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Alora's POV:

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest as my eyes locked on him. It was really him, standing there like some immovable force at the doorway.

Alpha Mathias.

His piercing gaze bored into me, his eyebrows furrowed as though he was trying to decipher every hidden thought in my mind. 

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly parched as I scrambled for words.

“I can explain… it’s just…” My voice faltered, the words dying on my lips.

 My mind raced, desperate to form a coherent thought, but nothing came. 

I turned, almost instinctively, to the triplets for support. Surely, one of them would come to my rescue, but to my shock, the spot where they had laid just moments ago was empty.

I blinked once. Twice.

 Were my eyes playing tricks on me? No, they were gone. Vanished without a trace.

How had they disappeared so quickly? They were just here.

“Are you okay?” Alpha Mathias’s deep voice snapped me out of my daze, dragging my attention back to him. His brow remained arched, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion etched into his expression.

“Yes,” I muttered awkwardly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What were you talking about earlier? Something about explaining?” he pressed, stepping closer. 

His imposing frame seemed to fill the room, and I instinctively straightened my posture, trying to keep my composure. My heart raced, pounding loud enough that I was sure he could hear it.

“I… I wanted to explain why I didn’t respond when you called my name,” I stammered, forcing the words out. “Before you entered the room, I mean.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he studied me in silence, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to peel back the layers of my soul. The weight of his gaze made it nearly impossible to think.

“I just woke up,” I added hastily, hoping to fill the oppressive silence. “I was still a little disoriented.”

Without warning, he reached out and cupped my jaw, tilting my face upward so I was forced to meet his piercing eyes. His touch was firm but not harsh, though it sent a shiver down my spine.

“I see your body has adapted to being a slave,” he said, his voice calm but laced with an unsettling edge. “That’s why you’re acting like this.”

He paused, shaking his head slightly as a faint, almost mocking smirk tugged at his lips.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he clicked his tongue, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. “But I don’t blame you. All those years of trauma… it really sticks, doesn’t it?”

My hands curled into fists at my sides, but I forced myself to maintain eye contact. His words cut deeper than I cared to admit, but showing any sign of weakness would only embolden him further.

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “I’m your husband now. You don’t need to explain yourself over trivial things like this. You’re not a slave anymore.”

“Okay,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.

 He smiled faintly at my response, his hand patting my cheek in a way that felt more condescending than affectionate.

“Good girl,” he said, the words dripping with a smug satisfaction that made my skin crawl. He turned away and strode toward the wardrobe, opening it with a casual air as though our exchange had been nothing more than a passing conversation.

“You didn’t go to the human realm again, did you?” I asked cautiously, watching as he rummaged through the neatly arranged contents of the wardrobe.

“I forgot something,” he replied curtly, not bothering to look at me.

Silence settled over the room once more, broken only by the soft rustle of clothing and the occasional thud as items were carelessly displaced. I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or if I even should say anything.

“Found it,” he announced suddenly, holding up a small key. His lips curled into a crooked smile that sent a chill down my spine.

“I’m sure you’ve met your stepsons,” he said, his tone oddly casual as he pocketed the key. His gaze flicked back to me, expectant.

“Yes, I’ve met them,” I replied, my voice stiff.

“And?” he prompted.

“They’re… good,” I said hesitantly, unsure of what answer he was fishing for.

He hummed thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. “Good is fine,” he said after a moment. “Make sure you treat them well, Alora. You’re their mother now, after all. It’s important that you foster a strong bond as a family.”

The way he said those words made my stomach turn. It wasn’t just the implication of suddenly being a mother to three grown men—it was the way he said it, as though he were relishing my discomfort.

I was only 21. The idea of playing “mother” to the triplets, who were all 23 and very much their own people, was laughable. And yet, there was nothing funny about the situation. It was suffocating, overwhelming, and utterly absurd.

“I’ll be leaving in an hour,” Alpha Mathias said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Get ready for breakfast.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving the room without a backward glance.

The moment the door clicked shut, I exhaled shakily, realizing too late that I’d been holding my breath the entire time. My shoulders sagged as the tension drained from my body, but my mind was still racing.

That was close.

My thoughts immediately returned to the triplets. How had they managed to vanish so quickly? Were they still in the room, somehow hiding in plain sight? No, that couldn’t be it. Alpha Mathias would have picked up their scent if they were.

Then my eyes fell on the window. It had been closed earlier, I was sure of it, but now it was open, the curtains billowing slightly in the breeze. They must have escaped through there.

I approached the window and leaned out slightly, my eyes scanning the field below. 

The morning sun bathed the area in a warm golden glow, and the pack members were already bustling about, each one immersed in their own tasks. Some were tending to the gardens, while others carried supplies or chatted in small groups.

My gaze caught on a small piece of paper tucked into the windowsill. Frowning, I plucked it free and unfolded it. Scrawled across the page in bold, mocking letters was a message that sent a wave of conflicting emotions through me:

“You’re welcome, dearest stepmother. - Thorne”

A mix of irritation and amusement bubbled up within me as I read the note. I could almost hear Thorne’s smug voice in my head, the way he would draw out the words just to get under my skin. Despite myself, a small smile tugged at my lips.

Crushing the paper in my hand, I quickly retrieved a lighter from the desk drawer. I lit the note and watched as the flame consumed it, the ashes scattering into the wind as I tossed them out the window.

These brothers would be the death of me, I thought, shaking my head. If I wasn’t careful, their games and antics would drive me to the brink of madness.

But I couldn’t let them or anyone else ruin me. I had already endured too much, and I refused to go back to being a nobody. No matter what it took, I would find a way to gain acceptance of my rejection from them. 

That was the only way to stop this feeling.