Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 233: _ Darkness

Chapter 233: _ Darkness

I could only fake my casual act for so long before my whole body started shaking like a plucked guitar string.

I needed to get the hell out of here before my eyeballs did a full somersault from stress.

"Alright, bro," I said, pushing myself up from the couch, trying to make it look relaxed and not like my legs had just turned into overcooked spaghetti. "I’m gonna leave you to your beauty sleep. I’ll come see you soon, yeah?"

Luis didn’t answer.

Of course, he didn’t. He just lay there like the world’s creepiest wax figure, frozen in that same position, like someone had hit Pause on his very soul.

Yes. That ’someone’ was my Father.

A shudder tried to claw its way up my spine, but I swallowed it down and forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

I backed toward the door like some idiot in a horror movie, keeping my eyes wide open just in case something decided to materialize out of thin air and chew my face off.

The room pulsed around me, thick and wet like the inside of a beast’s belly. I was just starting to realize the meaning behind my mother’s worry about coming over here.

I was just starting to feel it—the darkness.

Every step toward the door felt like dragging my legs through syrup.

One step. Another step. Almost there, almost there...

My hand hit the doorknob.

Sweet, beautiful, freezing metal. I wanted to kiss it.

I twisted and yanked the door open and immediately stumbled into the hallway like I’d just escaped a hostage situation.

The second I was out, the pressure lifted. It was like stepping from the bottom of the ocean onto dry land.

The air outside smelled like wet stone and grass, and freedom, and thank-you-baby-Jesus-in-the-manger.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. It was loud and shuddering, like a dying walrus—and slumped against the nearest wall.

My heart still battered away at my ribs, thump-thump-thump, like it was auditioning for a death metal band.

"I survived," I whispered hoarsely to no one. "Holy crap. I freaking survived."

It wasn’t even just about fear. It was that... wrongness in there. It was the darkness, the sense of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach.

Like I’d been sharing air with something ancient and mean. Like breathing beside a black hole that wanted to slurp me up.

I didn’t waste another second.

I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets, ducked my head against the drizzle, and made a beeline straight for the mansion.

No stops. No sightseeing. No greeting packhouse members. Screw it all.

Axel Montenegro was going HOME.

...

The mansion was ahead with its lights glowing soft and golden through the misty rain. Normally I hated how cold and big this place was, like it was built to impress, not shelter—but tonight?

Tonight it looked like a five-star spa resort.

I barreled through the front doors, nodded distractedly at a maid who blinked at me like I’d grown an extra head, and stomped up the grand staircase two at a time.

My room.

My precious, safe, witch-free room.

I flung the door open, kicked it closed behind me, and leaned against it, panting like I’d just run a marathon uphill in full armor.

Silence. Clean air. No invisible witches breathing down my neck.

I staggered to the bed, face-planted into the pillows, and groaned long and deep into the mattress.

"What the hell was THAT?!" I muffled-screamed. "I deserve hazard pay for that crap!"

I flipped over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above me. My thoughts whirled just as slow and messy.

Had the witch been there? Probably.

Had they heard everything I said? Probably.

Had they taken the bait about María José?

Please Moon Goddess, let them have taken the bait.

Still, unease gnawed at my gut. What if I’d just painted a giant target on her back? What if the witch decided to act sooner because of what I said?

Guilt burned through me.

Maybe I should go back. Maybe I should check on her right now—No. No. I had to trust the plan. Trust María José to play her part. If I hovered too much, I’d blow everything.

I groaned again and flopped dramatically onto my side.

And just like that, the scent hit me.

That sweet, soft, sun-warmed blanket smell that clung to María José. God, it was everywhere in my bed. Because a night ago... she’d slept here.

With me.

Fully clothed, yeah, but still. We’d shared warmth. We’d breathed the same air. Her small hand had been inches from mine all night, and it had nearly driven me insane.

Just thinking about it now melted away the leftover fear like butter on a hot skillet.

I could almost feel her again, tucked under my chin, her hair tickling my throat. The tiny sighs she made in her sleep. The way her nose scrunched up when she dreamed.

I smiled like a drunk idiot into the pillow.

Yeah. Screw the witch. I had bigger problems.

Like how the hell was I supposed to marry Rosa when every cell in my body wanted María José?

I know... I don’t.

....

A sharp knock jarred me out of my swoony daze. I bolted upright, heart slamming into my tonsils.

"It’s just a door, Axel," I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair.

Whatever was in there in Luis’s room had driven me right onto the edge.

"Axel?" came my mother’s voice from the other side. "Can I come in?"

Ugh.

I glanced around wildly like I was hiding contraband.

My room was fine—messy, but fine.My brain, however, was a dumpster fire.

"Uh—could you maybe..." I rubbed my face. "Could you give me a little space, Mom?"

There was a long pause.

Then, firmly: "No. Not after what I saw yesterday."

Oh, fantastic. Mother Dearest had witnessed some of my very public breakdowns. I shouldn’t have blatantly told her Rosa disfigured María José’s face with so much anger, but I just couldn’t help it after witnessing what Álvaro was going to do to her.

"Fine," I grumbled. "Come in."

Here we go...