Claiming Both Alphas

One husband. One younger version of him. Both Alphas. Both mine. My mate came home early and found a boy with his own face hiding in our closet. Same scent. Same name. Different rules.

The young one worships me on his knees. The old one won't even mark me. So I stopped choosing. I told them both: stay or leave—but if you stay, you share. Now every night is a war. And I'm not the prize. I'm the queen who decides who fights and who wins.