The Alphas Claim

POV: KAELIA

"Mine."

The menacing voice echoed through the dead-silent ballroom.

Startled by the predatory dominance flooding the space, Draken loosened his suffocating grip on my bruised ribs. I gasped, stumbling away from his massive chest. The release of pressure sent sharp spikes of agony shooting through my battered torso. My injuries screamed in protest. I gritted my teeth, locking my knees to force myself to stay upright in front of the watching crowd.

The towering stranger began a slow march toward us. His heavy boots thudded against the polished marble floor. An elegantly dressed woman tried to cling to his muscular arm, her face pale with horror. He shook her off with a hard jerk of his shoulder, leaving her staggering backward into a group of startled guests. His glowing eyes remained locked on Draken.

I reached out and grabbed my friend Lorna by the wrist. I pulled her forward and pushed her behind my back, placing my own frail body between her and the approaching threat. I braced my stance on the slippery floor and prepared for the worst.

Draken puffed out his chest, stepping squarely in front of me to block the stranger's path. He squared his broad shoulders, attempting to match the lethal aura rolling off the approaching man.

"You are mistaken. Her father has already promised her hand to me in marriage. Once she turns 18 we will be marked and mated."

An ear-splitting growl tore from the stranger's throat, vibrating against the glass chandeliers above. His eyes flashed with the unmistakable power of an Alpha.

"You are not touching my mate."

Hushed whispers rippled through the gathered crowd. The realization hit the room like a physical blow. The guests muttered his name in terrified reverence. He was Kastor Stryker. The formidable, feared Alpha of the Obsidian Moon Pack. The sheer size, brutal strength, and ruthless reputation of his pack commanded deep respect across every neighboring territory.

Draken stood firm, blinded by his own toxic ego. He refused to back down, baring his teeth at the invading Alpha in a foolish display of pride.

A second man stepped between Kastor and Draken before fists could fly. He moved with lethal grace, his hand resting near his hip. He looked unbothered by the crushing tension in the air.

"My name is Ryker. I am Kastor's Beta. It goes against every sacred law of werewolf nature to come between an Alpha and his goddess-given mate."

Draken leaned forward and spat into Ryker's face. The disrespect was staggering.

"I know the laws. And I do not give a shit. Her father promised her to me. And she will be mine."

The air in the ballroom grew thick with the promise of violence. Heavy footsteps announced the arrival of backup. Draken's thuggish friends, Slade and Ronan, shoved their way through the murmuring guests. They circled up behind Draken, cracking their knuckles and smirking at the Alpha and his Beta.

Head warrior Torin followed right behind them. He crossed his thick arms over his chest and surveyed the scene. Torin was one of the rare few men in this pack I trusted with my life. He had trained alongside Thorne for years, and he possessed a strong moral compass.

Torin fixed a hard glare on Draken.

"How can you justify coming between these two? They are goddess-given mates. Destined to be together."

Draken opened his mouth to argue, but a loud crash interrupted him.

My father's slurred voice boomed over the silent crowd. He stumbled forward, knocking a silver tray of champagne flutes out of a passing waiter's hand. He ignored the shattered glass raining down on the marble. He ignored the murderous tension choking the air. The heavy stench of liquor trailed behind him.

"I do not care what the goddess has in store for my daughter. I promised her to Draken so Draken shall get her."

Kastor tensed. His claws lengthened, threatening to tear right through the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.

Alpha Vargus stepped into the center of the ring, desperate to prevent a bloodbath in the middle of his lavish gathering. He held up both hands in a pacifying gesture.

"We do not need this party turning into a slaughterhouse. We are taking this to the private conference room to deliberate."

Vargus gestured toward the heavy wooden doors at the far end of the hall. He began ushering my father and Draken out of the dense crowd.

Kastor stood his ground for a fraction of a second. He turned his fierce gaze to Ryker, issuing a strict command.

"Stay here with my mate. Do not let her out of your sight for a single second."

Kastor turned and stalked after the other men. The heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind them, sealing off the escalating argument.

I stood reeling in the middle of the crowded ballroom. The guests stared at me with wide, judgmental eyes. I felt exposed, awkward, and terrified. I finally turned around to face my friends, wrapping my arms around my aching ribs to offer them some support.

Thorne stepped up beside me, his jaw clenched in raw fury.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me that your father promised you to that dickhead Draken?"

I shook my head, keeping my voice low to avoid eavesdroppers.

"I only found out this morning. I guess I still haven't processed it."

Thorne did not hesitate. He grabbed my elbow, his grip firm.

