Page 65 of Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed

“Let them see,” he growled, sucking hard at the spot where my neck met my shoulder. “Let them all see who you belong to. Who you surrender to.”

His mouth reclaimed mine in a kiss that was pure sin, his tongue moving in a rhythm that made my knees weak. One hand slid down to grip my thigh, hitching it up as he pressed closer, and the friction had me gasping into his mouth.

“Marcus,” I managed between kisses, my voice embarrassingly needy.

“I know, little mate,” he purred, and the pure alpha dominance in his voice made me shiver. “I know exactly what you need.”

His mouth claimed mine again, but this time there was nothing controlled about it. Marcus kissed like he was trying to consume me, one hand gripping my hair while the other slid beneath my shirt to map every inch of skin he could reach. When his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot along my ribs, my whole body arched into him.

“Beautiful,” he growled, taking advantage of my exposed throat. His teeth scraped along my pulse point before sucking hard, marking me deliberately. Each bite was followed by his tongue, soothing the sting only to start again somewhere new. My hands clutched desperately at his shoulders as he worked his way down my neck, leaving a trail of marks that burned like brands.

“Please,” I gasped, though I wasn’t sure what I was begging for. His thigh pressed harder between my legs, creating a friction that had me seeing stars. When he captured my mouth again, the kiss was devastating—all tongue and teeth and alpha dominance that broke what little control I had left.

Marcus seemed determined to mark every inch of exposed skin he could reach. His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, down my throat, across my collarbone. Each spot he claimed burned with delicious heat, and the sounds he drew from me were absolutely shameless. My shirt had been pushed up, buttons somehow undone, giving him access to more skin to mark.

“Mine,” he growled against my chest, and the vibration of his voice combined with another sharp bite had me crying out. “Ours.”

By the time he finally released me, I was thoroughly wrecked. My shirt was a lost cause, half the buttons missing and the fabric hopelessly wrinkled. My lips felt bruised and oversensitive, and the trail of marks down my neck and chest would definitely take werewolf healing to fade. I could barely stand, my legs shaking as Marcus steadied me with a satisfied smirk.

When we rejoined Luke, he took one look at my thoroughly debauched state and burst out laughing.

“Don’t even start,” I warned him, trying unsuccessfully to fix my hair.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Luke said innocently. “Though you might want to borrow a scarf. Or three.”

Chapter 15

LUKE

Cedar Grove’s Harvest Festival was like someone had taken a quaint country fair, dipped it in gold, and then sprinkled it with what I was pretty sure was actual magic. Not that I was going to admit that out loud. Growing up with a Korean shaman for a mother had taught me the value of strategic denial.

Beside me, Kai was having his own supernatural awakening, his head turning at every nonhuman presence like a kid discovering a new color. It was almost amusing watching him try to process it all, especially with Caleb hovering protectively nearby. The Stone brothers had their mate-guarding down to a science, I’d give them that.

I pretended not to notice how my own senses seemed sharper lately, how I could pick out the not-quite-human from the crowd with disturbing accuracy. The vendor whose fingers left trails of light when she moved. The teenagers whose shadows danced independently. The “local honey” seller with actual gold gleaming in her eyes.

But while Kai had three overprotective alphas explaining his new abilities, I was left wondering if maybe all those years of Mom’s “spiritual training” hadn’t been as superstitious as I’d thought.

The entire town square had been transformed into something out of a fantasy novel. Paper lanterns floated overhead without any visible support. The fortune teller’s cards reshuffled themselves when no one was looking. And I was pretty sure that elderly couple sharing a caramel apple had actual silver sparkles trailing from their clasped hands.

Watching Caleb materialize beside Kai for the hundredth time, I had to smile. For supernatural stalkers, the Stone brothers were surprisingly… sweet? In a terrifyingly overprotective, obviously superhuman way. The fact that they took turns appearing to shower Kai with attention would have been creepy if it wasn’t so obviously coordinated to keep him safe.

Like now, with Caleb whisking him away behind a flower display that was definitely enchanted (those roses were absolutely not natural colors). I pretended not to notice Scout taking up guard position, the massive dog’s eyes far too intelligent as he watched the crowd.

“Real subtle,” I muttered, but I was smiling. After years of watching Kai drift through life half-invisible, it was nice seeing him so thoroughly… claimed.

When they returned, Kai’s thoroughly kissed state and Caleb’s smugness told their own story. I caught Derek watching from near the security checkpoint, his massive frame radiating impatience for his turn. These wolves really did have a timeshare system going.

The festival flowed around us in waves of humanity and… other. My “totally normal intuition” (as Mom would say) picked up more supernatural signals with each passing hour. The woodcarver’s hands moved too fast, his creations almost breathing. The face painter’s designs shifted and swirled on children’s skin. Even the churros Jorge made seemed to sparkle with more than just edible gold.

By the time Marcus swept Kai away to his office (and really, who needed an office with that view?), I was mentally cataloging at least a dozen different types of nonhuman festival attendees. Mom would be having a field day with her prayer beads if she wasn’t busy terrorizing the cooking competition judges with suspicious mushrooms.

“I need a break from all this…” I said to myself, finding a quiet bench near the garden area. The late afternoon sun painted everything in gold, and the crowd’s energy had shifted into something more… ethereal.

Something in my chest hummed a warning seconds before I felt them approach—three distinct presences moving with predatory grace. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was—my skin was already prickling with awareness.

“Well,” a familiar aristocratic voice drawled, “what a delightful surprise.”

Ice Eyes—Xander, if I remembered correctly—stood there looking like he’d stepped out of some luxury fashion campaign. His brothers flanked him with equally devastating effect: James with his fighter’s build and dangerous grace, Liam with his tech mogul confidence and sharp grin.

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