Rhea

The SUV hummed along the dark Lycandran road, but the silence inside wasn’t peace. It was pressure. Too many Alphas in one vehicle, their dominance humming so thick the wards carved into the metal frame glowed faintly, forcing the magic to hold steady.

They’d been talking about rogues for half the ride. Not strategy, not politics. No—blood. Callum had described their “solution” in his low, even voice, like he was giving a lecture instead of recounting ripping out a rogue leader’s throat with his bare teeth.

My stomach lurched. I shifted against the leather seat, tugging the blanket tighter around me like it would block the image out. Spoiler: it didn’t.

And of course, Jaxon noticed. He always fucking noticed.

“Scared, sunshine?” His voice was velvet over gravel, lazy but edged, like he already knew the answer. He slouched in his seat, broad frame taking up more space than should’ve been possible, jet-black hair sleeked back with that one stubborn strand my hands twitched to touch. Dangerous didn’t even cover him—he looked like the type of predator who enjoyed being caught mid-hunt.

I folded my arms tight across my chest, schooling my voice to flat indifference. “Let me guess—you’re about to say I shouldn’t be?”

From the passenger seat, Seth twisted around, grinning like the cocky bastard he was. Mischief practically radiated off him, even when he wasn’t trying.

“Oh, you should be,” he said, voice dipped in amusement. His grin sharpened. “Just not of us.”

I arched a brow, deadpan. “That’s comforting.”

Seth’s laugh burst out, easy and bright, like he loved the way I pushed back. He settled back into his seat, but his fingers drummed against the dashboard, restless energy pouring out of him.

Rory’s chuckle came next, softer but edged. He sprawled sideways in his seat, long legs stretched out like he owned the whole SUV. His hair tied back in a loose knot at the nape of his neck—caught faint streaks of moonlight through the tinted glass. His grin was lazy, but his gaze wasn’t. Sharp. Calculating. Always.

“Princess,” he drawled, tilting his head, “we’re not that bad… unless someone gives us a reason to be.”

I clenched my jaw and turned toward the window. Pines blurred past, their branches heavy with wards that glowed faintly silver. They thrummed against my skin like they could sense the tension in the car.

Before I could fire back, Callum’s voice cut through the air, firm and controlled. “Enough. Change the subject.”

And just like that, silence fell.

Even Jaxon leaned back, though he gave a dramatic sigh like it bored him to listen to orders. He dragged a hand through his hair, moving that stubborn strand of hair that my hand was still itching to touch, his face, and shot me a smirk that said he’d circle back to my discomfort later.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s talk about something important.”

That should’ve been my warning.

“Friday,” Callum said from behind the wheel, his voice calm but steady. His hair was neatly cut, short on the sides, clean at the temples, the kind of style that screamed discipline. He didn’t even glance away from the road when his storm-grey eyes found me in the rearview mirror. “Theo and Lila’s dinner. What are you planning to wear?”

I blinked. “Wear?”

My heart sank. No. No way.

“You know,” Rory added smoothly, grin spreading. “The event where we introduce you to the pack as our mate.”

I wanted to throttle him. He was doing this to get under my skin—I could see it in the way his shoulders shook with barely contained laughter.

I shrugged, aiming for careless. “I don’t know. Something simple.”

“Simple isn’t your style anymore,” Jaxon cut in, his voice low, with a hint of darkness curling at the edges. “Not when you’re ours.”

The possessiveness in his tone shot heat down my spine, unwanted and treacherous.

I snapped my gaze back to the window, biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted iron. Outside, the wards along the forest edge pulsed brighter as we neared Ridge Storm Pack house territory, reacting to the Alphas’ dominance packed into this single vehicle. Like the magic itself was bracing for impact.

And I couldn’t stop thinking:

What was even the point of their big announcement? Everyone already knew. The entire fucking academy had seen their display this morning—the way they’d pinned me in with their presence, whispered “mine” until the walls themselves had listened. That was confirmation enough.

This wasn’t about clarity.

This was about control.

A gilded cage lined with runes and dominance.

And I was already locked inside.

