LOGINBorn as an omega, Aisla never expected to draw the attention of one Alpha, let alone three. The triplet heirs of Silvercrest Pack are powerful, dangerous, and bound by a prophecy that ties their fate to hers. But when the Moon Goddess marks Aisla as the mate of all three brothers, the pack is thrown into chaos. Love turns to rivalry, loyalty clashes with desire, and the ancient laws demand a sacrifice. Between passion, power, and destiny, Aisla must decide whether to follow her heart or fulfil the prophecy that could destroy them all.
View MoreAisla’s POV
The glass shattered in my hand.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” I whispered, staring at the fragments scattered across the marble floor. Red wine spread like blood, dark and glistening under the light.
My stomach twisted. The Luna would kill me if she found out. One of these glasses probably cost more than I made cleaning the pack house in a month—maybe even three.
I dropped to my knees, picking up the shards with my bare hands. I had to clean it up before anyone saw. Before anyone remembered I existed long enough to punish me.
“Stupid Aisla,” I muttered under my breath. “Why can’t you do anything right? Why are you always a mess?”
Today was supposed to be special—my eighteenth birthday. But like every other day, I was invisible. No one remembered. No one cared.
Upstairs, laughter and music drifted through the walls. The Alpha’s sons—the infamous triplets—were returning after two years of warrior training. The whole pack was celebrating. Everyone except me.
A sharp sting burned my palm. I glanced down—blood welled up, sliding across my skin. But something was wrong.
Under the moonlight spilling through the window, my blood shimmered silver.
I blinked. Once. Twice.
No. That wasn’t possible. Blood wasn’t silver. It was red. It had always been red.
“Great, Aisla,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Now you’re hallucinating too.”
I wiped my hand on my apron, and the glow vanished. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe being unseen for so long was finally making me lose my mind.
Footsteps clicked down the stairs. My breath caught.
“Aisla!” Elaria’s sharp voice sliced through the quiet.
Panic jolted through me. The Beta’s daughter—the pack’s golden girl. Perfect blonde curls, emerald eyes, beauty that made everyone adore her. The Luna doted on her like she was a princess. The triplets probably would too.
“I’m cleaning, Miss Elaria,” I said, my voice small.
Her heels tapped closer. I picked up the glass faster, cutting my fingers again. Pain flared, but I didn’t stop.
“The triplets will be here any minute,” she said, not even looking at me. “Make sure you stay in the kitchen. No one wants to see you at the party.”
My chest tightened. “Yes, Miss Elaria.”
“And clean up that mess. You’re always breaking things.” She turned, then glanced back with a smirk. “Try not to embarrass the pack tonight, Aisla. Some of us actually matter.”
She left. Her laughter echoed upstairs, joining the music.
I sank back on my heels, fighting tears. Eighteen years old today, and I was still nothing. The invisible girl. The forgotten omega.
My wolf stirred inside me—angry, restless. She wanted to run, to escape this place. But where would we go? We had no one. No family. No friends. No home beyond this pack that didn’t even see us.
I forced myself to keep cleaning, ignoring the sting in my hands. Pain was a familiar companion.
Then—the front doors burst open.
Male voices filled the house, deep and confident. My wolf snapped to attention.
“We’re home!” someone shouted.
The triplets. Kieran, Lucien, and Caelan—the Alpha’s heirs. Every girl in the pack dreamed of them.
I scrambled toward the kitchen, desperate to disappear. But before I could slip through the door, a scent hit me—wild and intoxicating.
Pine and snow. Leather and smoke. Power and danger.
It wrapped around me like fire and ice. My knees trembled. The mop fell from my hands.
My wolf went wild.
“What’s happening to me?” I whispered, clutching my chest. My pulse thundered.
Footsteps echoed closer.
“Do you smell that?” a deep voice asked.
“Honey and wildflowers,” another replied, rough and dark. “It’s intoxicating.”
A third voice, low and calm, said, “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever smelled.”
My heart stopped.
They were talking about me.
