Rhea

I didn’t even realize how much of the day had bled away until I glanced at the time glowing on my phone. My stomach sank. Shit. I hadn’t missed the whole day, but I had blown off nearly all my afternoon classes—something the vice principal would definitely not let slide.

Lila had already suggested I use her brothers’ names to get out of it, but I’d shot her down. No way in hell was I giving the quads more leverage over me than they already had. The last thing I needed was for them to think I was leaning on their power, like some needy, coddled Luna. And let’s be honest—the vice principal would probably laugh in my face anyway.

I could already imagine the conversation.

“Oh, you’re mated to the Alphas? Sure. And I’m the fucking Moon Goddess.”

The thought made me scowl as I dragged myself toward the student center, the stone arches of Silver Ridge looming high above, etched with faintly glowing ward-runes that pulsed in rhythm with the academy’s heart.

Inside, Bree, Nora, Ethan, and Theo were waiting. Their curiosity was a living thing—pressing, unspoken, thick enough to choke on. Bree’s calm brown eyes followed me like she were dissecting every twitch of my expression. Nora chewed her lip, torn between asking and keeping quiet. Ethan’s arms were crossed, his stare unreadable, though I felt the weight of it all the same. And Theo—Theo didn’t even bother hiding it. His wolf glared out through his eyes, sharp and suspicious, like he was waiting for me to confess something.

That’s when the campus speakers crackled to life. The sound alone made my skin prickle.

“All students are to report to the auditorium immediately for a special announcement by the Alphas. Attendance is mandatory.”

The words hit like a blade to the gut.

I froze mid-step, stomach plummeting so fast it left me dizzy.

Oh. Fuck. This was it.

I had all but begged the quads to wait before making anything public, asked them not to make me their spectacle, not to paint a target on me. But clearly, my opinion didn’t mean a damn thing. My pulse thundered in my ears, my skin going cold even as heat flushed up the back of my neck.

And honestly? The announcement felt pointless. Their little show of dominance that morning had been confirmation enough. Every wolf in this place already knew. Why the grand performance now? To rub salt in the wound? To prove that not only did they own me—they owned the narrative too?

Bree’s brows pinched, her voice edged with suspicion. “What’s that about?”

I forced a shrug, tightening my grip on my bag like it might anchor me. “No idea.”

Bree’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. But Nora looped her arm through mine before she could press, her touch warm and steady, like she was trying to shield me from something.

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” she said softly.

Yeah. Find out exactly how thoroughly my life was about to implode.

Jaxon’s POV

I watched her from the stage. Every subtle twitch, every flicker of anxiety in her eyes—I saw it all. Felt it. The way her pulse stuttered in her throat, the way her hands fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve as she slipped into the auditorium. Rhea looked like she’d bolt if given half the chance, and I almost wanted her to try.

Almost.

Because she wasn’t getting away. Not from me. Not from us.

She knew what was coming. She had to. Her panic was sharp enough I could taste it from across the room, a live wire crackling under her skin. And still, she walked.

Should’ve known there was no stopping this.

She was ours. And it was time everyone else fucking knew it.

Seth nudged me, his grin tilted sharp even though his voice stayed low. “She looks like she’s gonna bolt.”

Rory lounged against the edge of the stage like he didn’t have a care in the world, but I saw the way his storm-grey eyes tracked her every move. Calculating. Always calculating. “Let her try,” he murmured, a smirk curling. “She won’t get far.”

Callum exhaled, slow and deliberate. To anyone else, he looked carved from stone—immovable. But I knew the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders squared when his wolf was pressing too close to the surface. His gaze never wavered from her. “She’s scared,” he muttered under his breath.

Scared or not, this was happening.

The auditorium filled quick, the buzz of whispers swelling until it sounded like a hive. Students filed in, their voices hushed but greedy. Every pack, every heir, every pretender—all of them craning for a glimpse. The scent of them pressed together was heavy: musk, perfume, pine, and the faint metallic tang of the wards in the walls, always present, always pulsing.