Jaxon’s POV

“She could wear a garbage bag and all eyes would still be on her. She’d outshine everyone else,” Rory said, his smirk sliding into the silence like he’d been waiting for it. He lounged sideways in his seat, hair tied back in that loose knot he favored, one lock falling into his face on purpose. Always calculated. Always smug.

Seth barked a laugh, leaning halfway over the seat like this was the best entertainment he’d had all day. Typical.

But me? I didn’t fucking laugh.

Because the second Rory let those words out, Blaze snapped to the surface. My wolf surged hot and vicious, claws raking inside my skull, snarling like Rory had just laid hands on what was ours. My vision flickered—human one second, wolf-black the next. My fingers flexed against my thigh, itching to grab her, to pull her against me, to make sure there wasn’t a single fucking doubt in her mind about who she belonged to.

Mine. Blaze snarled.

Ours, I corrected, but Blaze wasn’t in a sharing mood. Not tonight.

“Careful, Rory,” I growled, voice low and rough, every word edged with the heat I barely leashed. My chest tightened, heat curling through me, sharp and ugly. “You’re still my brother, but you don’t get to say shit like that.”

Rory arched one dark brow, unbothered, his grin cutting wider. “Relax, Blaze,” he drawled, deliberately rolling my wolf’s name off his tongue like a taunt. “It’s called being supportive.”

He wanted me to snap. He always did. Poking the beast was Rory’s favorite pastime.

Not this time.

Instead, I turned to my sunshine—our mate.

She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs tight, tugging her sweater lower like she thought she could hide from me. Cute. Useless. Because I saw it. Scented it.

That little flicker of arousal curled into the air, sweet and sharp, like a fucking invitation. Blaze prowled to the surface, growling his approval, preening.

“You like that, sunshine?” My voice was low, rough, hunger twisting every word. I leaned closer, close enough that my breath brushed her cheek. “You like being told by your alphas how gorgeous we find you?

Her breath hitched. Her fingers dug into the hem of her sweater as if it could anchor her. Her pulse stuttered under that delicate skin, betraying her even as she fought to keep her chin high.

Fuck, she was cute when she thought she could win.

I dragged my hand down slowly, letting my knuckles brush the soft curve of her thigh. Not enough to claim. Just enough to tease. To make her squirm.

“You’d rather hear it from me, wouldn’t you?” I murmured, voice dropping lower, darker. My lips brushed the shell of her ear, and she shivered so hard I felt it through the leather seat. “Need me to tell you how fucking perfect you’d look in anything…” My fingers pressed just a little firmer. “…or in nothing at all?”

Her thighs snapped tighter together.

Blaze purred. Fucking purred.

Her lips parted, breath uneven, cheeks flushed crimson. Gods, I wanted to ruin that mouth, drag her under until she stopped pretending she didn’t feel it too.

But Seth ruined it. The asshole always ruined it.

He laughed loud, head tossed back, like he’d been waiting for this. “Jax, man, I think you broke her.”

I pulled back just enough to see her face. Her lips trembling, cheeks pink, eyes wide and dark—not with fear, but with something she didn’t dare name.

Good.

Let her wrestle with it. Let her pretend she didn’t like it.

Because sooner or later, she’d learn.

She needed to get used to this.

To us.

To me.

Seth’s POV

The second we pulled up to the Packhouse, my eyes were on her.

She thought she was hiding it—sitting stiff in her seat, hands folded prim and proper in her lap like she wasn’t strangling her blanket with white-knuckled force. Neutral face. Shoulders squared. That little chin tipped up as if she were unbothered.

Please.

I saw everything.

The way her breath caught the instant the fortress came into view, her silver hair catching a shaft of fading sunlight through the window. The way her lashes fluttered, trying and failing to mask how her gaze darted up, tracing every jagged stone arch, every spire, every wrought-iron balcony that jutted out like claws.

Yeah. She liked it. Even if she’d bite her own tongue off before admitting it.

She’d been here before, technically—best friend to Lila, always orbiting our family—but she’d never seen it like this. Not the way you do when you’re standing on the edge of belonging. Or being swallowed whole.

“This is home now, princess,” Rory murmured, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes as he leaned casually against the car, like this was just another night. His voice was soft, but his smirk wasn’t.

