Chapter 3: Defended For The First Time

When Freya slowly blinked her eyes open, the very first thing that greeted her vision was the expanse of a stunning, pristine white ceiling gracefully arching overhead. The soft, comforting illumination from above bathed the room in a gentle, ethereal glow.

With a curious glance, she began to survey her surroundings. Every inch of the room seemed to be steeped in this pristine, angelic white. From the chairs to the tables, the entire ambiance exuded an almost otherworldly quality. It was as if she had stepped into a realm where purity and elegance reigned supreme.

As her memory started to piece together the fragments of what had transpired before she lost consciousness, her hand instinctively went to her chest. She remembered Mariah resting her leg there before everything went dark. A tremor of uncertainty coursed through her as she tentatively uttered, "Am I dead?"

A voice, deep and masculine, emerged from somewhere behind her, shattering the silence. It was a voice that carried a note of reassurance, and yet it startled her. Her initial instinct was to leap out of the bed, but strong, reassuring hands kept her firmly grounded.

"Be careful," the voice advised, its tone almost a mumble.

Freya hesitated for a moment, her heart racing in her chest, before cautiously turning onto her side. What met her gaze was nothing short of breathtaking—a face so exceptionally handsome that it took her breath away. To her astonishment, the other two figures flanking her were equally striking.

With a disarming grin, she quipped, "If being dead means I get to be accompanied by such handsome men, then I don't mind."

A soft chuckle rumbled through Steele, who seemed to find her reaction utterly adorable. Leaning in slightly, he replied, "You're not dead."

The confusion deepened in Freya's eyes as she probed further, "Huh? If I'm not dead, then why—"

But before she could finish her sentence, her eyes widened in sheer shock. Jerking her hand away from Steele's grip, she practically vaulted out of the bed, lowering her head in a rush of apology, "I'm so sorry. I have no idea how I got here. I'll clean the whole room if I have to. Please forgive me."

The men's expressions darkened, and it didn't take a genius to discern the source of Freya's fear. The tremors of anxiety that gripped her were a testament to the repeated abuse she had endured, not only from her pack's alpha but from the pack members themselves. It was a pattern she had grown all too accustomed to—apologizing profusely whenever she made the slightest mistake.

Hunter, his smile softening, reassured her gently, "You don't need to be so scared of me."

Freya couldn't help but cower further. She had lived through this façade countless times—visitors feigning kindness to earn Alexander's favor, only to later humiliate her in front of everyone or even use her humiliation as a form of entertainment.

Though she knew nothing of these men's identities, an unsettling hunch gnawed at her. Were these the Alphas who had visited her pack? Her breathing grew more labored as this thought took hold.

"Please," Hunter began, trying to offer comfort, but when he saw Freya flinch, both Knight and Steele sprang to their feet, interrupting him.

"I'm Steele Lockwood."

"I'm Knight Sterling."

"And I'm Hunter Caldwell," Hunter added.

Despite their simultaneous introductions, Freya couldn't shake the feeling that she had guessed their true identities correctly. She took two cautious steps backward, her gaze wary. Was this their habit? Was this the reason other packs feared them?

Outwardly, the three Alphas presented themselves as harmless, their smiles masking the potentially murderous intent that lurked beneath their charismatic exteriors. As Freya stood at a distance, her heart pounding, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that they were already scheming a way to annihilate her.

"Alpha Steele, Alpha Hunter, and Alpha Knight, please forgive me. It wasn't my intention to end up in this room," she repeated her apology, her voice trembling.

The men exchanged glances, perplexed by her overwhelming fear despite how amiable they were.

"Can I please leave?" Freya requested nervously as she bit down on her lower lip.

Prepared to face the worst, she had already steeled herself for a fight. She knew she didn't stand a chance against them, but she wouldn't go out without a fight!

Unexpectedly, Steele agreed, "Sure. You can leave."

"Thank you," she mumbled and rushed out of the room, relief washing over her.

Once she was out of earshot, Steele couldn't hold back his thoughts any longer. "I do not like the idea of sharing my mate with either of you."

Knight mirrored his sentiments with a deep frown, saying, "I don't like the idea either."

Hunter, with a determined resolve, chimed in, "I'm glad you both share the same sentiment. Only one of us will be with her, and that person will be me."

Knight hissed in protest, "And why do you think I'll let that happen?"

"Because if you don't, then I'll be declaring war on your pack," Hunter retorted, his tone laced with menace.

"To hell with you and your pack! My pack is always ready for war, so bring it on and watch how I slay each and every one of them before cutting open your throat!" Knight responded violently.

Hunter's eyes flashed, and he growled fiercely at Knight, his fangs revealing themselves. Knight wasn't one to back down, and he responded in kind.

Meanwhile, Steele, overwhelmed by the scent of Freya still lingering on the duvet, couldn't help but inhale deeply, lost in the comforting aroma. His thoughts drifted to how it would feel to have her in his arms.

