Chapter 16
Blake
"So what do we do?" I ask finally, my voice rough. My knuckles are still bleeding, but I don't care. The physical pain is nothing compared to the chaos in my head.
An hour ago we were drunk and celebrating. Now we're sober and facing the biggest crisis of our lives.
Asher closes his eyes, and when he opens them, they're pure Alpha gold—the eyes of a leader making a battle plan.
"We have six months until graduation," he says. "Six months to prove we've changed. Six months to earn her trust. Six months to make her want us."
"And if she runs before then?" I challenge.
"Then we chase her," Cole says softly. "We chase her to the ends of the earth if we have to. Because she's ours, and we're not letting her go."
"But we don't force anything."
Asher's voice is steel. He looks at both of us, and I recognize the expression—it's the same one he wore when he made me stop putting earthworms in Kara's lunch in middle school. The same one he wore when he ordered us not to mention her weight anymore last year.
The face of an Alpha drawing a line in the snow.
"We don't force her into anything," he repeats. "No unwanted touching. No Alpha commands. No using the bond against her. We give her space. We give her choices. And we pray to the Moon that she chooses us."
"That's a lot of hoping and praying," I mutter.
"Do you have a better plan?" Asher snaps.
I look away, jaw clenched.
None of us do.
"We need a concrete strategy," I say, forcing my voice steady. "Not just 'be better' and hope she notices."
Asher nods slowly. He sinks down onto Kara's pathetic excuse for a bed, elbows on his knees. The birthday celebration feels like it happened in another lifetime.
"You're right. Three priorities."
He ticks them off on his fingers:
"One: Immediate quality of life improvements. She moves out of this closet tomorrow. She stops doing household labor immediately. We publicly acknowledge her real status—not as a debt servant, but as our future Luna."
"Mom and Dad will lose their minds," I point out.
"Fuck Mom and Dad."
Cole and I both stare at Asher. Our brother—Mr. Perfect, Mr. Follow-the-Rules—just said fuck Mom and Dad.
"I mean it," Asher continues, his voice hardening. "They created this situation. They brought an eight-year-old child into this house and turned her into unpaid labor. They taught us to treat her like—"
He stops, jaw working.
"This ends now. We're Alphas as of dawn. Our word is law. And my first official act is declaring that Kara is under our protection."
"Two," Cole says quietly. "We apologize. Really apologize. Not the half-assed 'sorry you're upset' bullshit from earlier tonight. We acknowledge every specific thing we did, and we don't make excuses."
I wince. "Do we have to bring up the game—"
"Especially the game." Asher's voice is firm. "She almost died, Blake. We almost killed her. She deserves to hear us say that out loud."
My wolf whines in my chest. The memory of eleven-year-old Kara, blue-lipped and shaking, her eyes glazed with hypothermia—
I'm going to be sick again.
"And three," Asher continues, "we control ourselves. No forced marking. No pressuring her into intimacy. Her wolf might want us, but her human side—"
"Hates us," I finish bluntly. "Her human side fucking hates us."
"Can you blame her?" Cole's voice is barely a whisper.
No. I can't.
I think about the look on her face earlier when she said she didn't want a mate. The absolute conviction in her voice when she said any mate of hers would "probably be mean."
She was talking about us.
She already knows we're awful, and she's decided she'd rather be alone than risk that happening again.
"So we prove her wrong," I hear myself say. "We prove that we can be better. That we are better."
"Are we though?"
Cole's question hangs in the air like a challenge.
Are we better? Or are we just three assholes who got hit by the mate bond and suddenly decided to play nice?
"We have to be," Asher says finally. "Because if we're not—if we can't give her a reason to stay—then we lose her. And if we lose her..."
He doesn't finish. He doesn't have to.
Through the mind link, I can feel what he's feeling: the yawning chasm of rejection sickness. The slow death of watching your mate walk away. The knowledge that you'll spend the rest of your life feeling like half a person.
No. My wolf snarls. Not acceptable. She's OURS.
"Then we make damn sure she wants to be ours," I say aloud.
I stand up, pacing the tiny room. My mind is racing, all traces of alcohol burned away by adrenaline and purpose.
"That's ambitious," Cole says, but there's a hint of a smile on his face.
"We're Alphas," I counter. "Ambition is what we do."
Asher shakes his head, but he's almost-smiling too. "You make it sound like a military campaign."
"What if she still says no?" Cole asks quietly. "What if we do everything right and she still can't forgive us?"
"Then we keep trying." Asher's voice is rock-solid. "We keep trying until she dies or we die. Because that's what mates do. That's what the bond means."
He stands, and suddenly the room feels smaller, his Alpha presence filling every corner.
"From this moment forward, Kara is our top priority. Above pack business. Above family politics. Above everything. Her safety. Her happiness. Her healing. That's our job now."
"Agreed," Cole and I say in unison.
Through the mind link, I feel the snap of a decision made. A path chosen. A future locked into place.
"We should let her sleep," Asher says finally. "Wherever she is right now, she needs rest. Tomorrow's going to be overwhelming for her."
"Should we leave?" Cole asks, looking reluctant.
"No."
The word comes out of my mouth before I can think about it. Both brothers look at me.
"I'm staying." I move to Kara's mattress, lowering myself onto the thin padding. "If she comes back—when she comes back—I want to be here."
"Blake—" Asher starts.
"I'm not leaving," I interrupt. "She's scared and alone somewhere in this massive house. When she gets cold enough, hungry enough, tired enough—she'll come back. And I'm going to be here so she knows she's not alone anymore."
Asher and Cole exchange a glance.
Then, without a word, they both move to join me.
We're too big for this tiny mattress—three full-grown Alphas trying to fit in a space meant for one small girl. But we make it work, arms and legs tangled, our combined scents.
"This is insane," Cole mutters, his elbow jabbing into my ribs.
"This is perfect," I correct.
And it is.
For the first time in twenty years, something clicks into place in my chest. Something I didn't even know was missing until this moment.