Chapter 27
Kara
I turn slowly.
They've positioned themselves in a perfect triangle around me. Asher directly in my path to the exit, his tall frame blocking the corridor entrance. Blake to my right, arms crossed over his chest, fire-and-leather scent intensifying with each breath. Cole to my left, hands in his pockets, mint-fresh scent weaving through the others like a lullaby I don't want to hear.
Classic wolf pack hunting formation.
My heart hammers against my ribs.
"I—I still have work," I manage. My voice comes out steady. A miracle. "Glasses to collect. The kitchen needs—"
"Your work is done." Asher reaches out and plucks the tray from my hands before I can protest. His fingers brush mine—deliberate, sending sparks racing up my arm. "Margaret can handle the rest."
No. No no no.
"I can't just—"
"You can." Blake moves closer. Not touching, but close enough that his body heat radiates against my bare shoulder. "You will."
His hand settles on my waist—large, warm, possessive. Palm pressed against the silver fabric like he's branding me through the cloth.
I jerk away—or try to. His grip tightens just enough to keep me in place.
"Don't." Blake's voice drops to a rough whisper against my ear. "Don't make us carry you out of here in front of everyone, Baby. Come with us. Quietly."
It's not a request.
My gaze darts around the ballroom. Guests pretending not to watch while absolutely watching. Margaret by the kitchen door, eyes wide with shock—or is that satisfaction? Luna Victoria near the fireplace, face cold and unreadable.
If I fight them here, in front of everyone, I become the spectacle. The ungrateful debt-girl refusing the Alphas who finally noticed her.
Cole appears in front of me, his hand extended like a gentleman asking for a dance.
"Please, Kara." His blue eyes are soft, pleading. "We just want to talk. Give us a chance to explain."
His fingers close around my right wrist—gentle but firm. His thumb traces circles on my pulse point, leaving streaks of peppermint scent on my skin.
The room seems to tilt.
Asher's ebony-smoke scent wraps around my left side. Blake's gunpowder-leather heat presses against my right. Cole's cool mint-ozone pulls me forward.
Three Alphas. Three scents. Three walls of muscle and dominance and want closing in from every angle.
My wolf rolls over, belly-up, whining: Submit. Accept. They're ours.
My human side claws for control: This is a trap. This is how they cage you.
But what choice do I have?
I nod once. Sharp. Angry.
"Fine."
---
They escort me through the crowd like I'm made of glass and explosives simultaneously—Asher leading, Blake behind, Cole at my side with his hand still circling my wrist.
Guests part for us. Whispers follow in our wake:
"Is that Kara?"
"The debt-girl?"
"Why are all three Alphas...?"
"Oh my god, is she their mate?"
My cheeks burn. My neck heats where the mate gland throbs under my skin.
Don't look at them. Don't show weakness.
We reach the grand staircase. Ascend to the second floor. Then the third.
The private Alpha family wing.
I've cleaned these halls a thousand times but never been invited inside the actual bedrooms. The carpet up here is thicker, cream-colored, muffling our footsteps. Oil paintings of past Alphas line the walls—stern faces watching our procession with dead eyes.
Asher stops at the second door on the right. His room.
He pushes it open. The scent that rolls out nearly knocks me over—pure concentrated ebony and tobacco, the olfactory equivalent of his control and authority.
"After you," he says quietly.
I step inside because refusing means Blake will make good on his threat to carry me.
The room is enormous. Forty square meters at least. King-size bed with dark gray sheets. Walnut furniture that probably costs more than my father's debts. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the frozen forest.
And everywhere—everywhere—the smell of them.
The door clicks shut behind me.
Locks.
The sound is small. Final.
My pulse explodes.
I bolt for the far corner by the window, pressing my back against the cold glass. Maximum distance between me and them.
"Kara—" Cole starts forward.
"Don't." The word cracks like a whip. "Don't come closer."
He freezes mid-step, hands up in surrender. Hurt flashes across his face.
Good. Let him hurt. Let them all hurt like they hurt me.
Asher raises both hands slowly, palms out. The gesture looks wrong on him—an Alpha showing submission. "We won't harm you. I promise."
"Your promises mean nothing." My voice shakes but holds. "Ten years of promises to your parents that you'd 'leave the debt-girl alone.' Ten years of promising each other you'd make my life hell. Why should I believe you now?"
Blake leans against the door—blocking the only exit. His arms cross over his chest. His gunpowder scent spikes, sharp and dangerous.
"Because we were kids," he grits out. "Stupid, cruel kids who didn't understand—"
"You were fourteen when you threw me in the outside." My hands curl into fists at my sides. "Fourteen isn't a child. Fourteen is old enough to know killing someone is wrong."
Silence falls like a guillotine blade.
Cole sinks onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands. "We know," he whispers. "God, Kara, we know."
"Do you?" I look between them—these three identical faces that have haunted my nightmares for a decade. "Do you really? Because from where I'm standing, this looks an awful lot like three Alphas who finally realized their biology chose the help as their mate and now they're trying to salvage the situation with apologies and pretty words."
Asher flinches like I've slapped him.
"That's not—" He stops. Starts again. "You're right. About all of it. We were monsters to you. There's no excuse. Nothing we can say will make it okay."
"Then what do you want?" The question rips out of me. "Why drag me up here? Why lock the door? Why not just reject the bond and let me leave?"
"Because we can't." Blake's voice is raw. Desperate. "Don't you get it? We tried. For ten years we tried to ignore you, to make you invisible, to pretend you didn't exist because even then, even before the bond snapped into place, something about you made us—" He cuts himself off, jaw clenching.
"Made you what?"
"Made us want to hurt you," Cole finishes quietly. "Because we were afraid of what you made us feel."
---
I slide down the window until I'm sitting on the floor, legs pulled to my chest. The words circle in my head like vultures.
Afraid of what you made us feel.
Ten years. Ten years of torment because they were afraid?
"That's not a reason." My voice is hollow. "That's an excuse."
"You're right." Asher moves slowly, telegraphing every motion, and sits on the floor too—keeping distance, not crowding. "It's not a reason. It's an explanation. A shit one."
Blake remains at the door. Cole stays on the bed.
All of them giving me space.
All of them radiating that triple-thick Alpha scent that makes my wolf moan and my gland pulse and my body betray every ounce of resolve I've built.
"Kara." Asher's voice gentles. "You already know, don't you? You're our mate. Identical triplets—same genetic sequence, shared pheromone spectrum. We only get one mate between the three of us."
"I know the biology." I cut him off with cold precision. "I got an A+ in that unit, remember? Same genetic code means your wolves share a mate. Rare but documented. I know how it works."
"But knowing and accepting—"