Those wards weren’t just decoration. Silver runes had been carved into the vaulted arches centuries ago, their glow faint but steady, thrumming like a heartbeat. They bound temper, filtered lies, kept dominance from spilling into violence. The air shimmered faintly, a cage made of truth and restraint. Every wolf in this room could posture, growl, sneer—but the wards would keep them in line.

She-wolves in the front rows preened, flipping hair, adjusting skirts, tugging their shirts lower as though we’d glance at them one last time. Pathetic. They should’ve realized their chances ended the second my sunshine stepped foot on campus.

Too fucking bad.

Theo walked her down the aisle, his hand hovering too close to her back, like he thought he was her shield. My wolf bristled instantly. No one shielded her but us. The way he looked at her—like she belonged in his orbit—had me seeing red.

Rhea’s silver hair caught the glow of the chandeliers overhead, strands glittering like threads spun by the Goddess herself. She was tense, chin lifted out of sheer defiance, but I saw the cracks. The pulse hammering at her throat. The tremor in her fingers when she adjusted her bag. She thought she was hiding it. She wasn’t. Not from me.

Rory leaned forward slightly, his grin sharpening as she drew closer. “She’s fire,” he muttered, mostly to himself, though we all heard it.

Seth chuckled low, shaking his head. “More like a lit fuse. Can’t wait to see how long she burns before she blows.”

I didn’t laugh. My eyes stayed locked on her, drinking in every fucking detail, every breath, every twitch. I’d been patient. Too patient. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it.

She reached the front, and Callum moved first, stepping down off the stage with that commanding calm that made entire rooms go still. He didn’t rush. He didn’t posture. He didn’t need to. His presence did the work for him. When he took her hand, it wasn’t just a touch—it was a claim, the kind no one in this room could mistake.

Her body tensed, a shiver rippling through her as he dipped his face into the curve of her neck and breathed her in. His restraint was thin, and I could feel the storm of it like static in the air.

My wolf clawed inside me, demanding the same. More.

Rory pushed off the stage next, sliding in on her other side, arms wrapping around her waist with an ease that made my teeth grind. “Princess,” he murmured against her ear, his voice velvet and steel, “are you ready to make history?”

She muttered something under her breath—defiance, sharp and sweet. That stubborn fire made my lips twitch into a smirk.

Seth’s chuckle rumbled low behind me, and I knew he was enjoying this too much. The chaos. The spectacle. He thrived on it.

But me? I wanted the world to burn for even thinking she wasn’t ours.

I stepped forward slowly and deliberate. Her gaze snapped to me the second I moved, like she couldn’t help it. Good. Let her look. Let her feel it. My fingers brushed a strand of her hair back from her face, lingering just long enough for my knuckles to graze her cheek.

“You’re ours, sunshine,” I murmured, my voice pitched so only she could hear. Possessive. Certain. “It’s time everyone else knows it too.”

The auditorium erupted the second her name hit the air. Whispers, gasps, jealous growls muffled by the wards — all of it crashing like a wave. I didn’t look at them. I didn’t care. My eyes stayed on her.

On the girl fate had handed us.

On the only one who mattered.

And whether she wanted it or not, she belonged to us now.

Rhea’s POV

I felt every stare as I was led down the aisle toward the front.

The whole damn auditorium leaned in like hounds scenting blood. I kept my chin up, but my pulse thudded so hard in my throat I was sure half the room could hear it. Theo walked beside me, his hand hovering just enough to remind me he wasn’t about to let me veer left or right. Babysitting disguised as escort. Great.

Lila, Bree and Nora were tucked back a few rows, watching like hawks. I could practically feel their questions clawing at my spine. Questions they hadn’t asked all afternoon but hadn’t dropped either. Their curiosity was a weight pressing between my shoulder blades.

The wards woven into the vaulted arches above hummed faintly, silver runes glowing in steady rhythm like the auditorium itself had a heartbeat. They weren’t just pretty decoration—everyone knew those wards tasted dominance. They fed on raw emotions, taming them before they could spark into violence. Which meant the quads’ little morning stunt? Yeah, every wolf in this room had already felt it.

So what was the point of this announcement? Their show of dominance earlier was enough to confirm everything. This was just theatre.

And I was the unwilling star.