But that was impossible. I was no one—just the invisible omega girl who cleaned floors and tried not to exist.
Their footsteps drew closer—three sets, heavy and sure. My wolf clawed at my insides, howling. She wanted to run to them, not from them.
“There,” the calm voice murmured. “In the kitchen. She’s in there.”
The handle turned.
My breath hitched. My blood—silver blood—glowed faintly against my skin again, brighter now.
And somewhere deep inside my mind, I heard it—three wolves roaring in unison.
The door began to open.
And I knew my life would never be the same again.
Mora's POVThe grove was not meant for so many footsteps. It had been built for whispers and for chanting under moonlight, for the quiet stirring of herbs in bowls. Yet today, it carried the weight of warriors and the echo of Aisla's roar.I had watched her fight with them, stand among them and shield them instead of shattering them. I had watched her face them without turning them to ash. My lips had not moved, but I had wanted to smile.Wanted …but I did not.Because victory too soon was as dangerous as defeat.When the warriors left, still murmuring about the Moonblood who had spared them, I stayed. Aisla stayed too, her chest heaving, her cheeks flushed red. She swayed on her feet until I snapped my fingers and shoved a wooden stool at her."Sit," I ordered.She sank onto it with sweat dripping down her neck, but her eyes gleamed. "Did you see it, Mora? I didn't hurt him. I held it back."Her voice cracked with pride."I saw it." I stirred the bowl of herbs in my hand, the steam r
Aisla's POVThe grove had always been quiet in a way that clung to my skin and made me forget the world outside. But now the quiet was gone. My days hummed with voices…the bond tugged like a thousand strings in my chest, Mora's chants beat in my ears, and always, always, the echo of that dark whisper from the Seer."Again," Mora snapped as her staff struck the ground so sharply I flinched.I pressed my hands together, and my palms burned as I whispered the chant under my breath. The words were ancient and jagged, foreign against my tongue. Still, I forced them out."Clear the mind. Silence the bond. Still the fire."The chant echoed, and my chest loosened… just a little. The noise dimmed, and the cords to the triplets quieted enough that I could breathe without drowning in them. The Seer's voice was faint, too. It was almost gone."Good," Mora said, though her face never softened. "But your shoulders still tremble. You think silence is absence. It is not. Silence is control."I swallo
The Seer's POVThe hunters were loud tonight. They always were after their leader spoke of conquest. They sharpened their blades with too much force, laughed too hard at their crude jokes, and raised their mugs in a toast to a victory they had not yet earned. Wolves lingered at the edges of the fire, listening with suspicion with their tails low and eyes darting to me when they thought I was not looking.Fools. All of them.I sat away from both camps with my fire pale silver instead of orange and wove threads through the smoke. My fingers moved with quiet precision as I tugged at invisible strands. With each pull, the girl stirred in her sleep. Her dreams were open ground, fertile soil for the poison I fed her.Aisla flinched in her cot miles away. I felt it ripple through the threads like a shiver. My lips curved.Do you see them, child? Do you see your wolves bleed?Images bloomed in her mind. Kieran's throat torn open, Lucien's body chained in silver, Caelan screaming as arrows p
Head Hunter's POVThe firelight painted the scars across my men's faces and coloured the shadows sinking deep into the hollows of their eyes. We sat in the clearing at the edge of Bloodfang territory, the stench of wolf-scent heavy on the wind. Wolves. Even now, the word left a sour taste in my mouth."You've tied us to beasts," Garran spat, his hand never leaving the dagger at his belt. His face was twisted and half-burned from a raid years ago. "You expect us to fight alongside them? I'll soon slit one's throat while he sleeps."Murmurs rose in agreement. Hunters were not wolves. We were not meant to share fire or ground. And yet, here we were.I raised a hand and the camp fell silent. My voice cut through the smoke like steel. "We did not come to bow. We came to claim."One of the younger hunters leaned forward with gleaming eyes. "But you promised them, didn't you? You promised those dogs that if they gave us the Moonblood, we'd leave their lands. Pull back and find another place






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