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Claimed By The Touch-Starved Alpha Beasts Novel Cover

Claimed By The Touch-Starved Alpha Beasts

I woke up choking on rotting air in an alien jungle, surrounded by giant bioluminescent ferns and a three-eyed, armor-plated beast charging straight at me. Before the monster could tear me apart, I was saved by a squad of men with metallic wings and laser rifles, but my nightmare was just beginning. When they brought me back to their high-tech military base, every soldier we passed stopped dead, staring at me with a feverish, starving hunger that made my skin crawl. In the medical wing, a manic doctor bypassed all protocol, pulling out a wicked silver needle to forcibly extract my blood, looking at me not as a patient, but as a winning lottery ticket. Even their highest-ranking commander, a giant, scarred Admiral, immediately tried to claim me, demanding I be moved into his personal bedroom for "protection." I didn't understand why I was being treated like a caged miracle, nor why a simple, accidental touch of my hand could bring my winged protector to his knees and silence his feral instincts. "In the Aethel Empire, there are no females," my protector whispered, his icy blue eyes filled with raw desperation. "You are the only one." The portal that brought me here was fading, trapping me in a universe of eighty billion shapeshifting Alpha males. Looking at the terrifying devotion in his eyes, I realized my life as an ordinary human was over, and to survive this, I had to tame the beasts.
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Chapter 8

Cassandra stood in the center of the quiet room, letting the silence wash over her.

She walked over to the large bed and sank onto the edge. The mattress was incredibly soft. She buried her face in her hands, letting out a long, shuddering breath.

I'm alive. I'm safe. For now.

A soft scratching sound broke the silence.

Cassandra lifted her head. The sound was coming from the door.

She stood up, her heart rate instantly spiking again. She walked cautiously toward the entrance. The scratching continued, accompanied by a high-pitched, pathetic whine.

She pressed the release button. The door slid open a few inches.

A small, golden head poked through the gap.

Cassandra gasped and took a step back.

It was a lion cub. Or something very close to it. It had thick, golden fur, oversized paws, and large, incredibly expressive dark eyes.

The cub didn't look vicious. It looked terrified.

It squeezed through the opening and trotted into the room. It didn't explore. It walked straight toward Cassandra, let out a soft mewl, and pressed its small body against her shin.

Cassandra stared down at the creature. The sheer absurdity of a lion cub roaming a high-tech military base short-circuited her fear.

Slowly, she crouched down. She reached out a trembling hand and lightly touched the fur on the top of its head.

It was impossibly soft. The cub leaned into her touch, closing its eyes and emitting a loud, vibrating purr that rumbled against her leg.

Cassandra couldn't help it. A small smile broke across her face. She scooped the cub into her arms. It felt warm and solid, smelling faintly of milk and clean fur.

The door slid open entirely.

Jefferson stood in the doorway. He looked at Cassandra holding the cub, and a deep sigh escaped his lips. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking immensely frustrated.

"I apologize," Jefferson said, stepping into the room. "He slipped past the guards."

Cassandra held the cub closer. "It's fine. He's cute. Is he a base mascot or something?"

Jefferson's expression turned grim. He closed the door behind him, ensuring it locked.

"That is Admiral Bonner's son," Jefferson said, his voice slow and deliberate. "His name is Finn. He must have slipped past the guards."

Cassandra's eyes widened. The terrifying, scarred Admiral had a son—a lion cub? She crouched down, reaching out a trembling hand to touch the fur on top of its head. It was impossibly soft. The cub leaned into her touch, closing its eyes and emitting a loud, vibrating purr.

A small, genuine smile broke across Cassandra's face. She scooped the cub into her arms. It felt warm and solid, smelling faintly of milk and clean fur.

Jefferson watched the scene, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. He recognized the tactical brilliance of what the Admiral was doing—sending his own cub, innocent and helpless, to soften the Prime's heart. A clever, shameless move.

But looking at Cassandra now, laughing softly with the warm little creature in her arms, Jefferson realized something far more dangerous: the cub was winning.

"He's adorable," Cassandra murmured, scratching behind the cub's ear. The little lion let out a rumbling purr, closing its eyes in bliss.

Jefferson forced his voice to remain neutral. "Admiral Bonner raises him alone. The cub has never shown interest in anyone outside the Admiral's immediate circle." He paused, watching the cub snuggle deeper into Cassandra's embrace. "Until now."

Cassandra looked up, her expression soft. "Maybe he just needed some warmth."

Jefferson hesitated. He looked at the cub, but seeing the way Cassandra held him, Jefferson lied smoothly. "But you must understand our nature. We are shapeshifters. As am I."

Cassandra's arms tightened around the cub. Shapeshifters. The sci-fi horror just leveled up to fantasy horror.

"All Alphas are," Jefferson continued, his voice dropping lower.

"Alphas," Cassandra echoed. She swallowed hard. "Okay. Fine. You turn into animals. Are there... are there other women here? Women who don't turn into animals?"

She needed to know. She needed to know she wasn't the only normal person on this insane planet.

Jefferson stopped walking. He stood a few feet away from her. The air in the room suddenly felt incredibly heavy, pressing down on Cassandra's lungs.

Jefferson looked at her with a mixture of profound sorrow and absolute reverence.

"Cassie," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "In the Aethel Empire, there are no Primes."

"Primes?"

"You are... the only one," Jefferson said, his gaze never leaving her face, his English stumbling over the weight of the revelation. "Your gender. We are all Alphas. There are no others like you here. We rely on suppressants to control our instincts."

The words hit Cassandra like physical blows. The only one. No other women. The room started to spin. The walls felt like they were closing in, crushing her.

She wasn't a guest. She wasn't a curiosity.

She was the ultimate prize. The only resource that mattered.

Pure, unadulterated terror seized her heart. Her fingers went numb, almost dropping the cub.

She looked at Jefferson, her eyes wide with panic.

"I want to go home," she gasped, her voice cracking. "I want to go home right now."

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