Callum, Rory, Seth, and Jaxon stood waiting near the stage, dominance coiled tight in the surrounding air. They didn’t need to move. Didn’t need to say a word. Their presence alone shifted the atmosphere, pressing down on the room until wolves straightened instinctively, some even bowing their heads.

Callum looked carved from stone, his storm-grey eyes scanning the auditorium like he was running battlefield calculations. His control was suffocating, and yet somehow steadying—like a wall that wouldn’t crumble even if the world burned.

Rory leaned against the stage, casual as hell, smirk tugging at his mouth like he wasn’t bothered. But I knew better. His eyes were too sharp, cataloguing every flicker of expression, every whispered reaction. The strategist, smiling while he mapped how the entire room might try to use me against them.

Seth… he was sprawled half sideways, lounging like he couldn’t be bothered with this circus. But his fingers drummed against his thigh, restless and sharp, betraying just how much he wanted to leap into the chaos. Reckless bastard.

And Jaxon. Gods. His gaze locked on me the second I stepped into view, storm-grey eyes gone darker than I’d ever seen them. Possessive. Unapologetic. Like I’d already been carved into his chest and sealed there with blood. My stomach flipped so hard it hurt, and every bone in my body screamed at me to turn and run.

But I didn’t. Couldn’t.

Callum moved first, stepping forward off the stage. The weight of the room tilted with him, the wards glowing faintly in recognition. He didn’t say a word. Just wrapped a hand around my wrist, tugged me flush against him, and dipped his face into the crook of my neck.

A slow, deep inhale.

I froze, my body tensing like I’d been struck. His breath ghosted over my skin, and I shuddered despite myself.

Then Rory was there, sliding in from the other side, his arm coiling around my waist like it belonged there. His warmth sank into my bones, and for a split second—just one—I almost melted into him.

No. I couldn’t melt for them. Not when I still had no clue if they’d break me in half or cage me whole.

“Princess,” Rory murmured, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. His voice was soft enough no one else heard, but sharp enough to cut me to the bone. “Ready to make history?”

“I’d rather skip to the part where Lycandra swallows me whole,” I muttered back, deadpan.

Seth’s low snort of laughter reached me, amused and reckless. “Bold choice,” he drawled. “I’d pay to watch.”

Before I could retort, Jaxon closed the distance. Slow. Deliberate. Dangerous. He didn’t touch me at first, just let his presence crowd the air until my lungs forgot how to work. Then his fingers brushed a strand of silver hair from my face, knuckles grazing my cheek.

“You’re ours, sunshine,” he murmured, velvet and threat braided together. His eyes gleamed with certainty, the kind that dared me to fight him. “It’s time everyone else knows it.”

The auditorium erupted—gasps, whispers, jealous growls. The wards flared faint silver, straining to muffle the noise, but nothing could smother the tension rippling through the room. Wolves twisted in their seats, some whispering too loudly, some smirking, some glaring like they wanted me torn apart for stepping into their fantasy.

I stood frozen in the center of it all, caged by four Alphas, the wards trembling with their combined dominance.

Callum’s POV

The microphone hummed faintly, feeding off the wards woven into the stone walls. I stood tall in the center of the stage, shoulders squared, waiting for silence.

It didn’t take long.

The auditorium settled in waves. Wolves stiffened, fae-blooded students went still, dragon-shifters leaned forward, all of them sensing the inevitability pressing down. The silver runes etched along the vaulted arches pulsed faintly, mirroring the tension in the air. Even the enchanted chandeliers dimmed as if the room itself held its breath.

“Ridge Academy,” I began, my voice carrying effortlessly, not because I shouted but because dominance had its own volume. “We’ve gathered you here today to share something that affects not just us, but all of you.”

A ripple of whispers rolled through the crowd. Every eye was fixed on us.

Rory stepped forward smoothly, his smirk softer now, his tone deceptively casual. “For five years, we’ve waited for the one person who was made for us. Our mate. Our Luna.” He leaned back on his heels like this wasn’t shaking the foundation of the academy itself, but his eyes gleamed sharp, cataloguing every reaction.

