Four

Snow

The last thing I ever wanted was a filthy, perverted soldier for a mate.

Or worse—one of the triplets.

So, I hid. I bathed in perfume, drowned myself in it, but the scent still broke through—wild, new, impossible to contain.

"You couldn't hold it off this year, could you?" she asked softly, concern threading through her voice. "I can smell your wolf. It's strong."

Fuck.

If she could smell it, even through this storm of roasted meat and spiced bread... then everyone else could too.

Every single asshole in this room.

It was fucked up on so many levels. If any of the triplets—Michael, Lucas, or Alex—turned out to be my mate, they wouldn't just reject me. They'd burn me alive.

"I couldn't," I muttered, voice tight. "She wanted out."

"Nothing to regret, child." She brushed her thumb over my cheek. "This day was bound to come."

"Yeah..." I breathed, turning back to the table, arranging plates I couldn't even see properly anymore.

Moments later, orders came to send the food and trolleys out. Music began to hum through the air, faint but festive—the start of whatever celebration this was supposed to be.

Perfect. The more attention on the guests, the easier for me to slip away unnoticed.

"Hey, frostbite," a nasal voice cut through my thoughts.

God. Not her.

Penelope strutted toward me, red heels clicking, that smug smile plastered across her face. Her bodycon dress clung like a second skin, her lipstick red enough to bleed. Penelope had a thing for every man in the pack—and by "thing," I meant obsession.

"Miss me?" she purred, twirling a strand of my hair between her fingers. "Didn't even bother hiding this freak color, huh?"

She liked to pretend she hated my hair.

Truth? She was jealous.

I was the only one born with white hair—the mark of prophecy, they said.

And her? Just another blonde with too much lipstick and not enough dignity.

"Not even a little, Penelope," I smiled, cold. "But I'm sure the soldiers did."

Her smile cracked. "What the fuck did you—"

"If you'll excuse me, I've got work to finish before the party starts."

Her anger flared instantly. Typical.

Penelope and her sister, Danica—two snakes fighting for the same prey. Both desperate to claim one of the triplets, and both taking turns making my life miserable.

"You're running your mouth a lot lately," she hissed, taking a step closer, her hand balling into a fist. "You need a lesson—"

She swung.

Instinct took over. My hand shot up, catching her wrist midair—tightening until I heard it.

Crack.

"Ouch!" she gasped, eyes wide. Poor thing didn't even have time to process the pain.

"Don't you ever try to hit me again, you pathetic bitch," I growled. My wolf surged forward, my eyes glowing, voice thick with something that wasn't entirely human. "I'll rip that pitiful head off your shoulders without a second thought."

"You—" she stammered, panic dawning. "You shifted?!"

"What the hell is going on here?"

Danica's voice sliced through the tension. She stopped in the doorway, eyes darting from her sister's reddened wrist to me.

"Penelope, what the fuck are you doing here?" she demanded. Always worried her slut of a sister might steal the triplets' attention.

Penelope smirked. "Surprised, bitch? I figured out why you sent me on that sudden 'vacation.' You were planning something. So I came back."

Danica's face paled.

Penelope laughed. "You were going to drug the alphas tonight, weren't you? Get one of them in your bed and pregnant. Isn't that the plan?"

My stomach twisted.

She was going to drug them?

Danica's eyes snapped to me, realization flashing across her face—she knew I'd heard. "What the fuck are you talking about?" she stammered. "That's not— I never planned—"

"Are you serious?" I cut her off, disbelief tightening my voice. "You were really going to stoop that fucking low for—"

"Just shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch!" Danica snapped, voice trembling with fury. "She's bluffing. I love the Alphas—I would never do something like that!"

"I found the drug, Danica." Penelope's smile was sharp and cruel. "Don't lie."

I didn't have time for this shit.

Whether the triplets hated me or not—I needed to tell them.

This wasn't right.

"I have to warn them." I turned toward the door, but Danica's hand shot out, nails sinking into my wrist.

"Don't you dare!" she hissed. "I'll fucking kill you if you do, you bitch!"

Pain flared where her claws dug in, but I didn't care.

"Let. Me. Go," I said, my voice low and shaking—not with fear, but rage.

"No," she spat, trying to drag me backward. "You're going to the cells. Maybe that'll teach you to keep your nose out of my fucking business—"

That was it.

I yanked her toward me and slapped her hard across the face. The sound cracked through the air. She stumbled to the floor, clutching her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Stay the fuck away from me," I warned, breath ragged.

I barely made it two steps before another hand grabbed my arm. Penelope.

Her grip was firm, her expression twisted into something venomous.

"Where do you think you're going?" she hissed. "You think you can tell the Alphas and become their favorite? Ain't no way I'm letting you do that."

Were both these sisters completely out of their goddamn minds?

"Penelope, I don't want to break your other hand, so—"

Before I could finish, she lunged. I dodged, but her fingers caught my scarf. It slid off, falling soundlessly to the floor.

And in that moment, everything stopped.

My hair spilled free—white as winter, cascading down my shoulders. The scent hit the air instantly, rich and wild. The entire hall went still.

Fuck.

Every head turned toward me.

Eyes wide. Noses flaring.

My scent wasn't hidden anymore.

If my mate was here—

And then it hit me.

A wave of warmth. Electricity. The air itself shifted, charged and suffocating.

My gaze snapped forward—and locked with his.

Lucas.

The world stilled around us, every sound fading into nothing but the pounding in my chest.

Tingles raced down my skin, burning through every nerve as his scent wrapped around me like smoke. Even from across the hall, I could feel him—his power, his heat, his pull.

And then, that word.

Soft, primal.

Echoing inside my head like a curse.

"Mate."

Fuck. No.