Rejected by Her Mate Claimed by Four Alphas novel Chapter 33

CHAPTER 30-1

Clara’s POV

I stripped off my wet clothes, leaving them in a heap on the bathroom floor. The hot shower was a blessing, the warmth slowly seeping back into my frozen limbs. As I scrubbed river water and mud from my skin, my mind replayed the events of the morning.

The way Darius had looked at me when I’d emerged from the river. The knowing gleam in his eye. The smug satisfaction in his voice when he’d asked how it felt to win.

He’d known exactly what I’d found. Because he’d put it there. He’d handled my underwear. He’d hidden it for me to find. And then he’d engineered a situation where I had to fight off four wolves to keep anyone else from discovering it.

With each passing moment under the hot spray, my rage built. By the time I stepped out of the shower, I was shaking. Not from cold, but from pure, unadulterated fury.

I dried off roughly, my movements jerky with anger. Wait… were these really my underwear?

I wrapped a towel around myself and stalked into the bedroom, yanking open the dresser drawer where I kept my underwear.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe these weren’t mine. Maybe this was all some sick joke with store–bought panties that just happened to look like…

But after rifling through the drawer, I knew. My black pair of crotchless panties was missing. I hadn’t noticed before because I hadn’t had reason to look for them specifically. I mean, who was I trying to seduce or impress that’d make me wear them. But right now, they weren’t there.

Which meant they really were mine. And somehow, Alpha Darius had gotten his hands on them.

I pulled on clean clothes–jeans and a simple t–shirt that would have been unremarkable on any other day. But today, I was acutely aware of the underwear I chose. Plain black cotton. Nothing special. Nothing like the lace still sitting in the sink.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him touching them. About what he must have thought when he found them. About whether he’d known they were crotchless when he hid them. The mortification burned hotter with each passing second.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. This wasn’t just inappropriate–it was a complete violation of boundaries. It was unprofessional. It was harassment. It was something no Alpha should ever do to a member of their pack.

I paced my room, my hair still dripping around my shoulders, my hands clenching and unclenching as I rehearsed what I would say to him. Most of it involved colorful profanity and serious questions about his mental state and moral compass.

Cam

I couldn’t wait another minute. There was no way I was letting this stand. Alpha or not, he was going to hear exactly what I thought of his little “exercise.”

I marched through the pack house, water still occasionally dripping from my hair, leaving tiny footprints on the floor. Pack members scattered out of my way, clearly sensing the storm cloud of my mood. Good. I wasn’t in the mood for niceties.

When I reached his office door, I didn’t knock. I slammed it open with enough force to make it bang against the wall, the sound echoing through the spacious room like a gunshot.

Alpha Darius sat behind his massive desk, looking irritatingly composed. His eyes flicked up to me, a hint of something–surprise? amusement?-flickering in their amber depths before his expression settled back into that controlled mask.

“What the actual fuck was that?” I demanded, stalking toward his desk, my voice rising with each word. “What kind of perverted Alpha uses a woman’s underwear as part of some twisted training exercise?”

I slammed the now–damp panties down on his desk, my face burning with humiliation and rage. The black

lacę stood out starkly against the polished wood surface, a physical embodiment of my outrage.

“Do you have any idea how inappropriate this is? How completely unacceptable? How did you even get these? Did you go through my things? Is this your idea of a joke?”

I was breathing hard, my words coming out in an angry rush. All the fury I’d been containing since finding the lace beneath that rock was pouring out now, unstoppable.

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CHAPTER 30-2

“Invading my privacy. Handling my personal items. Setting me up to be hunted down by four men who would have seen…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence, the humiliation too fresh. “What kind of sick game are you playing?”

He remained maddeningly calm, watching me with those penetrating eyes that seemed to see right through me. His silence only fueled my anger.

“Say something!” I demanded, slamming my palms down on his desk. “Explain yourself!”

Slowly, he rose from his chair, his movement deliberate and controlled. He came around the desk with measured steps, his eyes never leaving mine.

Despite my anger, my body responded to his approach. My heart rate quickened, my skin prickling with

awareness. I hated that he could affect me this way even now, when I was furious with him.

“They got mixed up in my laundry,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Somehow ended up with my

clothes during the first week you were here.”

My face flushed hot with embarrassment. Those first few days at the pack house, the staff had collected my few belongings for washing along with the new clothes Darius had ordered for me. My underwear must have gotten mixed in with his things.

“You should have returned them to me privately,” I insisted, still holding onto my anger. “Not turned them into some humiliating public spectacle.”

He continued to advance, his eyes never leaving mine. I found myself backing up instinctively until I hit the edge of his desk, trapped between the solid wood and his approaching body.

“I never intended for anyone but you to find them,” he said, stopping just inches away from me. “That’s why I hid them where I did. I knew you’d look where the others wouldn’t.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” I insisted, my voice stronger than I felt. His proximity was making it hard to hold onto my anger, my body responding to his in ways I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You had no right to handle my personal items, especially not… those.”

I gestured vaguely toward the panties still lying on his desk, unable to even name what they were out loud. “No,” he agreed, surprising me. “Maybe I didn’t.”

He placed his hands on the desk on either side of me, effectively caging me in. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the pine and smoky scent that was uniquely his. What had started as a confrontation was shifting into something else, something charged with a different kind of tension.

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