Seth followed, his posture loose, his grin gone. He leaned toward the mic, voice pitched low and steady, carrying a weight the pack weren’t used to hearing from him. “And now, we’ve finally found her.” No laughter. No mocking bite. Just reverence. For once, the chaos stilled, and the entire room felt it.

The whispers sharpened into crackling noise, like a storm gathering. Before the chatter could drown us, Jax’s voice cut through, dark and merciless.

“Meet Rhea Morgan. Our mate. Your future, Luna.”

The auditorium erupted.

Gasps. Shock. A few squeals of excitement. But mostly jealousy. Fury. The sound was deafening, wolves snapping their heads toward her like she’d just sprouted wings. The wards flared bright along the walls, straining under the weight of so many emotions at once. The magic tasted sharp, volatile, threatening to spill into a fight if not for the runes forcing restraint.

Jax smirked at the chaos, sharp and predatory, like he thrived on it. He probably did.

I extended my hand into the air, palm steady, waiting.

She hesitated. I saw it in the tremor of her shoulders, the way her throat bobbed, the flicker of panic in her silver eyes. She wanted to bolt. Her instinct screamed, run.

But slowly—deliberately—Rhea placed her hand in mine.

I pulled her onto the stage, my grip unyielding but careful, anchoring her beside me. Jaxon shifted immediately to her left, his presence a dark wall pressing close. Rory slid in with that calculated charm, smile sharp but eyes watchful, while Seth flanked her other side, a restless grin twitching at his mouth though his posture was protective.

Together, we boxed her in. A united front. The four of us and her, standing before the entire academy.

“Luna Rhea will be treated with the same respect you show us,” I said, my voice leaving no room for interpretation. The wards in the walls thrummed, silver sigils brightening as if sealing my words of law. “Any hostility or disrespect toward her will not be tolerated.”

“Yes, Alpha!” the crowd chorused back, the sound echoing like a chant—but the resentment bled through. I caught narrowed eyes, clenched jaws, she-wolves glaring like daggers could undo destiny.

Beside me, Rhea’s shoulders tightened, her breath quick and shallow. She was drowning under the weight of their stares, under the life we had just forced into the light. My hand tightened around hers, silent assurance she couldn’t push away.

Jax leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear, his voice pitched so only she and I could hear.

“You’re ours now, sunshine. And now everyone knows it. Get used to it.”

Her eyes flared, panic and defiance both flashing there. But she didn’t pull away. She stood. That mattered.

And as the auditorium roared around us, I knew two things for certain:

The academy would never be the same after today.

And neither would she.

Rhea’s POV

I shoved the last of my clothes into the suitcase, my hands trembling as I yanked the zipper shut. The rhythmic zzzip echoed through the room, sharp and final, like the closing of a cell door.

This was it.

I wasn’t just leaving my dorm—I was leaving my last shred of control behind. The space that had been mine, with its mismatched quilt from mom, the faint lavender sachet Bree had tucked under my pillow, even the enchanted lamp that flickered when I hummed. All of it suddenly felt borrowed, fragile, already being erased.

I hadn’t even told my parents yet. Maybe they knew, maybe they didn’t—but figuring out how to explain this mess? Yeah, that went straight into the “future Rhea” folder. Present Rhea had enough shit to survive.

My chest tightened, panic threading through my veins like wildfire. I sank onto the edge of the bed, gripping the fabric of my leggings so hard my knuckles ached. The wards in the walls hummed faintly—protective runes carved into the beams centuries ago, glowing silver in rhythm with my erratic pulse. Even the magic seemed to sense my storm.

I thought back to the moment on stage—standing under blinding chandeliers, Callum’s hand wrapped around mine, his grip solid as chains. Jaxon whispering against my skin like a damn promise I wasn’t ready to accept. The crowd’s eyes had burned into me, some with awe, others with jealousy, and more than a handful with outright hatred.

This wasn’t a fairy tale where a mate bond wrapped everything in roses. This was a cage—a beautiful, gilded, suffocating cage. And the worst part? Some traitorous part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to break free.

A knock at the door jolted me.

Jaxon stepped inside first, his smirk lazy, his eyes too sharp to miss a damn thing. He moved like a predator—unhurried, deliberate—each step a warning my body understood before my mind caught up.

