Chapter 3: They are back?

Chapter 3

“Take it back!”

Landon’s furious shout cracked through the air the second I stepped into the principal’s office. My son stood rigid in the center of the room, small fists clenched at his sides, blood smeared across his knuckles and a fresh bruise blooming on his cheekbone. Opposite him, a larger boy—maybe eight or nine—sat cradling his bleeding nose while his father, Alpha Victor Kane, loomed like a storm cloud in an expensive tailored suit.

My heart slammed against my ribs as I rushed forward, dropping to my knees in front of Landon. “Sweetheart, what happened?” I touched his chin gently, tilting his face toward the light. The bruise was already darkening. Protective fury roared through my veins, hot and primal, even if my wolf had never awakened.

“He started it!” Landon jabbed a finger at the other boy. “Kit called me a worthless, fatherless mutt. Said we’re so poor my mom has to spread her legs for scraps at the clinic just to feed me. He said I shouldn’t even exist!”

The words landed like physical blows. I felt the blood drain from my face, then surge back in a burning rush. Slowly, I rose, turning toward Alpha Victor and Principal Hargrove, who was sweating behind his desk despite the air conditioning humming in the background.

“Alpha Kane,” I said, keeping my voice steady even as my hands trembled. “Your son provoked mine with vicious, personal insults. Surely the school has cameras or witnesses—”

“Ms. Voss,” Principal Hargrove interrupted, his tone oily and placating, “Kit is the one with the broken nose. Your son threw the first punch. Alpha Kane is understandably upset. This kind of violence won’t be tolerated at Silverveil Academy.”

I stared at him, disbelief twisting in my gut. Of course. Hargrove had always curried favor with the powerful. My family was just a single mother and her half-orphan pup easy to dismiss.

Victor Kane stepped forward, his alpha aura pressing down on the room like thick smoke. He was a big man, broad-shouldered with silver threading through his dark hair and cold gray eyes that reminded me too much of Ryker’s. “My son may have spoken carelessly, but physical assault crosses the line. The boy needs discipline. I expect a formal apology from your son tomorrow morning, in front of the entire class, or he will be expelled.”

Landon stiffened beside me, but I placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Inside, my mind was screaming. Apologize? For defending himself against cruelty?

“No,” I said firmly, meeting the alpha’s gaze even though every instinct told me to lower my eyes. “Landon will not apologize for reacting to targeted bullying. Your son insulted his family—insulted me—in the worst way. If anyone owes an apology, it’s Kit.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Victor’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer. “You dare speak to me that way, omega? A wolfless nobody raising a bastard pup thinks she can negotiate with an alpha?”

The slur landed exactly where he intended. I felt Landon flinch under my hand. My own shame and rage warred inside me, memories of another set of alphas looking at me with the same contempt six years ago flashing behind my eyes.

“I am Landon’s mother,” I said, voice low but unwavering. “And I will not teach my son to bow and scrape when he’s been wronged. We can discuss appropriate consequences for both boys, but a public humiliation is not on the table.”

Principal Hargrove looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him. Victor took another step closer, his presence suffocating. The faint scent of his pack—metallic and sharp like blood on steel—filled my nostrils.

“You seem to forget your place, girl. My family has contributed more to this pack than—”

A sharp knock on the door cut him off. A beta in formal uniform poked his head in, looking nervous. “Forgive the interruption, Alpha Kane, Principal. But the alphas from the Nightshade Pack have arrived for the alliance discussions. They’re waiting in the main hall and requested a tour of the facilities.”

Nightshade.

The word rang a bell in my head. The floor tilted beneath my feet. My stomach began to rumble, and for a terrifying second I couldn’t breathe. Nightshade. Ryker. Ronan. Rafe. Here. In this building. Only corridors away from my son—from their son.

No. No, no, no.

I grabbed Landon’s hand, my palm slick with sudden sweat. “We’re leaving,” I whispered urgently, tugging him toward the side door that led to the staff parking lot. “Right now.”

“Ms. Voss!” Principal Hargrove called after me, but I didn’t stop. My heart hammered so violently I could hear it in my ears. Landon stumbled slightly, confused, but kept pace as I half-dragged him down the narrow hallway lined with colorful children’s drawings and trophy cases.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice small. “Why are we running?”

I couldn’t answer. My throat had closed up. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed too bright, the linoleum floor too loud under my hurried steps. Every shadow looked like one of them. Every deep voice echoing from distant rooms sent ice down my spine. Six years of carefully constructed peace shattered in a single moment.

We rounded the corner toward the exit and slammed straight into a wall of solid muscle and overwhelming alpha scent.

I stumbled back, catching Landon against me. Three pairs of eyes locked onto us. Time froze.

Ryker stood in the center, taller and broader than I remembered, his dark hair cropped short and his jaw sharper. Power rolled off him in waves, controlled but lethal. Ronan leaned against the wall to his left, that same wicked, charming smile already forming on his lips, though it faltered the instant recognition hit. Rafe was on the right, silent and intense as ever, his stormy eyes widening fractionally as they dropped from my face to Landon’s.

The mate bond was dormant but never truly dead, it surged to life inside me like a live wire. Heat flared across my skin. My wolf, silent for so long, stirred with a whimper that nearly brought me to my knees. Mine. Ours.

No. Never again.

I stepped in front of Landon instinctively, shielding him with my body even though I knew it was pointless against three apex predators. My breathing came in shallow gasps. I could smell them, filled with cedar and storm and smoked whiskey, the exact combination that still haunted my dreams. Their scents had changed slightly with maturity, grown richer, more potent, but unmistakable.

“Elara,” Ryker said first, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my bones. It wasn’t a question. It was a claim.

I lifted my chin, forcing steel into my spine even as my knees threatened to buckle. “Don’t,” I warned, the word cracking. “Don’t you dare say my name.”

Ronan pushed off the wall, eyes flicking between me and Landon with growing intensity. “Little omega… you’ve been hiding.”

Rafe said nothing, but his gaze burned into Landon with laser focus. I saw the exact moment calculation shifted to realization—the slight flare of his nostrils, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Landon peeked around me, curious despite the tension. “Mom? Who are these guys?”

The question hung in the air like a guillotine. I felt the triplets’ attention sharpen, the air growing thick with their combined dominance. My chest ached. The partial bond pulled and twisted, whispering treacherous things about completion, about belonging, about the family we could have been.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I tightened my grip on Landon’s hand and took a careful step backward. “No one important,” I lied, my voice barely above a whisper. “We’re leaving.”

Ryker moved first, a single step that brought him closer, his eyes never leaving mine. There was shock there, yes, but something darker underneath, hunger, regret, possession. All the things I had once prayed to see and now feared more than death.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said quietly. The command in his tone was subtle but unmistakable. Alpha. “Not until we talk.”

Ronan’s smile had completely vanished, replaced by something raw and unsettled. Rafe still hadn’t spoken, but he shifted position, subtly blocking the hallway like a silent sentinel.

My mind raced. The exit was behind them. The side doors were too far. Principal Hargrove and Alpha Victor would be coming this way any second. I was trapped between my past and my present, with my greatest secret standing right beside me, holding my hand.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of them. Never again in front of them.

Six years ago they had destroyed me in that field house.

I would not let them destroy my son.