Forbidden by the Triplet Alphas

The contract promised safety. It promised a roof, food, a future. It did not promise kindness. I learned that before my mother’s fingers stopped trembling against my arm.We stood in the marble foyer of Blackwood Manor, two wolves dressed in rags, surrounded by a fortune in dark wood and cold stone. The air smelled of cedar and old money, but beneath that lurked something feral—the unmistakable weight of an alpha’s territory, pressed into my lungs like smoke. My wolf stirred weakly, still sluggish from weeks of grief, and then went still again. She knew what I knew. We did not belong here.My mother’s grip tightened until her nails bit through the thin fabric of my sleeve. She was trying to be brave. I could smell her fear beneath the cheap drugstore perfume—sour, desperate, the scent of a woman who had run out of choices. Six weeks ago, she had watched them carry my father’s body back to our crumbling pack house, his throat torn open by rogues who wanted our land. Six weeks of hunger

The summons came before I had finished my breakfast.Luna appeared in the kitchen doorway, her face unreadable. Alpha Marcus requires you in the main hall. His sons as well. You are to attend immediately.I set down the bread I had been eating. My stomach tightened. The main hall was where contracts were signed and judgments delivered. I had not been summoned there since the night I arrived.I followed Luna through the corridors, my heartbeat steady despite the dread coiling in my chest. My mother was not beside me. That was deliberate. Whatever this was, it was meant for me alone.The main hall was transformed from the night of our arrival. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, illuminating the marble floors, the gilded mirrors, the massive chandelier that hung like a frozen waterfall. Marcus sat in his throne-like chair, his hands resting on the arms, his grey eyes fixed on the doors as I entered.The triplets were already there.Theron lounged against the wall to the left, his

The first week at Silver Creek Academy carved itself into my bones.Every morning, I walked through the gates with Iris at my side, my borrowed blazer too big, my secondhand bag clutched to my chest. Every morning, the whispers followed me like shadows. The stray. The charity case. The girl who slept in the same house as the Triplet Alphas and thought that made her one of them.And every day, the triplets reminded me exactly where I stood.Theron was the worst. He did not touch me again—not after the chapel—but his eyes never left me. In the cafeteria, he sat at the raised table with his brothers, his gaze burning into my skin. In the corridors, he appeared at the edges of my vision, his grin sharp, his presence a constant pressure on my chest. The other students took their cues from him. My locker was jammed with garbage. My textbooks went missing, only to reappear in the girls' bathroom, soaked in water. A group of girls led by Lorna Hale—the alpha's daughter, the one betrothed to C

The night air bit at my skin as I ran through the forest. Cassian was ahead of me, his body cutting through the darkness like a blade. Behind us came Theron and Lysander, their footsteps silent, their presence a wall of fury at my back. Marcus had forbidden this. He had said wait, plan, strike at dawn. But I had not waited. I could not. Every second I stood in that ruined room, my mother’s locket cold in my palm, was a second she might be dying. Cassian had not argued. When I said I was going, he had simply nodded. The gold was still in his eyes, and I knew he was not thinking of strategy or orders. He was thinking of the rogue who had dared to touch what was his. We reached the border in twenty minutes. The clearing was old, a scar in the forest where trees had been cut down generations ago. Moonlight flooded the open space, turning the grass silver. And in the center, bound to a wooden stake, was my mother. Her face was bruised, her lip split, her hair tangled with leaves and b

I did not run.Cassian’s hand was around my wrist, his eyes blazing gold, his body already turning toward the window. One leap and we would be in the garden. Another and we would reach the trees. He had a plan. I could see it in the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders.But I pulled my hand free.No, I said.His expression shifted. Confusion. Frustration. Something that looked almost like fear. Ravenna, if you stay—If I stay, I finish this. I turned to face the corridor where Marcus’s voice still echoed. I am done running. I have been running my whole life. From rogues. From poverty. From the truth of what I am. It ends now.Cassian stared at me. His chest was heaving, his hands clenched at his sides. I saw the war in him—the part that wanted to throw me over his shoulder and carry me to safety, and the part that understood exactly what I meant.You do not know what you are facing, he said.Neither do they.I walked past him into the corridor.Theron and Lysander were waiting