Danger. Danger. Danger.

“You look like you’re about to run,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe like this was his room, not mine. His voice was laced with amusement, velvet wrapped around steel. “Should I chase you, sunshine?”

I swallowed hard, ignoring the traitorous twist in my stomach. Not fear. Something far more dangerous. The thought of him chasing me, pinning me, claiming me until the wards themselves flared—

Fuck.

My thighs clenched, heat licking up my spine.

I forced a glare, my voice clipped. “I’m not running.”

His smirk deepened, stormy eyes devouring me as he prowled a step closer.

“Good girl.”

Double fuck.

My underwear was definitely damp.

Jaxon’s scent—dark spice, smoke, and something inherently male—wrapped around me, sinking into my skin. He brushed his fingers against my wrist, barely a touch, but the sparks lit my veins like firecrackers.

“Are you going to be a good girl for us, Rhea?” His tone dipped low, silk and sin. A promise. A threat. “Or are you going to fight?”

I hated how my body answered him. How my nipples tightened beneath my shirt, how my breath caught at the heat in his gaze.

I hated that I wanted to test him.

“I’m not yours to be good for,” I bit out, each word a blade meant to keep distance.

Jaxon chuckled, low and wicked, like I had just said something cute.

“Oh, sunshine,” he crooned, dragging his fingers down my arm. Sparks followed, traitorous, unavoidable. “You already are.”

The door creaked again.

Callum filled the frame. His presence didn’t just shift the room—it consumed it. If Jaxon was flame, wild and burning, Callum was the fire itself—controlled, relentless, impossible to snuff out. His eyes swept the space, landing on me, dissecting me, reading every flicker of my pulse.

“Pack your things,” he ordered, his voice calm, absolute. “We leave in five minutes.”

I didn’t move.

Not because I didn’t want to, but because his gaze locked me in place. He saw too much. The way Jaxon had gotten under my skin. The way my chest rose too quickly, the way my thighs pressed just a little too tight. My whole body betraying me.

What in the actual fuck was happening to me? I was supposed to hate them. I did hate them—literally hours ago. Now my body was betraying me like it hadn’t gotten the memo.

“You’re flustered,” Callum murmured, stepping into my space with the patience of a general who already owned the battlefield. “Why?”

His voice was soft. Too soft. Like he already knew the answer.

I lifted my chin, defiance masking the heat curling low in my belly. “I’m annoyed. That’s all.”

Jaxon snickered behind him.

Callum didn’t smile. He just reached forward, sliding his fingers into my hair, grip firm but careful. He tilted my head up, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Lie to yourself all you want, little Luna,” he murmured, his voice steady as bedrock. “But don’t lie to us.”

My pulse skyrocketed.

I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve broken free.

But I didn’t. Couldn’t.

His thumb brushed my bottom lip, slow, deliberate, leaving my breath uneven and my body aching.

“Good girl,” he said, softer this time. Almost reverent. Like the words themselves belonged to him.

My stomach twisted painfully, need and defiance warring inside me.

“Let’s go, Luna,” he finished, releasing me with a final stroke of his fingertips.

I exhaled shakily, stumbling back before I did something stupid—like lean into his touch.

Jaxon’s chuckle followed me, dark and knowing. “You’re going to be fun.”

He trailed after Callum as they exited, leaving the room thick with their dominance. The wards along the walls pulsed faintly silver, reacting to the storm they left in their wake.

I grabbed my suitcase, hands trembling. Before I could lift it, Jaxon’s hand beat me to it, casual and certain, like it had always been his to carry.

I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for them.

Because the worst part wasn’t how they unraveled me with every touch, every growled promise.

The worst part was that I knew they weren’t lying. I felt their sincerity in every possessive glance, in the way the wards hummed louder when they claimed me, in the fire curling between us that no denial could extinguish.

They wouldn’t leave.

They wouldn’t betray me.

And that terrified me more than anything—because if I let myself believe them, if I let myself fall…

There would be no coming back.

I had barely survived once.

I wouldn’t survive them.

Not if they ever decided to let me go.

And the sickest part of all?

Somewhere deep inside, I already knew… they never would.