All Chapters of The Lost Alphas Daughter: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

As the afternoon light filters in, I finally manage to rise, my body aching as if it’s been hit by a train. I groan, rolling over to find myself face to face with Braden’s side, his ribs rising and falling with each breath, and my eyes drift to his birthmark. It an unusal mark and I have never seen it at this angle before. Up close, it looks more like… teeth marks. The color is darker red nearly purple, almost angry, and the outline is distinct, as if something once sank into his skin and left a permanent reminder. My finger traces it lightly, feeling a subtle indentation, and I swear it matches the shape of a bite.Sensing I’m awake, Braden stirs, his hand catching mine as he plants kisses on my fingertips, one by one. “Finally, you’re up,” he murmurs his dark blue eyes glinting at me, rolling us over until I’m beneath him, his lips moving to my collarbone and then lower. His body feels solid and warm against mine, but the questions circling in my mind refuse to settle.“Braden,” I s

I release a shaky breath, clutching my robe tighter around me. My jaw throbs where his fingers bruised my skin, his words echoing in my mind, sharp and bitter.Anger, betrayal, and shame churn within me, a nauseating mix of emotions, but I force it all down, trying to focus on the opportunity in front of me. Braden is gone, and this might be my only chance to find answers.I move quickly toward his office, my steps urgent but cautious, every soft thud of my bare feet on the hardwood amplifying the coil of nerves tightening in my stomach.I stop outside Braden’s office, my hand hovering on the door handle, my breaths shallow and rapid. I feel exposed, violated—the memory of his touch from last night still lingers on my skin, a reminder of his power over me. He thinks he can do whatever he wants because I’m his wife. As if my body is no longer my own but for his needs. Each time he calls me his wife, the words feel like a sentence, trapping me in this house.I peek through the glass spy

The realization settles like a weight in my stomach. Every moment, every step, every glance — Braden is scrutinizing it all, piecing together a narrative in which I'm the unwilling protagonist. I feel trapped, the walls closing in with each passing second, his warning echoing in my mind.I force myself to breathe, steady and quiet, even though my heart thunders against my ribs. My eyes dart to the window, my one remaining escape route, but the prospect of fleeing feels as dangerous as staying. I clench my hands into fists beneath the blanket, grounding myself, staving off the rising panic.Think, Claudia. You can’t let him see you’re afraid.After a moment, I push back the covers and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, the cold floor grounding me. I rise slowly, moving to the closet to dress, my mind racing through possibilities, forming and discarding plans as quickly as they come.I tug on a sweater, the soft fabric feeling like a fragile shield. The unease twists tighter as I r

Hours later, Braden’s steady snores fill the room, a sound that grates against my already raw nerves. I lie motionless beside him, my thoughts swirling. Mates are supposed to feel each other’s emotions. If he still had a mate, wouldn’t she sense his betrayal? That must mean he rejected her. But why, then, is the mark on his skin changing? Marks aren’t supposed to grow.Who is she? What did he say to her? What does she think of me?The thought of her burns in my mind. She must know. She must have seen it all—the pack functions where I stood by his side, the public kisses, the announcements of my pregnancy. The very thought makes me sick. How could she bear it? How could I?The bed dips as Braden shifts, his body pressing closer. He hooks a leg over mine, anchoring me to him, and I feel the weight of his control. Everything he does is deliberate, calculated. I can feel it now, see the cracks in the illusion. But what is his endgame? Why me?I was only seventeen when I met him, with no m

My nose wrinkles as I turn the page, the paper so thin it’s nearly translucent, the faint imprint of the text on the opposite side teasing my eyes. The first hundred pages discuss the purpose of a mate—a union of equals, meant to strengthen and empower. Each quality, each gift, designed to make a couple an unstoppable force.I think of Braden and how his promises of love were nothing more than chains, binding me to his will. Every whispered word, every tender touch, was a calculated effort to control me, mold me into something he could use. As I read, the truth sharpens with every line: Braden isn’t my mate. I had been so content for him to be just my husband and with mates being so rare ... I never suspected he might have one. The book explains that discovering a mate isn’t a sudden, magical lightning bolt—at least not for the woman. For high-ranking males, like Alphas, the bond manifests immediately, usually at a pivotal moment in their lives. For some, it’s when they first assume