said immediately, recognizing the look in his eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking, no.”

“You can barely walk,” he pointed out, already moving toward me.

“I’m practicing my zombie impression. Very method acting. Could win an award.”

Before I could protest further, he scooped me up. The dogs, the traitors, wagged their tails in approval.

“This is unnecessary,” I grumbled into his stupidly comfortable shoulder. “I am a strong, independent wolf being who doesn’t need carrying.”

“Of course,” Caleb agreed, his chest rumbling with suppressed laughter. “That’s why you were using the wall as a crutch.”

“The wall and I have a special relationship. Very supportive. Unlike some people.”

He started down the stairs, the dogs following like an honor guard. “I’m literally supporting you right now.”

“Details.” I waved dismissively, then winced as the movement reminded me of last night’s impromptu stick-fighting session. “Besides, what will the staff think?”

“They’ll think I’m taking care of my mate,” Caleb said, his voice dropping to that low, possessive tone that did things to my insides.

“Oh God, don’t start with the ‘mate’ thing before coffee. I need caffeine to process supernatural relationship labels.”

We entered the breakfast room to find Anna setting the table. Her eyes lit up like Christmas had come early as she took in the sight of Caleb carrying me.

“Good morning!” she chirped, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’ll get fresh coffee right away!”

“Anna, it’s not what it—” I started, but she was already skipping toward the kitchen, humming what sounded suspiciously like a love song.

“Great,” I mumbled as Caleb settled me into a chair. “I’m now starring in the household’s favorite morning drama.The Young and the Werewolf. Coming to daytime television never.”

The aroma of fresh bread wafted in as Maria bustled through the door, carrying a basket that smelled like heaven.

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