My Possessive Alpha Twins For Mate Chapter 276

Liam’s POV

I woke to the softest sensation — Lia’s warm cheek pressed firmly against my chest, her gentle snores filling the room in quiet, steady rhythm. She was still deep in sleep, peaceful and entirely unaware of the world around her.

The space beside us had grown cold, and Logan was nowhere in sight. But the faint shuffle of movement coming from the bathroom told me he hadn’t gone far.

My gaze drifted toward the clock. Six-thirty. Training would’ve started half an hour ago, but we had both agreed to skip it last night. Logan wouldn’t be heading there, not today. Still, it wasn’t like him to be awake this early without good reason.

I wanted to ask, but the last thing I wanted was to disturb the sleeping angel curled up against me. So, I reached for the next best thing — the mind-link.

"What’s got you up this early?" I asked, my voice threading through the connection. "Must be something important to have you out of bed, instead of wrapped around our mate like usual."

"Couldn’t sleep." His voice grunted into my head, sharp and laced with frustration. "Too fucking pissed. I’m going to find Rowena and drag her down to the cells. Let’s see how the scheming little bitch enjoys a week in silver chains."

A quiet chuckle slipped from me at his unfiltered rage. "You do realize you can’t actually do that, right?"

"Watch me." His growl snapped back immediately. "I’m her Alpha. She’ll learn the hard way not to disrespect us — or our mate."

I sighed, exasperated but understanding. "Logan, believe me, I’m pissed too. But it’s Lia’s word against hers. We can’t start punishing pack members without proof."

"Fine." His voice dripped with reluctant surrender. "But I’m still going to find her, and I won’t leave until she knows exactly what’ll happen if she even thinks about messing with our girl again."

I smirked, stretching lazily as I stifled a yawn. "Have fun. I’ll be right here, keeping our angel warm all by myself."

"Yeah, don’t get used to it," he shot back, the sound of the front door clicking shut marking his exit.

Now fully awake, I settled back into the silence, tightening my hold on Lia’s delicate frame. I dipped my head, nuzzling into her wild curls — soft as silk, wild as her spirit — breathing her in until her scent wrapped around me like a calming blanket.

Her hair always had a way of tangling itself across me, draping over my shoulder and curling under my chin, as if it belonged there. I loved that about her. I loved waking up covered in those untamed strands, the feel of them against my skin — one of a thousand tiny things about her that owned me, heart and soul.

I pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and settled deeper into the pillow, allowing her scent to fill my lungs, to ease the tension lingering in my chest. But the effect was bittersweet — while it quieted my thoughts, it stirred something else entirely.

The familiar ache pulsed to life as my body reacted to her soft curves pressed so sweetly against me. It was ridiculous, really, how little effort it took for her to awaken that need in me. Not that I was complaining. Especially not when last night’s memories came rushing back, vivid and unrelenting.

Scene after scene flickered through my mind, each one making it harder to believe how the night had started compared to how it ended — tangled together, bare skin to bare skin, hearts and bodies entirely surrendered.

I’d been hurt when she told us she was leaving, angry even, the ache of missing her still fresh from my time away. All I wanted was to hold her, to talk, to understand the storm she was weathering. But instead, she’d walked out, and from the way she acted, it seemed she had no intention of coming back.

That memory still twisted in my chest, sharp and raw. I might have mastered self-control over the years, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel. And last night, I’d felt everything.

The hurt quickly gave way to fury the moment she mentioned where she was going — a bar, alone, surrounded by unmated males, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination.

She looked sinful, there was no denying it. That dress clung to her curves like it had been painted on, her body a masterpiece of temptation. But that beauty wasn’t meant for the eyes of strangers — it belonged to Logan and me, and no one else. If she honestly believed we’d let her step one foot inside that place without us, she’d lost her damn mind.

Of course we followed her. There was no other choice. But being there, watching every wolf in the room devour her with their eyes, had pushed me to the edge. Some didn’t even have the decency to care whether they were mated or not. None of them got close enough to touch her — at least, not those who didn’t come wrapped in the disguise of friendship.

And Silas...

That boy might’ve claimed to be "just a friend," but it was clear as day — the way he looked at her, the way he hovered, the way his body gravitated to hers on that stage. Every moment was a new insult to the self-control I barely held onto. I’d had to hold Ghost back more than once to stop him from shifting and tearing the little bastard’s throat out.

As if that wasn’t enough, Alpha Blackwell had the nerve to openly lust after her, his Luna sitting right there beside him, forced to witness his shameless display. My heart broke for her. Mates were sacred. Chosen. The Moon Goddess did not make mistakes. Logan and I would never dream of treating Lia the way Blackwell treated his Luna. If that was the kind of Alpha he was, then his pack deserved better.

The only salvation that night had been her voice. Hearing her sing — watching her pour her entire heart into each note — left me in awe. I could’ve stood there, frozen in time, just listening to her for the rest of my life.

That moment stirred something I could no longer hold back. I knew it then, beyond the mate bond, beyond reason — I loved her. And when I told Logan, I’d braced for the argument, for the logic, for the "it’s too soon" speech.

But he didn’t argue. He felt it too. Because it didn’t matter how long we’d known her. Anyone who truly knew Dahlia Sterling couldn’t help but fall for her. Mate bond or not, loving her was inevitable.

And yet, even now, wrapped around her as I was, the gnawing sense of uncertainty wouldn’t let go. I had laid everything bare last night, and still, there were walls she wouldn’t let me past.

When the night ended, and Silas once again had his hands on her, helping her off the stage after she nearly fell, my patience finally snapped. I was grateful to him for catching her — I’d admit that much — but seeing her in his arms, watching him lean in close, whispering against her skin... that was too much.

Logan had pulled her away before I could, and I was still seething by the time we reached the car.

I climbed into the backseat and pulled her into my lap the moment Logan handed her over, needing the closeness, needing to remind myself — remind both of us — that she was ours. That nothing, no one, could change that.

She squirmed, trying to fight against my grip, but it only made me hold her tighter. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not until we understood why she kept trying to.

But all of it — the anger, the jealousy, the confusion — vanished the instant I felt her start to cry.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.