"Go and start packing. We are getting you out of here."

My eyes widened in pure shock. Thorne turned his attention to the Beta standing mere feet away.

"Ryker. If she packs and sneaks out the back, will you be ready to get her in a car and get her the hell out of here?"

Ryker tilted his head, seemingly amused by the bold demand.

"You want me to help kidnap her?"

Thorne scowled, his patience running dangerously thin.

"It is not kidnapping. Kaelia cannot stay here. Not with Draken and definitely not with her father."

I pulled out of Thorne's grip and shot a nervous, frantic glance over my shoulder.

"Would you two shut up."

Slade and Ronan lurked a short distance away. The loud chatter resuming in the ballroom masked our hushed whispers, but Slade's narrow eyes were locked dead on our huddled group.

Thorne leaned closer, his tone dropping into a desperate plea.

"Kaelia. I am not stupid. I know what your father is like. Especially when he is drunk. You need to get the fuck out of here. Now. This is your best chance."

Lorna grabbed my trembling hand and squeezed it hard.

"He is right. You need to leave."

I swallowed hard, a dark wave of fear gnawing at my insides.

"What about you? I cannot just leave you. If I run away, they will make sure I never see or talk to you again."

Thorne crossed his muscular arms.

"Do not worry about that. I am home now and I am not going anywhere. I will make sure that doesn't happen."

Heavy, menacing footsteps approached from behind. Slade stepped right into our small circle, a nasty sneer plastered on his face. He cracked his knuckles in a slow, rhythmic motion to ensure we all saw the implied threat.

"You better not be planning anything stupid, Kaelia."

I forced a tight smile onto my face and met his suspicious gaze.

"When have I ever done anything stupid?"

I kept the smile glued to my face, but my skin crawled. I remained acutely aware of the literal death glare burning into the side of my head from across the crowded room. Vesper, the woman Kastor had shaken off, stood near the bar. She stared at me with unadulterated hatred. If looks could kill, I would be nothing but a pile of ash on the floor.

Ryker stepped forward, positioning his broad frame directly between me and Slade. He turned his back on the thug, dismissing the warrior like he was nothing but dirt.

"I am going to pretend like you are not even here anymore. Because you are pissing me off."

Torin leaned down and whispered quietly in my ear.

"I can handle those two."

My hands began to tremble. The harsh reality of the situation crashed down on my shoulders. Escaping sounded like a beautiful dream, but the consequences would be catastrophic.

"This is crazy. There is no way we will get away with anything. They will be right on our asses. Dad will never let me leave. You all know this."

Ryker leaned in closer, his casual expression shifting to dead serious. He lowered his voice so only our immediate circle could hear him.

"Kastor just mind-linked me. He is calling the highest werewolf council to report this. They aren't allowed to come between a wolf and his mate. That's our first and foremost absolute law."

Panic seized my entire body. The mere mention of the werewolf council sent a jolt of terror straight into my racing heart. The council wielded unmatched power, and my father despised outside authority. The terrifying thought of his psychotic fury over their direct involvement sent my nervous system into a chaotic frenzy. He would blame me. He always blamed me.

The elegant walls of the ballroom began to close in on me. The chatter of the hundreds of guests merged into a deafening, dizzying drone. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

"Oh my god. The werewolf council. Dad is going to be so pissed."

My lungs constricted. I struggled to draw a breath as a full-blown panic attack set in. I gasped for air, but my chest felt like it was wrapped in tightening iron bands. Black spots danced at the very edge of my vision. The room spun in slow motion.

Every shallow, desperate gasp caused my abused, broken ribs to throb with blinding pain. I hunched forward, clutching my chest as the internal agony spiked.

Torin rushed forward, his eyes wide with immediate concern.

"Breathe. Just breathe. It is a panic attack. I told you what to do with a panic attack."

He grabbed both of my arms, attempting to lift them up over my head to manually open my restricting lungs.

The forceful upward movement painfully stretched my battered torso. Sheer, tearing agony ripped through my fractured ribs. It was far too much to bear.

I ripped my arms back down with a sharp hiss of pain. I wrapped my arms tightly around my ribs, trembling and gasping for whatever tiny slip of air I could manage to inhale.

Ryker froze in his tracks. He took a slow step back. His sharp eyes darted between my defensive, hunched posture and Torin's shocked face. The Beta dropped his casual demeanor. He stared at me with a strange, intensely calculating expression, his intense gaze dropping straight to the hidden spot on my ribs that I was desperately trying to protect.