Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 214: _ Sleep in My Room

Chapter 214: _ Sleep in My Room

I hugged him.

Axel stiffened like I’d thrown a bucket of cold water on him, but then he melted into it, arms wrapping around me, one hand on the back of my head, the other curling around my waist like he was trying to memorize how I fit.

I squeezed tighter. "We’ll figure this out," I whispered.

It’s weird that I, the weaker one, was the one giving the reassurance, but it made me feel good. To know that I could offer him something even if it was just a little reassurance.

He didn’t demean it too. Axel was sweet like that.

He pulled back slightly, searching my face. "Promise me something."

"Anything."

"Next time you meet a random stranger outside a pigsty, punch them in the face first, then ask questions."

My jaw fell open. "What?" I blurted, stifling a laugh.

"Swear it, María."

"I swear. First a punch. Then a polite introduction."

"That’s my girl."

I rolled my eyes, my heart still thumping in my chest. It wasn’t over. Not even close. But for a second there, in the safety of his arms, I could pretend we weren’t standing in the middle of a brewing storm.

But it was coming. And it had our names carved into the lightning.

Axel stepped back just enough to look at me, though his hand lingered on the back of my head like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

His expression was bland—those sharp eyes scanning my face like he was memorizing something. It made my heart skip for a second as a nervous flutter splurted right under my ribs.

"We need an active plan," he said thoughtfully.

He was right. All this talking wouldn’t solve anything if we weren’t going to act.

I nodded, even though an active plan could mean anything from building a trap in the woods to confronting a demon in disguise with nothing but a theory and a prayer to the goddess.

Okay, I knew the demon was me being extra, but one could never tell.

"Do you have something in mind?" I asked cautiously.

He hesitated. And that was rare. Axel was many things; broody, snarky, emotionally constipated—but indecisive wasn’t one of them.

"I do," he said at last, his brow furrowing slightly. "But I don’t know if you can do it."

Excuse me? See what I said? It could mean anything.

I straightened. "Try me."

I was lying.

He tilted his head, giving me that look. You know the one... the one that says, ’Don’t make me say something you’ll throw back at me later.’

His jaw worked slightly, like he was chewing on the words, tasting the risk of saying them out loud.

"Do you trust me?" he asked finally.

I blinked. That... wasn’t what I expected. But I didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

"I do."

A breath escaped him. One could call it relief or something heavier. He looked at me for a beat longer, then said, "To catch the culprit, we need to think like the culprit."

I stared. "You mean... wear a mask and skulk around in shadows stealing people’s forms and wreaking havoc?"

He cracked a small smile. "Not exactly. But close."

He stepped away fully now and began pacing slowly, fingers interlaced behind his back like some kind of military general preparing for war. I would’ve teased him for it if my stomach wasn’t knotting.

"We need to keep playing the fool," he said. "You especially."

"Excuse me?"

"You need to keep entertaining him. The fake Mateo."

My skin prickled. My spine went stiff. "Entertaining him? Like... bake him cookies and laugh at his unfunny jokes?"

He paused. "Exactly."

I threw my hands up. "Axel. That man gives me serial killer vibes."

"I know."

"He smells like blood and feels like death."

I wanted to shout; he kissed me too! But I didn’t want Axel to think from a place of emotion. He needed to be rational in handling this.

"I know."

"He looks at me like I’m a Rubik’s cube he wants to peel the stickers off of."

"I know."

"Then why...?"

"Because," Axel cut in, walking toward me again, "he’s smart. He’s careful. And he’s convinced that you’re too soft and naive to suspect him."

Rude. Accurate. But rude.

"We can use that," he continued. "If you stay close, we’ll learn things; details, patterns. And when the time is right, we’ll trap him. But if you back off now, he’ll vanish like smoke to do other stuff or even lurk closer. If he or she can steal my form, they can steal that of anyone’s as well. Even that of my Father, and we’ll lose them for good."

I opened my mouth. Closed it and Reopened it like a fish trying to compute taxes.

"And what am I supposed to do," I asked, "when he decides to rape me this time around?"

I couldn’t hold that back any longer.

