Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 228: _ My Future

Chapter 228: _ My Future

Chapter 228

~ Axel’s Point Of View~

It had been a hell of crazy mumbo jumbo these past few days. From discovering that the murderer of the Packhouse guard and the boys were the same person to the entire pack now on the edge because they felt they were no longer safe.

My Father, Don Diego, and the entire Alpha council were on the verge of paranoia after the death of the boys. At first, they thought it’d be one single murder and were about to exploit the situation.

However, now that they’d realized that we might all be in danger, all hands had gotten on the deck.

I was returning from the council meeting when I glimpsed Álvaro up ahead, heading to the other wing of the pack—the more secluded one with someone whose silhouette seemed pretty familiar.

"Camilla?" I wondered aloud.

I tried to catch her scent, but the rain had washed everything away, dulling even my strongest senses.

At first, I had wanted to ignore and mind my business but something prompted me to react.

Just peep, see what Álvaro was doing going to such a location with a lady clad in a towel when he was betrothed to marrying Rosa in a few days and go about minding your business when things turned out to be the opposite of what I had thought.

I was suddenly glad I chose to be a busybody. At first, it was the speedy beating of her heart that drifted to my ears. And then, Álvaro’s horrible and disgusting words to her defiant threats.

But he was going to do it anyway. He was going to molest her.

I didn’t wait for logic or caution. My wolf burst through, snapping like a whip through my veins, and before I realized I’d even moved, I was there.

"ÁLVARO!"

The name ripped from my throat like a weapon, louder than the rain and ten times more furious.

He froze. His hand was wrapped around her wrist, forcing her against the wall. The towel she wore had slipped slightly, revealing a bruise blooming on her shoulder.

That was it.

I saw red. Not the poetic or symbolic rage, but real, feral, blinding red.

I did what I knew how to do best; protect her. Hell, it felt like that was my destiny; protecting her. This was the kind of fate where you don’t argue.

The type that you welcome with both of your hands and curl all over.

And just like that, I had the best night of my life; by her side. Bathing her and being bathed, sleeping in each other’s arms and then proceeding to share the best of mornings was a luxury I never thought I could ever be afforded.

More than ever now, I wanted to wife her up. Oh, María José, you pretty sweet angel. Why don’t you just wait and watch me marry you?

I swear, I never believed in fate. Not truly. Not until that moment. Not until her.

Because there was no logical reason why I should’ve been there that night, walking in the rain, taking the long way back to my quarters when I literally had a car, minding business that wasn’t mine—except it was mine. She was mine.

I never poke into others’ businesses but this time, I did. Oh, fate, how funny and ironic you are!

And I don’t mean that in the alpha-possessive, controlling kind of way. I mean...my soul knew hers. My bones had memorized the sound of her breath. My heart had tuned itself to her trembling voice.

She hadn’t said much after I pulled her away from him. Her eyes were red, her body was shaking—not just from the cold, but from the shock. I’d picked her up and carried her like something precious, like she’d shatter if I let her feet touch the ground.

And maybe she would have. Maybe she already had.

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t trust myself to. All I could do was hold her tighter.

I bathed her.

Gently, reverently, like she was something sacred. She wouldn’t let me leave the room, even though she was shy and fragile and kept hiding her face in the crook of my neck. She wanted to be seen... needed to be seen—but couldn’t look me in the eye while I did it.

So I whispered stupid things. Random things. About the way her hair reminded me of sunlight in water. About how her collarbone looked like something carved by a renaissance artist. About how beautiful her scars were.

And when I finally wrapped her in warm clothes and tucked her into my bed, she asked in the smallest voice, "Will you stay?"

Will I stay?

We’d agreed I would sleep on the couch, but fuck couches when I could just sleep beside her.

Hell, I would’ve burned kingdoms just to have that invitation.

So I lay next to her. I didn’t touch her, not until she reached for me. And even then, I held her like the world might end the moment I let go. Because for her—it nearly had.

She fell asleep to my heartbeat. I didn’t sleep. Not really.

I stared at the ceiling, then at her. I watched the way her lashes fluttered as she dreamed. I made promises to the moon, to the stars, to any god that was listening.

And in the morning, when I’d finally drifted off to what could barely be called a night of sleep, I felt her taking her time to watch me. It was her turn, so I allowed her to have her monument.

But then she reached up, touched my jaw with her fingertips, and smiled.

And damn if that smile didn’t undo me all over again.

She doesn’t know what she’s done to me. How she’s rewired the mess of who I used to be. How she’s made me want things I’ve never allowed myself to want—peace, a home, love, a life where I can just be without all the shadows creeping in.

And yeah, the world’s burning down around us.

Murderers on the loose. Pack politics getting nastier by the day. Secrets were so heavy they’re sinking everything.

But in this one moment, I don’t care. Because she’s here. Because she’s safe.

Because last night, when I fought Álvaro and won, I wasn’t just protecting her—I was protecting my own future.

And now, I’m going to fight for it.

For her. For us.

Even if she doesn’t want to acknowledge that we exist. That I’d die before saying "I do" to Rosa.

Even if the whole damn world rises up against me for loving the girl they all look past, I’ll choose her.

Every damn time. Now watch me do it.