She repeated the word under her breath. Home. Testing it. Rolling it around like it didn’t quite fit.

Not convinced. Not yet.

Didn’t matter. She would be.

I stretched my arms above my head, grinning slow and easy, my hair falling into my face before I shoved it back with one hand. “Go on. Admit it,” I teased. “You’re impressed.”

Her head whipped toward me, eyes sparking, glare sharp enough to cut glass. But then—betrayal. Her gaze flicked back to the doors.

The massive double doors towered over all of us, carved from dark mahogany, runes etched so deep they glowed faint silver under the moonlight. Pack sigils layered across them like a history book written in magic. Stone wolves crouched on either side, eyes glowing faintly, tracking movement like they’d pounce if she dared step wrong.

“Looks like a villain’s lair,” she muttered.

Rory snorted, tipping his head back. “And what does that make you, then?”

She didn’t answer. Just swept past us, silver hair flicking over her shoulder like a blade. A brush-off.

Fuck. She was fun.

I followed, hands in my pockets, humming under my breath like this was all a game I’d already won.

The Packhouse swallowed us whole.

Iron-wrought banisters spiralled up the grand staircase, their railings twisting into wolf heads mid-snarl. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows etched with moon sigils and threads of fae magic, casting long, predatory shadows across the ancient oak tables and tapestries stitched with our bloodline’s victories. The hearth in the center roared, flames licking high as if bowing to us.

Rhea lingered, lips parting just slightly—the smallest tell that she was impressed. But then she felt my eyes on her. She snapped that mouth shut, pressed her lips into a thin, stubborn line, shoulders stiffening.

Cute.

“Alright,” she muttered, her voice tight. “Let’s get this over with.”

I chuckled low, bumping her shoulder with mine as I brushed past, my grin sharp enough to make her glare. “Welcome home, snowflake.”

She didn’t answer.

Not with words.

But her shoulders locked, her fingers flexed at her sides, and the air around her shifted sharp. She felt it. My words. Our claim.

Even if she wanted to deny it.

Rory’s POV

I knew what was coming the second we crossed the threshold into our private wing. She wasn’t going to let this room situation slide.

And sure enough—

“Can I have a room near Lila?”

The words cut through the space, sharp enough to freeze the air.

Silence. Heavy, weighted.

The wards carved into the stone walls hummed faintly, glowing silver like they were tuning themselves to the sudden spike in tension.

Jax’s jaw ticked, his hair falling forward before he shoved it back, grey eyes flat and unreadable. Seth’s smirk faded—rare, which meant trouble. Callum didn’t so much as blink, but his expression darkened, the kind of subtle shift that could clear a battlefield.

I sighed. Here we go.

“No,” Callum said, voice flat, tone final. Not a suggestion. A decree.

Her arms crossed instantly, silver hair spilling over her shoulder, her glare sharp enough to cut. “Why not?”

“Because you’re ours,” Jax said, stepping forward, close enough that the wards along the floor brightened with his dominance. His voice was low, heavy, absolute. “You belong here. In our quarters.”

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t flinch. Brave. Or stupid. “I’d feel more comfortable near her. I don’t know anyone here, and it’s not like you’ll always be around—”

Jaxon’s laugh cut her off.

Dark. Amused. Not the good kind.

“You think we’d leave you alone, sunshine?” His smirk curved wicked, hair falling into his face as his eyes locked on hers. “That’s cute.”

She scowled, but I caught it—the twitch of her fingers, the uneven rise and fall of her chest. Nervous. Shaken.

Good.

“You’re staying here,” Callum said firmly, tone smooth as polished steel. No room for argument.

She opened her mouth anyway. I saw it coming—the stubborn tilt of her chin, the defiance burning bright.

And because I was feeling generous, I cut in before she pushed herself into dangerous territory.

“How about this?” I flashed her my most charming smile, letting my hair fall forward before brushing it back. “Lila and Theo can move into the room next to yours until you’ve… settled in.”

Her shoulders relaxed almost instantly, her lips parting just slightly, hope flickering across her face.

She thought she’d won something.

Cute.

Theo would hate the idea. Lila would love it. But either way, she’d still be in our wing, bound tight by our rules.

