Chapter eight - Don't look at me like that!

I couldn’t breathe.

Applause thundered in my ears, but it felt distant. Like I was underwater, or maybe trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

Their eyes were still on me.

All three of them. And it was both grounding and suffocating.

I didn’t know how I made it out of the ballroom, but somehow my feet moved. Past Naomi and Tessa’s worried voices, past the crowd and the flashing lights and the questions buzzing in the air.

Out. I just needed out.

The cold air outside hit me like a slap. I stumbled down the stone steps into the garden behind the Alpha mansion, my breath ragged, my heart pounding like it was trying to break free from my chest.

No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be real.

They couldn’t be my mates.

Anyone but them.

I found the old stone railing at the far end of the garden and gripped it with trembling fingers. My wolf whimpered in my chest, longing for them. Longing. Like she was desperate to return to something we had waited for our whole lives.

But they? They had bullied me. Mocked me. Hurt me over and over again for years.

I bit back a sob, covering my mouth with my hand.

The scent hit first — fresh rain, a cinnamon note — and I knew before I heard the footsteps that one of them had followed me.

“Daphne.”

Kyren’s voice was soft. Almost unsure. Like he was afraid I’d bolt if he spoke too loud.

I turned, slowly. He stood at the edge of the garden path, hands raised like I was something fragile. His shirt was still half-buttoned, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, his hair falling into his eyes.

“You ran,” he said gently, stepping forward. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t.” My voice cracked. “Don’t come any closer.”

He stopped. Pain flickered across his face, but he respected the space.

Then another scent—sharper, smoky, hotter—rushed in with the wind.

Maddox.

I flinched as he appeared beside Kyren, chest rising and falling like he’d run a marathon. His white shirt clung to him, blazer unbuttoned, hair tousled.

“Daphne,” he breathed, his voice rough yet soft. Did that make sense? “We need to talk to you.”

I backed up, nearly tripping. “No, you don’t.”

Jaxon appeared last, calm yet desperate, but his eyes… his eyes burned. All three of them had this look I couldn’t understand. Not anger. Not amusement.

Need.

“You feel it too,” Jaxon said quietly. “Please Daphne, don’t deny it.”

I swallowed, my throat dry.

“This is some kind of joke, right?” I whispered. “You think this is funny? I’m your new favorite game now?”

Maddox stepped forward, his voice cracking with hurt. “What? No. Baby, Daphne, this isn’t—” My heart clenched at the hurt in his voice, my Wolf whimpering but I wasn't having any of it.

“You bullied me,” I snapped, suddenly shaking. “You made my life miserable. You laughed when people mocked me. You shoved me between yourselves like I was some football. You threw my books in the mud. You called me ugly — every day for years.”

Silence.

Jaxon looked down.

Kyren’s jaw clenched, his looking at his foot.

Maddox’s fists curled at his sides but his voice was low, soft, pained. “We didn’t know we hurt you that much.”

“That doesn’t erase it!” I shouted. “You were cruel. And now you expect me to just… just forget that because some bond tells you I’m yours?”

They said nothing.

I turned to leave, but Jaxon spoke again — low, pained.

“We’re really sorry.”

I froze.

“We’re sorry, Daphne. We don’t have an excuse. We were horrible. I know that and we're sorry. But we didn’t know. And even before we did—” he hesitated, voice thickening, “—we... noticed you. I know you don't believe me but we… we thought about you. A lot. More than we should’ve.”

Maddox ran a hand through his hair, looking like he wanted to push me against a wall, his voice rough but low. “I’ve dreamt about you. Before this. Before we knew.”

Kyren’s voice was almost a whisper. “You were always more than what people said.”

I shook my head, a tear sliding down my cheek before I could stop it. “That's a lie. It’s too late anyway.”

Their eyes widened in horror.