Chapter six - The howl within

Third Person POV

Maddox exited Jaxon’s room with a scoff, rubbing the back of his neck. They’d been arguing — again — about patrol shifts, border surveillance, and the looming threat from the Northern rogue clans. It was boring. Repetitive. And maddening.

“I still say we shift guard rotations every moon cycle,” Jaxon had said, always the calculated one, always thinking five steps ahead.

Kyren, fresh out of the shower and towel-draped, had been lounging in the armchair. “Just let Maddox punch something and he’ll agree to anything.” he said, snorting with laughter.

Maddox had flipped him off.

That was ten minutes ago.

Now, back in his own room, Maddox stood shirtless in front of the mirror, abs still damp from his own shower, towel hanging loosely around his waist. He reached for his dress shirt, dreading the choking tightness of his ceremonial outfit. He began dressing at werewolf speed.

And that’s when it hit him.

A scent.

Holy. Shit.

His eyes widened, pupils dilating instantly.

Vanilla. Rain-soaked earth. Something sweet… wild… warm.

His wolf lunged inside him, snarling with need.

She was close.

“MINE,” the beast howled. It was faint at first but then it got closer, stronger and he let out a low groan. Jaxon and Kyren, in their rooms, had stopped dead in their tracks, taking a whiff of her scent and groaning.

Maddox don't fucking scare her away, Jaxon mind linked him.

A low groan escaped his lips before he could stop it, his body reacting like he’d been struck with lightning. His chest rose sharply.

Footsteps.

Soft. Careful.

Just outside his door.

He clenched the edge of the dresser so hard it cracked.

She’s here. She’s right there. he said through the mind link

“Don’t open that door yet. You'll fucking scare her away,” Jaxon warned.

Too late.

Maddox couldn’t take it anymore. The scent was crawling over his skin, through his lungs, down into his soul. He needed to see her. To touch her. To know

He threw the door open.

And there she was.

Daphne Hathaway.

The girl he’d mocked. The girl he’d watched. The girl who haunted more of his thoughts than he’d ever admit.

By the time Maddox yanked open his own door, she was there — Daphne — wide-eyed, breathless, and glowing like some kind of cursed angel in a black shimmering dress.

She looked like temptation.

She turned to run.

“Wait—” he choked, but her heels were already clicking furiously against the marble.

Maddox bolted after her.

Kyren and Jaxon stumbled out of their rooms right behind him — all three of them in half-buttoned white shirts, ties crooked, blazers slipping off their shoulders, hair still wet and tousled.

Then—

“Boys.”

Their mother’s voice.

Firm. Calm.

Blocking the staircase like a guard.

Maddox cursed under his breath as Daphne vanished down the steps, swallowed by the crowd.

“Move,” he growled.

Her brows lifted. “What’s gotten into—”

“She’s our fucking mate and you let her run!” Maddox exploded, his wolf’s voice nearly taking over, eyes flashing amber.

Kyren’s hand landed on his shoulder, grounding him.

“Maddox,” he said gently, “Breathe.”

Jaxon was silent, jaw clenched, hands fisting at his sides.

Their mother looked shocked, her eyes widened slightly... but then the expression vanished as soon as it came. She looked unfazed.

Indifferent.

Of course she was.

She turned away without a word.

Their jaw tightened. They didn’t care if she approved.

Their father?

He’d be worse.

But right now?

Nothing else mattered.

Only her.

And the fact that she had run off with horror in her eyes.