Chapter One

I kept my head down, moving the damp rag in slow circles over the mahogany banister. I had to finish the west wing before six. If I didn’t, Anastasia would find another excuse to lock me in the cellar again.

And the cellar… that place made the memories of my parents too loud.

"You missed a spot, Kia."

I froze.

I didn’t need to look up. The scent hit me first, cedarwood mixed with rain.

Ryder.

The oldest of the triplets. Older by only three minutes, but he acted like it made him king of the world.

"I’ll get it, Ryder," I said quietly.

His boots stopped right in front of me. Polished. Perfect. Just like him.

Cold. Untouchable.

"It’s Alpha Ryder to you, little mouse."

His gloved hand grabbed my chin, forcing my head up.

My breath caught.

The curse.

His eyes weren't the warm brown they should have been. They were swirling with a dark, murky grey. The curse was acting up. I could see the tension in his jaw, the way the muscles in his neck corded. 

He was in pain, the kind of soul-deep agony that only the Volkov bloodline suffered.

"You look pathetic," he sneered.

 "Covered in dust and sweat. Why did my father ever bring you here?"

Something inside me snapped.

"Because my parents died so yours could live."

His eyes darkened instantly.

For a second, they went almost black.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear.

"They died for nothing," he whispered. "All they did was leave us with a useless, wolfless burden.”

Suddenly, the front door slammed open.

Liam and Kratavak walked in, both looking like hell.

"It’s happening again," Liam growled, tearing at his tie. He was usually the most composed of the three, but today his blonde hair was disheveled, and his skin was deathly pale. 

"The voices... they won't stop whispering, Ryder."

Kratavak, the most volatile of the three, didn't speak. He kicked a porcelain vase near the entryway, sending shards of white and gold flying across the floor. He paced around, his fingers clawing at his own chest.

The curse was hitting them all at once. The "Volkov Madness."

"Get over here," Ryder ordered, letting go of my chin so abruptly I stumbled.

I didn’t move.

"I have to finish cleaning, Alpha."

His voice dropped.

"Did I ask about the floor?"

"I said come here. Now!."

I swallowed and stood up.

I didn’t have a choice.

If I didn’t help them, they’d destroy everything.

As I walked closer, the air felt heavier. Like trying to breathe underwater.

They stood in a circle, tall and dangerous. Three towering figures of raw, masculine power.

"Touch them, Kia," Anastasia’s voice came from the top of the stairs.

My stepmother looked down at us. She hated me more than the boys did, mostly because I was the only thing that kept her sons from becoming monsters. She hated that her "perfect" Alphas needed a "filthy human" to stay sane.

"Help your brothers," she commanded.

I reached out, my hands trembling. I placed one palm on Liam’s chest and the other on Kratavak’s arm.

The effect was instantaneous.

The moment my skin met theirs, a visible shudder ran through them. The grey in their eyes began to recede, replaced by the natural amber and brown. The frantic energy in the room died down to a low hum.

I felt it, too. A cold, numbing sensation crawled up my arms, a vacuum that sucked the warmth out of my body. That was the price. I was the anchor. I took their darkness and held it so they didn't have to.

Kratavak exhaled a long, shaky breath. He looked down at my hand on his arm, his eyes narrowing. He didn't say thank you. He never did. Instead, he wrapped his large hand around my wrist, his thumb digging into the bone.

"You’re late today," Kratavak muttered, his voice raspy. "We were at the border for three hours. The pain was nearly unbearable."

"I was busy," I said, trying to pull my hand away. He didn't let go.

"Busy doing what? Dreaming of a mate who will never come for you?" Kratavak laughed, a harsh, jagged sound.

 "Who would want a mate who reeks of like lemon polish and failure?"

"Enough," Ryder said, though he didn't move to help me. He watched us with a predatory stillness. 

"Let her go. She has work to do."

Kratavak flung my hand away as if it were trash. 

"She's getting weaker, Ryder. The transition didn't last as long this time."

Liam smoothed his hair back, his face returning to its usual mask of aristocratic boredom. 

"We need a more permanent solution. The council is already asking why the Volkov heirs haven't taken their positions in the capital."

"The solution is simple," Anastasia said, descending the stairs with the grace of a viper. She stopped in front of me, her eyes scanning my face for any sign of weakness.

 "The girl is nineteen. She’s of age."

My blood turned to ice. "Of age for what?"

Anastasia smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "To fulfill your purpose, Kia. You were kept here for a reason. Not just to clean, and not just to soothe a few headaches."

She looked at her sons, a glimmer of something twisted in her gaze.

"The bloodline needs to be stabilized. If a simple touch can calm the curse, imagine what a child from your womb could do for them. A child born of the anchor and the Alpha."

I looked at the triplets. I expected to see horror on their faces. I expected them to reject the idea of touching someone they despised so openly.

But they weren't looking at me with horror.

Liam was studying me as if I were a piece of livestock he was considering purchasing. Kratavak had a smirk playing on his lips, a dark, dangerous thing.

And Ryder... Ryder just stepped closer, his shadow falling over me, blotting out the light from the chandelier.

"A breeder," Ryder mused, the word tasting like poison. "It’s a fitting role for a girl who has no wolf of her own. At least you’d finally be useful."

"I am your sister," I whispered, my voice breaking.

"Step-sister," Kratavak corrected, his eyes roaming over my body in a way that made me want to scream. 

"And only because our father was a fool for a pretty face. There is no Volkov blood in you, Kia. You’re just a guest who has overstayed her welcome."

"I won't do it," I said, my voice gaining strength. 

Ryder’s hand shot out, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back until I was forced to look into his dark eyes.

"You aren't going anywhere," he hissed. "You belong to this pack. You belong to this house. And if we decide you belong in our beds, then that is where you will be."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Don't worry, little mouse. We’ll make sure you’re well-taken care of. After all, we wouldn't want the mother of our heirs to be unhappy, would we?"

He let go of me, and I collapsed onto the floor, my knees hitting the hard marble.

"Clean up the mess Kratavak made," Anastasia said, stepping over me as if I were a rug. 

"And then go to your room. We have a guest arriving tonight for the gala. The Lycan King is visiting the Northern territories, and we will not have you embarrassing us."

The triplets followed her toward the dining hall, leaving me alone in the cold foyer.

My hands were shaking so hard I could barely pick them up.

A breeder.