Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother

Later that night, the house fell into silence the way a slaughterhouse does after the pigs stop screaming.

Rosario had finally left, waddling out with a jar of pickles in one hand and an armful of snacks in the other, still muttering to herself about weird cravings and divine conception.

I watched her go through the window, her silhouette melting into the dusk like a greasy mirage, and only then did I let the breath I’d been holding slip out like smoke.

Silence was a rare luxury here. The kind that settled heavy on your chest like a cat that knew too much.

I waited. Five or ten minutes until, there was no sound and voices. All I could hear was the creak of the old wooden walls and the distant hoot of an owl who sounded like he’d seen things.

Then, at last, I stood. Or rather, I rose.

My bones cracked and my muscles stretched. I straightened, shook my limbs, and let out a soft grunt of relief.

God, it felt good.

I flexed my fingers—my very much functional fingers and rolled my shoulders. The air was thick with the scent of dusk and old curses, but the cool breeze slipping through the open window licked at my sweat-damp skin like a secret lover.

There was so much to do tonight. Like talking to María José, kissing, and maybe fucking her until she forgot all about being with Axel.

You see, Axel was here today, spewing shit about wanting to marry Rosa and lock María José in a dungeon, but I didn’t quite believe him.