Axel stepped even closer. His hands landed on my shoulders, strong and steady. "I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever. Do you understand me?"

I stared up at him. And the thing was... he meant it. Not in the throwaway, ’oh sure I’ll be there’ kind of way, but in the ’I’ll burn the world if it tries to take you’ way. It settled something tight and wobbly in my chest.

"But he’s weird," I said. "Like... psychologically weird. Something’s off in his eyes. Like he’s two seconds away from licking a doorknob for science."

Axel’s mouth twitched. "I’m aware."

"And I’m supposed to flirt with him?"

"No one said flirt."

"You said ’entertain.’ That’s code for flirt."

"Not necessarily."

"Axel."

"Fine. Mild flirtation. Strategically deployed."

I groaned. "Ugh. I have the charm of a damp sock."

"I’ve seen you charm almost every man around you without even trying, María José. You’ll be fine."

I paused. "That’s not true."

"It is. Every man who comes close to you ends up falling for you."

W-what?! That’s so not TRUE!

Axel gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze. "This is your chance to be strong, María. To show it. Not just to him or to me, but to yourself. You’ve survived so much. You’ve been stepped on, talked over, underestimated. Let’s use that."

His words were heavy and heavily felt. They weren’t pretty. They weren’t poetic. But they were honest. And powerful in their own rough-edged way.

Axel needed me to be strong. I needed to be strong for myself too.

I swallowed hard. "Okay. I’ll do it."

He smiled. Not a smirk. Not a tease. A real, warm smile that made me feel like I’d just won something important.

"But," I said, wagging a finger at him. "If he starts monologuing about the beauty of pain, I’m setting him on fire."

"Fair," Axel said, deadpan.

We stood there for a moment? Considering our new mission. This was the very first thing Axel and I were setting out to achieve together.

I could feel the weight of it; dangerous, risky, probably stupid. But it also felt... right. Like the first time, I touched a piano key and knew music lived in my bones.

The wind outside had picked up, rustling leaves and making the old window shutters groan like tired ghosts. I glanced at the door.

"I should head home," I said, suddenly aware of how dark it had gotten. "It’s late."

Axel’s brow rose. "It’s past midnight."

"Exactly. People will start talking."

He crossed his arms, stepping into full ’brick wall’ mode. "Let them."

"Axel," I hissed. "You’re engaged."

"To a woman I don’t love."

My mouth flopped open again. This was becoming a trend. "That doesn’t change the fact that you’re technically off the market!"

"Technically?" He smirked. "You make it sound like I’m a loaf of expired bread."

"People will talk. They’ll twist it."

"I don’t care."

My heart thudded. "You should."

"I don’t."

"Well I do," I said, folding my arms. "I’m already the weird girl who has no wolf, has no family, and has an ugly scar."

Axel’s grin stretched wider. "You do have a pretty soul and an inner beauty."

"Axel! Are you taunting me?!"

"I’m sure I’m allowed to."

I glared at him. "This is not helping."

He shrugged. "You’re not going anywhere. Not alone. Not tonight."

And just like that, the brick wall became an immovable mountain.

"You’ll sleep in my room. It’s safer." He announced casually.

What in the world did this man just say?! S-sleep in his room?!

I sputtered. "With you?! In the same bed?"

"There’s a couch."

"Do you even fit on a couch?"

"I’ve slept on worse."

"Axel..."

"María." He stepped closer again, voice dropping low and certain. "If you leave, I won’t sleep. I’ll be pacing the walls thinking he’s waiting in the shadows to pounce. Just stay. Please."

It was the please that did it. That and the worry etched in the lines around his eyes.

I sighed, dramatically. "Fine. But I’m taking the bed."

"Deal."

"And if you snore, I will smother you with a pillow."

"That’s fair."

We stood there for another second, tension slowly dissolving into something lighter—something almost... domestic. And maybe it was the exhaustion, or the adrenaline crash, or the faint smell of cinnamon and masculinity that always clung to him, but I didn’t feel as scared anymore.

Tired, yes. Nervous, of course. But not scared.

Not with him here.