Page 32 of Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed

“Good.” She smiled serenely. “Because I know many ways to?—”

“Mom! No more curse threats!”

“Not curse! Special spiritual cleansing. Very different.”

“Pretty sure the end result is the same,” Luke said.

“Next Saturday, then,” Marcus confirmed, looking like he was already mentally rearranging security patrols and territory boundaries.

“Yes. Early. Must catch morning spirits.” Imo’s jade ornaments clinked ominously. “You have good tea? Proper cups?”

“We have an entire set of Royal Copenhagen—” Maria started.

“No, no. Special cups. I bring. Also bring special salt. And bells.”

“So many bells.” Luke sighed.

Scout chose that moment to start another howling session, apparently saying goodbye to his new spiritual grandmother.

“Good dogs,” Imo approved. “They understand. They know.”

“They’re just excited about the treats you promised,” I pointed out.

“That too,” she agreed cheerfully. “Now, must go prepare. Many things to do. Luke! Help me with ritual boxes!”

“How many—” Luke’s eyes widened at something off-screen. “Mom, we can’t fit all that in my car!”

“Watch me,” Imo declared, then turned back to the screen. “Kai-ya! Be good. Eat well.” Then the video call ended, and silence fell over the manor’s great room.

“So,” I said finally. “That went… well?”

“Your adoptive mother just threatened three alpha werewolves with spiritual cleansing,” Derek pointed out.

“While taking photos for her curse reference collection,” Caleb added.

“Not curse. Special cleansing,” Marcus mimicked perfectly, making Maria snort.

“We’re all going to die,” I decided. “Buried under protective salt and ritual bells.”

“At least we’ll be well fed,” Jorge offered optimistically. “Those red bean buns sounded interesting…”

I dropped my head into my hands as the brothers started discussing security arrangements for what they were now calling “Operation Spiritual Invasion.”

The universe wasn’t just laughing at me anymore. It was rolling on the floor howling.

Just like the dogs.

Chapter 7

It had been a week and a half since the video call with Luke and Imo, and I was starting to understand why the Stone library had so many books about wolf stamina. Turns out, training to be even a quarter-wolf required more exercise than I’d done in my entire college career. My supernatural metabolism was burning through energy faster than I could keep up with, and the brothers seemed determined to push my newfound endurance to its limits.

“Ready for training?” Derek’s voice made me jump. He was leaning against my doorframe in workout clothes that were probably designed specifically to torture me.

“Define ‘ready,’” I said.

“Just the normal basics today,” Derek said, but his eyes did that scanning thing all three brothers had perfected—checking for any sign I might be tired or uncomfortable. They’d been extra protective since the whole quarter-wolf revelation.

I’d noticed Derek and his team heading out more frequently for their “patrols” lately. They’d leave in their fleet of black SUVs, looking all tactical and intimidating, then return hours laterwearing expressions that made me glad I wasn’t their target.

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