Seth

The hum of the SUV wasn’t loud enough to drown out Scar. My wolf was pacing, tail lashing, restless as hell because of her. Because of Snowflake.

She was tucked into the backseat between Rory and Jax, arms folded tight like she thought crossing them would protect her from us. Cute. Pointless. Her scent had already claimed every inch of this car—roses and tuberose tangled with something sharper. Like she was holding herself together with barbed wire, even though the bond hummed beneath her skin, steady and undeniable.

She thought she could hide it.

She couldn’t.

Scar clawed at me, whispering the same shit on repeat. Touch her. Pull her close. Make her melt.

I tightened my grip on the wheel, jaw clenched, eyes flicking up to the mirror. She was staring out the window, silver hair tumbling over one shoulder, face shadowed. Not cold. Not angry. Just… lost in her own head.

Trying.

That was the difference tonight. She wasn’t shutting us out anymore. But the way her chest rose a little too quick, the way her knuckles pressed white against her thighs, told me she was still spooked. The Academy had left its mark. And that flare? Ten out of fucking ten bond resonance? She was never going to forget that crowd staring at her like she was prey.

And neither were we.

Because the truth? We didn’t understand it either. Bond resonance that high didn’t exist. Not in Lycandra or anywhere else. Not in any pack history we’d been fed since we were pups. When it hit, when the runes lit and the wards screamed, even Cal’s mask had cracked.

We’d had to admit it to ourselves later: the only explanation was strength. Her strength, braided into ours. Four Alphas tied to one Luna. Maybe that multiplied the bond. Maybe it was why it burned hotter than anything we’d ever felt.

Or maybe it was because of what we were.

Second only to the Supreme Alphas.

The thought scraped sharp through my skull, and I caught Jax’s gaze in the mirror. He knew I was thinking it. He was thinking it too. All of us were.

The Supremes—Isaiah and Josiah Stark—ruled Lycandra on behalf of the Lycan Triplet Kings, the ones who held dominion over the realms themselves. The Kings were myths to most wolves, shadows with crowns, never seen except in flame-lit ceremonies. But their reach stretched everywhere, and the Supremes were their teeth. Their enforcers. Their answer to chaos.

And we—me, Jax, Rory, Cal—we were the closest thing anyone had seen to them. Not in blood, but in power. In dominance. In bond.

So maybe that was the answer. Maybe that was why the resonance had screamed to the heavens, ten out of ten. Because we weren’t just Alphas. We weren’t just quads. We were something else.

And she?

She was the key that made it work.

“Relax, Snowflake,” I said, voice low, teasing, but not cruel. “We’re going to the Night Market, not the gallows.”

Her eyes snapped up, catching mine in the mirror. Silver-blue. Bright. Defiant. “Stop calling me that.”

Scar purred. My grin widened. “Not a chance.”

Rory nudged her shoulder, trying to break the tension. “You’re wasting your breath, Princess. He calls Jax ‘asshole’ and Cal ‘old man.’ You? You’re Snowflake.”

Her lips parted, brows furrowing. “Why?”

Scar rumbled, and I didn’t bother to stop the words. I wanted her to hear this. Needed her to.

“Because you’re rare. One of a kind. Soft if someone’s stupid enough to touch wrong, but sharp enough to cut when you decide to fight. And when you melt, sweetheart? Nothing’s ever putting you back together again.”

Silence. Heavy. Charged.

Even Jax stopped glaring at the window. Rory smirked, but it didn’t have his usual bite. Cal didn’t say a word, though his storm eyes in the mirror were all calculation, all storm. He was probably cataloguing this, turning it over in his head like a puzzle. Because that’s what Cal did—tried to solve shit that didn’t have answers yet.

Her breath hitched. Just barely. Her thighs pressed tighter, and that flush started climbing her throat.

Scar fucking growled approval.

She shook her head, snapping her chin up. “You’re ridiculous.”

I leaned back in the seat, grin lazy, letting my gaze linger on her mouth a second too long. “Maybe. But I’m not wrong.”

She shifted, uncomfortable, but she didn’t break eye contact this time. Not completely. Progress.

Still, I smelled it—her nerves. The way fear and want tangled together, choking her. She’d had closure with that bastard Ethan, but that didn’t erase years of believing she wasn’t enough. And now? She was tied to us. Four Alphas. Too much, too fast.

Scar wanted to rip that fear out of her chest and replace it with nothing but heat. But I held the line. Barely.

When the lanterns of the Night Market came into view, glowing gold against the dark horizon, she leaned forward slightly, lips parting, eyes catching the shimmer of firelight in the distance. Awe broke through her walls for a heartbeat.

And fuck, it was beautiful.

I killed the engine, stretching slow, rolling my shoulders, making sure she noticed. Her eyes darted—just once—before she snapped them away again, flush high on her cheeks.

I twisted in my seat, voice dropping to something darker, hungrier. “Ready, Snowflake? Because once we step out there, every wolf in Lycandra will see you. And they’ll know you’re untouchable. They’ll know you’re ours.”

Her throat bobbed. She nodded. But her pulse was racing, and her hands trembled in her lap.

Fear. Want. Struggle.

She was trying. Still scared, but trying.

Scar pressed against my skin, satisfied. Because she’d chosen to come with us tonight. Because she hadn’t run.

Snowflakes melt easy, sure. But they also start avalanches.

And this one? She was already burying me alive.