Escaping the Alpha, Claimed in the End novel Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Ryder’s POV

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When I pulled Amelia out of that burning room, nothing registered except her weight in my arms. The heat, the smoke, the cracking wood-I didn’t feel any of it. I just kept saying her name like it could drag her back to

“Amelia… baby, please wake up.”

Everything around us was chaos. Lucas shouting, Callum cursing, water hitting flames-but it all sounded far away. When she finally drew in a shaky breath and her fingers twitched against my shirt, something inside me unclenched so fast it hurt. She whispered something I couldn’t make out, but I didn’t care. She was alive.

After the fire was out and half the house was ruined, I walked the perimeter again and again. Every scorched mark, every burn pattern pointed to the same sickening truth: someone had done this on purpose. And they’d aimed it at her.

By morning, she could talk a little, slow and unfocused. Her body was fighting off whatever had been in her system-poison, smoke, something else. Whoever did this wanted her defenseless.

And I wanted whoever it was dead.

So when she told me about Delilah-her strange mood, the comments, the flask-my anger didn’t fade.

It sharpened.

Because none of it sounded like Delilah at all.

By the time afternoon came, I’d gathered the warriors and ran them through everything I found. They followed every lead I pointed out, checked the cameras, interrogated the four Omegas who had been standing too close to the hallway that night. Every trail split off into something suspicious. All of them had lied about where they’d been during the first signs of smoke.

I knew Delilah was tied to this somehow. Or whoever was pretending to be her.

But even with all that rage boiling in me, I still spent more time in our room than anywhere else. Watching Amelia breathe. Listening to her heartbeat. Making sure she didn’t slip under again.

The next couple of days after the fire were some of the strangest of my life. I knew I wasn’t acting like myself, but I couldn’t seem to stop it either.

One moment I’d be soft with Amelia-too soft. Hovering, overprotective, checking her pulse, adjusting her blankets, touching her forehead even when she said she was fine.

Then the next moment something tiny would set me off.

She’d move too fast, and I’d snap, “Sit down, you’re still weak.”

She’d say she wasn’t hungry, and I’d mutter sharply, “You can’t starve yourself right now.

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She’d try to help Lucas with cleanup, and I’d bark, “I said I’ll handle it!”

She’d stare at me with this worried look, like she didn’t recognize the man in front of her.

The worst part? I didn’t either.

I’d catch myself raising my voice and then immediately pull her into my arms like I needed to undo it. I’ her hair and whisper, “I’m sorry, baby, I’m just tired.”

Then ten minutes later I’d snap again because she coughed or because her hand trembled or because she the room without telling me.

I hated the way my moods flipped.

Hated how Amelia flinched slightly once-just once-when I turned too quickly.

And something else… something deeper… was boiling inside me, but I couldn’t figure out where it came from

Kieran was restless, pacing, snarling at shadows.

Every time I blinked, I felt like something was crawling under my skin.

Every time Amelia touched me, I felt protective to the point of paranoia.

Every time she pulled her hand away… everything inside me twisted and darkened.

The night before the argument, it got worse.

Amelia tried to joke about Callum nearly burning down the courtyard again, and instead of laughing, I snapped, “Are you seriously making jokes after almost dying?”

She froze. “Ryder… it was just a joke.”

I sighed, rubbing my face. “I know. I know.”

But my voice was still too sharp.

My hands were shaking.

And I couldn’t explain why.

She touched my arm gently. “You’re scaring me a little. You’re not usually like this.”

I didn’t have an answer.

Because she was right.

Something was wrong with me.

I barely slept that night, tossing and turning until exhaustion finally dragged me under. And the moment it did, the memory hit me-sharp, vivid, undeniable. Amelia and Dane. Her whispering his name. Her touching

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Chapter 61

him like she touched me. Every detail burned clear, like it had actually happened.

I jolted awake with my heart slamming against my ribs. My breathing was uneven, my hands shaking. images didn’t fade. They didn’t blur the way dreams do. They stayed crystal clear, sitting in my head li something I’d forgotten and suddenly remembered.

Kieran was already growling, furious and restless, reacting as if he’d seen it too. His emotions tangled w mine until I couldn’t tell where his outrage ended and mine began.

Everything felt wrong.

My skin too tight.

My pulse too loud.

The air too thick.

I dragged a hand over my face, trying to calm myself, but every time I blinked, I saw it again.

Every time I inhaled, I heard her whisper his name.

The worst part?

It didn’t feel imagined.

It felt true.

I sat there on the edge of the bed, shaking, trying to breathe through the betrayal twisting in my chest-

And then Amelia shifted beside me, warm and peaceful and completely unaware-

And that tiny, innocent movement was the thing that finally snapped whatever grip I had left.

“Ryder?” she murmured. “What’s wrong?”

I swung my legs off the bed, running a hand through my hair so hard it hurt. “Don’t,” I said. “Just-don’t touch me right now.”

That woke her up instantly. She sat up, confused. “What? Why?”

“Ryder? What’s happening?”

“You went back to Dane,” I said, getting out of bed. “The last time you left me–you went straight to him.”

Her expression twisted. “What? That’s not-Ryder, what are you talking about?”

“I saw it,” I snapped. “You. Him. The way you were on him. Don’t stand there acting clueless.”

She froze. “Saw it… when?”

“Last night,” I said. “In my sleep. It came back. Clear as day.”

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Her eyebrows knit in disbelief. “Ryder… that sounds like a dream.”

“Don’t call it that,” I bit out. “It wasn’t some random fantasy. It was a memory. My memory. And it explain everything.”

She stared at me like she didn’t recognize me. “You think I cheated. With Dane. Because of something you saw while you were unconscious.”

“You were with him before,” I shot back. “You let him touch you before. And then you left me and ended u right back at his place. You want me to believe that’s a coincidence?”

“That was YEARS ago,” she cried. “It was a mistake. A stupid, painful mistake. And I didn’t run back to him comfort. I left you to protect you-nothing else.”

“You expect me to believe that?” I demanded. “After what I saw? After you were with him once and then somehow ended up in his bed again?”

Her face crumpled like the floor dropped out from under her. “I was NOT in his bed. I never touched him. I never looked at him that way again. How can you think that of me?”

“I know what I saw,” I snapped. “And it wasn’t some innocent mistake you outgrew. It looked like something you fell right back into the second you had the chance.”

Her breath hitched-hurt, disbelief, like I’d ripped something out of her. “You’re twisting the worst thing I ever did,” she whispered. “You’re turning me into someone I’m not.”

My jaw clenched so tight it hurt. “If that’s true, then why does the truth look a hell of a lot clearer than your version?”

“Ryder-”

“I can’t look at you right now.”

She stared at me, voice barely holding together. “If you’d rather trust a dream than trust me… then go.”

I didn’t answer.

Didn’t try to explain myself.”

I turned and walked out.

The door slammed behind me, loud and final.

And I didn’t look back.