The Triplet's Bullied Mate
My magic might be gone, but my resolve, my fierce protectiveness, was stronger than ever.
The pack members, now more relaxed, slowly began to file in to see the room, their eyes wide with interest and admiration. They admired the soft, handcrafted details—the delicate mobile, the tiny clothes, the plush blankets. They paused at the sturdy wooden crib, crafted from dark, rich wood, noting the intricate, triple-marked insignia—the interwoven symbols of the Triplet Alphas—carved meticulously into its headboard. And above it, a simple, elegant nameplate that read: Little Star. A placeholder. A dream. A beacon of hope.
Bab Populer