Chapter 4: They are more of you?

Elara:

Elara's brain had officially stopped working.

There was no other explanation for why she was standing in her grandmother's backyard, pressed against the naked chest of a man who had been a wolf sixty seconds ago, while more howls echoed through the forest like something out of a nightmare.

This wasn't real.

It couldn't be real.

"Let me go," she said again, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to sound calm. "Right now."

The man....Kieran, her traitorous brain supplied...just smiled wider. It wasn't a comforting smile. It was the smile of a predator who'd just cornered its prey and was enjoying the hunt a little too much.

"No," he said simply.

"I'll scream."

"You already tried that."

"I'll scream louder."

"Go ahead." His amber eyes...the same eyes she'd seen glowing in his wolf form...glittered with amusement. "See who comes running."

Elara opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Because he was right. If she screamed, who would help her? She was a mile outside a town that had looked abandoned when she'd driven through it. She had no cell service. No neighbors. No one who even knew she was here except her grandmother's lawyer, and he was six hours away.

She was completely, utterly alone.

With a naked werewolf.

Werewolf.

The word echoed in her head like a bell, and she felt hysterical laughter bubbling up in her throat. Werewolves weren't real. They were myths. Stories. Things that existed in movies and books, not in real life, not in her grandmother's backyard.

"Breathe," Kieran said, his voice suddenly less amused and more... concerned?

Elara realized she was hyperventilating.

"I'm going to pass out," she gasped.

"No, you're not." His grip on her tightened, not painfully, but firmly, like he was trying to anchor her. "Look at me. Elara. Look at me."

She didn't want to look at him. Looking at him meant acknowledging that this was real, that she was really standing here with a man who'd been a wolf, that the world she thought she knew had just shattered into a million pieces.

But his voice was so commanding, so absolutely certain, that she found herself obeying anyway.

Their eyes locked.

And that feeling crashed over her again...the same one she'd felt when she'd touched his fur. Like lightning and honey and something pulling tight in her chest, something that whispered home and safe and mine in a voice that wasn't quite her own.

"What is that?" she whispered. "What...what did you do to me?"

Something flickered in Kieran's eyes. Something dark and possessive and almost... triumphant.

"I didn't do anything," he said softly. "That's the mate bond."

"The what?"

But before he could answer, the howls came again, closer this time, so close she could hear the crashing of underbrush as something massive tore through the forest toward them.

Multiple somethings.

Elara's heart, which had just started to slow down, kicked into overdrive again.

"Please," she breathed, abandoning pride in favor of pure survival instinct. "Please let me go. I won't tell anyone. I'll leave. I'll..."

"You're not leaving."

"Please...."

"They're my brothers," Kieran said, cutting her off. His hand moved from her waist to cup the back of her neck, his thumb brushing along her jaw in a gesture that was somehow both soothing and possessive. "They won't hurt you."

"Your brothers?" Elara's voice pitched upward. "There are more of you?"

Kieran's smile turned absolutely wicked. "Three of us, actually. Triplets."

Oh god.

"I want to go inside," Elara said desperately. "I want to go inside and lock the door and pretend this never happened...."

"Too late."

And then they exploded from the tree line.

Two more wolves....just as massive as Kieran had been, just as impossible. One had fur the color of dark steel, all muscle and coiled violence. The other was slightly leaner, with midnight-black fur that seemed to drink in the moonlight.

They skidded to a halt at the edge of the clearing, their glowing eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her knees go weak.

Elara made a small, strangled sound.

Kieran's grip tightened. "Easy," he murmured against her ear. "Don't run. Running triggers the chase instinct."

"The what..."

But it was too late.

The steel-colored wolf took one step forward, its massive head lowering, its eyes locked on her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And Elara's survival instincts, which had been screaming at her to run run RUN since the moment Kieran had shifted, finally overrode her common sense.

She twisted out of Kieran's grip....his surprised curse following her....and bolted.

She made it exactly three steps before something slammed into her from behind.

Elara hit the ground hard, the breath rushing out of her lungs. Massive paws bracketed her shoulders, and hot breath ghosted over the back of her neck as a wolf....the steel-colored one, pinned her to the grass.

She froze.

Every muscle in her body locked up as pure, primal terror flooded her system. This was it. This was how she died. Torn apart by wolves in her grandmother's backyard because she'd been stupid enough to fall asleep outside.

The wolf growled.

But it wasn't an aggressive sound. It was... frustrated? Annoyed?

And then, impossibly, it was shifting.

Elara felt the weight on her back change, felt fur become skin, felt paws become hands that were suddenly gripping her shoulders and rolling her over onto her back.

She found herself staring up at another man.

This one was even bigger than Kieran....broader through the shoulders, harder in the face. His dark hair was slightly longer, pushed back from his forehead, and his eyes were a deep, stormy gray that seemed to see straight through her.

He was also completely naked.

And he looked furious.

"What the hell did you do?" he snarled...not at her, but over his shoulder at Kieran.

"I didn't do anything!" Kieran shot back. "She ran!"

"You scared her, you idiot..."

"I scared her? You're the one who tackled her!"

"She was running toward the forest! What was I supposed to do, let her bolt into the dark where anything could...."

"Both of you, shut up."

The voice was cold. Commanding. Absolutely dripping with authority.

Both men went silent immediately.

Elara's head turned...as much as it could with a massive man pinning her to the ground, and she saw the third wolf.

No. The third man.

He'd shifted too, and he was walking toward them with the kind of predatory grace that made her think of large cats. Dangerous. Controlled. Like violence wrapped in skin that was barely holding it in.

He was the tallest of the three, his dark hair cut short, his eyes so dark they were almost black. And unlike his brothers, who both looked like they were in their late twenties, this one had scars...a thick one cutting through his left eyebrow, another across his collarbone, more scattered across his chest and abs.

He looked like he'd been through a war.

And he was staring at her like she was the spoils.

"Get off her, Caspian," he said quietly.

The man pinning her...Caspian....looked like he wanted to argue. But after a tense moment, he pushed himself up and off her, rising to his full height.

Elara scrambled backward, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

All three of them were standing there now. Three massive, naked men who'd been wolves less than five minutes ago. Triplets, apparently....identical in build if not in scars and expression.

And they were all looking at her.

"This is insane," Elara heard herself say. Her voice sounded distant, detached. "This is insane."

"Elara...." Kieran started.

"Don't." She held up a shaking hand. "Don't...don't say my name. Don't..." She was backing toward the cottage now, her eyes darting between the three of them. "I'm going inside. I'm going inside and I'm locking the door and when I wake up tomorrow this is going to have been a very, very weird dream..."

"It's not a dream," the scarred one said.

His voice was different from his brothers'. Deeper. Rougher. Like gravel and whiskey and promises he had no intention of breaking.

Elara's back hit the cottage wall.

She was trapped.

Three werewolves between her and the forest. A wall behind her. No weapons. No phone. No way out.

"Please," she whispered, hating how small her voice sounded. "Please just let me go."

The scarred one took a step closer.

Elara pressed herself harder against the wall.

"My name is Alaric," he said quietly. "I'm the oldest. The one who tackled you is Caspian. And you've already met Kieran."

"I don't care what your names are," Elara said, her voice cracking. "I want you to leave."

"We can't do that."

"Why not?"

Alaric's dark eyes held hers, and for a moment, Elara saw something flicker in their depths. Something that looked almost like... regret?

"Because you belong to us," he said simply.