Seth tilted his head, hair falling into his eyes, watching her like he was plotting something wicked. “On one condition.”

She groaned, exasperated. “What now?”

“You stop calling us ‘Alpha,’” Callum said, voice calm, smooth, but edged with something lethal. “Even if it annoys us.”

Her lips parted, brows pulling tight. She knew exactly what he meant.

“You heard him,” Jax murmured, stepping closer until the silver runes at his feet flared. He crowded her, his voice brushing against her skin like a threat and a promise. “Call us by our names.”

She hesitated, throat working, defiance sparking in her eyes. She fought it. Resisted.

But in the end, she gave in.

“Fine,” she muttered, biting the word like it burned.

“Fine… who?” Jax pressed, his grin wolfish, predatory.

Her throat bobbed. Her fingers clenched at her sides.

I bit back a grin.

“Callum. Jaxon. Rory. Seth,” she forced out, each name a crack in her armour.

Jaxon’s smile curved slow, pure sin. His hair slipped forward again as he dipped his head, voice velvet-dark.

“Good girl.”

Her knees wobbled.

Yeah.

We were inside her head now.

Rhea’s POV

My jaw nearly hit the floor the second I stepped into the room they’d assigned me.

The suite wasn’t a room—it was a statement. High vaulted ceilings arched overhead, carved beams etched with faintly glowing lunar sigils that thrummed like a heartbeat when I crossed the threshold. Dark wood paneling lined the walls, gleaming with polish, and an entire wall of windows overlooked the Ridge Storm territory sprawling below—forests rolling into silver horizons, the wards across the borders flickering like distant lightning.

The bed was ridiculous. A massive four-poster draped in black silk sheets and trimmed with moonstone embroidery, large enough to fit all four of them without brushing shoulders. The walk-in closet? Bigger than my entire dorm room at Silver Ridge. Gold filigree traced across the doors like roots of some ancient tree, humming faintly with enchantment.

“You like it?”

Lila’s voice came from the doorway, her curls spilling down her shoulder, her grin sharp but knowing.

I hesitated, my throat tight. “It’s… amazing,” I admitted, because lying to her would’ve been pointless.

She smirked like she’d won something, then winked. “Told you my brothers don’t do subtle.” And with that, she left me to unpack.

I didn’t. Instead, I made a beeline for the bathroom.

The damn bathroom looked like it belonged in a royal palace. Sleek black marble veined with silver, walls etched with protective runes that flared briefly when I turned the enchanted taps. A rainfall shower stretched overhead, steam curling instantly into the air, gold fixtures gleaming like they’d been polished just for me.

The second the hot water hit my skin, I exhaled. My shoulders sagged, my chest easing for the first time since… gods, I didn’t even know when. Maybe before the auditorium. Maybe before Ethan. The tension bled out of me in rivulets, pooling at my feet with the steam.

But relief was fleeting.

It was all too much. Their possessiveness. Jaxon’s intensity. Callum’s absolute control. Rory’s calculating charm. Seth’s wicked grin. It pressed down on me like a heavy fucking boulder, suffocating and inescapable.

I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t built for this.

When I finally stepped out, wrapped in a plush towel that swallowed me whole, I froze.

The toiletries lined neatly on the black marble counter weren’t generic academy issue. They were mine. My brands. My scents. Even the exact vanilla-rose lotion I kept hidden at the back of my dorm dresser.

How the hell did they know?

A small, traitorous part of me softened. Another part wanted to scream.

I shook my head and padded into the bedroom, collapsing onto the silk-draped bed. The sheets were cool against my overheated skin, the ceiling above me carved with constellations of wolves chasing the moons. The wards in the walls pulsed faintly, syncing with my racing heartbeat as if mocking me.

The quads had insisted I stay in their wing, cloaking the order in “safety” and “protection.”

But I wasn’t stupid.

They needed me close.

Not just to guard me.

Not just to protect the supposed Luna.

For themselves.

I could still hear Jaxon’s voice in the back of my mind, velvet-dark, teeth bared in a promise I hadn’t agreed to.

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

Maybe… just maybe…

Yeah no!