"I can't share my mate with either of you either! You both disgust me!" He suddenly growled, dropping the duvet back onto the bed. "I'd rather kill both of you than share her with you."

"No, I'd rather kill both of you than share her with either of you!" Knight retorted vehemently.

At that moment, the door was pushed open, revealing three men standing in the doorway. They dispersed, finding themselves beside each Alpha.

Undoubtedly, they were Betas.

"She fell unconscious on her way out of here," Steele's Beta was the first to report.

"She? Do you mean Freya?" Knight asked anxiously, rushing toward the door before he could receive a response.

The other two Alphas followed suit, their instincts driving them to find Freya. They traced her scent until they located her in a room, where a healer was tending to her.

Upon seeing the Alphas, the healer quickly rose and bowed his head slightly in respect.

Steele's voice carried a tinge of urgency as he inquired, "What happened to her?" He didn't even spare a glance at the healer.

The healer's eyes revealed a moment of inner conflict before he responded hesitantly, "She's not feeling too well."

However, his vague reply earned him nothing but glares from the three Alphas.

"That's why she's here. Now tell me what's wrong with her before I rip out your tongue," Hunter threatened, his claws ominously extending.

Before the healer could offer more details, Alexander, made his entrance.

"She wasn't able to eat last night. Unfortunately, the food had run out by the time she finished whatever she was doing," Alexander explained, coming to the healer's aid.

Freya lay unconscious, and the healer wisely refrained from exposing Alexander's involvement. However, this was of no concern to Steele, who irritably demanded, "Why aren't you doing anything to help her?"

The healer hung his head in embarrassment as he replied, "She's fine. She just needs to eat as soon as she wakes up."

"How long will that be?" Hunter pressed for more information.

"A few hours," the healer responded.

"If she's genuinely starving as you claim, then you should wake her now and feed her. Starvation only makes people tired and extremely sleepy," Knight interjected, moving closer to Freya.

Upon Knight's suggestion, the healer looked to Alexander for guidance, who nodded in agreement.

"I'll inform the chef to prepare something for her to eat," the healer confirmed.

Steele, however, seemed troubled by the idea of another man caring for Freya. He asked Alexander, "Is he the only healer in your pack?"

Alexander shook his head, trying to dispel any doubts they had about the healer's competence. "Menroe is proficient at his job. Freya will be fine before you know it."

Steele persisted, asking, "Is there any nearby pack with a female healer?"

Once again, Alexander shook his head, unable to provide an alternative.

Sighing audibly, Steele entered the room fully, positioning himself just inches from the bed. He addressed Menroe, the healer, directly, offering a stern word of caution, "A word of advice; I'll kill you the moment your hand strays where it shouldn't."

Knight and Hunter, instantly comprehending Steele's intent, became equally vigilant. Under the unwavering scrutiny of these dominant men, Menroe realized that his life hung by a thin thread.

Just a week earlier, when Freya had sought his help with a bleeding hemorrhage, he had cruelly refused and even ordered the pack's warriors to remove her from his presence. He, along with other pack members, had secretly wished for her demise due to the internal bleeding.

Hunter took charge, instructing Alexander without sparing him a glance, "Send someone else to the kitchen. Menroe will stay here and attend to her."

With doubt still lingering in his eyes, Alexander complied with Hunter's directive. He left the room to relay the message to a pack member outside, then proceeded to enter the adjacent room.

As he stepped into the room, he was immediately met by Mariah's watchful gaze.

"Are you alright?" Alexander asked with genuine concern as he hurried to Mariah's side.

"I'm fine," Mariah replied with a groan. "I'm hearing a lot. Is it true that Freya is mated to the three Alphas?"

"We're still sorting it out. For now, you should focus on your recovery," Alexander replied evasively.

Mariah promptly sat up, her werewolf resilience aiding her swift recovery. "I'm a werewolf; I heal quickly."

"Of course. Only a wolfless omega shows her weakness to the entire world," he noted with a hint of disdain.

Mariah's anxiety surged. She had been striving to maintain a facade of well-behaved submission in front of Alexander. It would be a devastating blow to her carefully crafted image if he discovered she wasn't as pure as she pretended to be.

"I was only trying to teach Freya a lesson. I didn't mean to hurt her in any way," she said in a voice tinged with guilt.

Alexander sat on the bed beside her, offering comfort. He placed her head on his chest and reassured her, "You don't need to apologize. I know you'd never hurt anyone intentionally, no matter what they do to you."

Mariah's smile turned lewd as she shifted the conversation. "I presume I was kicked by one of the Alphas. Won't he insist I get punished for hurting Freya?"

Alexander placed his chin on her head and whispered softly, "Once Freya wakes up, I'll order her to tell the Alphas that you did nothing wrong, that she was the one in the wrong."