Chapter 42
Kara
"Asked?" Victoria's laugh is sharp and brittle. "Or ordered? Because from where I'm standing, this looks like three Alphas taking advantage of a girl who doesn't know how to say no."
My breath catches. The implication—the accusation—lands like a slap.
"That's not—" Cole starts, his mint scent spiking with distress.
"Enough." Asher's voice cuts through the tension like a blade. His ebony scent floods the room, thick with Alpha authority. "You don't get to walk into our private space and make accusations, Mother. Not anymore."
"Your private space?" Victoria's green eyes flash dangerously. "Asher, this is still my house—"
"No." The single word from Asher stops her cold. "This is our house now. We are the Alphas of Silver Frost Pack. You and Father are retired. Which means you follow our rules. Not the other way around."
The power shift is so stark it makes the air crackle.
Marcus clears his throat. His expression is carefully neutral, but I catch the flicker of something in his eyes—approval? resignation?—before he masks it. "Son, we heard screaming. We came to investigate. Surely you can understand why we'd be concerned."
"She was upset." Blake's hand finds my elbow—gentle, grounding. "We were talking. Working things out."
"Working things out." Victoria's tone drips with skepticism. She takes a step closer, her lily scent sharpening. "Is that what you call keeping her in your bedroom all night? Dressing her in your clothes? Making her scream loud enough to wake the entire third floor?"
Heat floods my face. The implication is clear—and utterly wrong.
"We didn't—" I start, but my voice comes out too weak. Too defensive.
"Nothing happened." Cole moves to my other side, his mint scent wrapping around me like a shield. "We just slept. All of us. Because Kara needed—"
"What Kara needs," Victoria interrupts coldly, "is to understand her place. Which is not in your beds before she's been properly marked and mated. What will the pack think when they hear their future Alphas are keeping their supposed Luna in one of your bedrooms like some kind of—"
"Finish that sentence." Blake's voice drops to a growl. His gunpowder scent explodes through the room, aggressive and territorial. "I fucking dare you, Mother. Finish it and see what happens."
Marcus steps forward, placing a hand on Victoria's arm. "Blake—"
"No." Blake shakes his head, jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. "She doesn't get to come in here and disrespect Kara like this. I don't care if she's my mother or the former Luna or the Queen of England. She calls Kara by her name and treats her with respect or she leaves. Those are the only options."
Victoria's face goes pale, then red. "How dare you—"
"How dare you." Asher's voice is pure Alpha command now, layered with authority that makes even Marcus straighten. "Kara is our mate. Our Luna. The future mother of our children. And if you can't show her the respect that position demands, then you have no place in our private quarters. Ever."
The words hang in the air like a thrown gauntlet.
Victoria's mouth opens and closes. For the first time since I've known her, she looks genuinely lost for words.
Marcus exhales slowly. His oak scent softens fractionally—not quite approval, but something close to acceptance. "Boys." He addresses all three of them, his tone careful. "Your mother and I... we understand that things are changing. That you've found your mate and want to establish your own household. But you have to understand how this looks."
"How what looks?" Cole asks quietly.
"This." Marcus gestures vaguely at me. "She's barely eighteen. She's been living under our roof as... well, in a difficult position. And now suddenly she's in your bedroom, in her nightclothes, crying. You have to see how people might misinterpret that."
"Let them misinterpret." Asher's voice is stone. "We know the truth. Kara knows the truth. That's all that matters."
"Is it?" Marcus's gaze shifts to me. Really looks at me for maybe the first time in ten years. His expression is unreadable. "Kara. Are you here willingly? Do you feel safe?"
The question catches me off guard.
Am I here willingly? Do I feel safe?
Twenty-four hours ago, the answer would have been a resounding no. Would have been screamed from the rooftops.
But now...
"I..." My voice is hoarse from screaming. "I'm here because I chose to be. Because they asked and I... I said yes."
It's not the whole truth. But it's not a lie either.
The silence after my admission hangs heavy.
Marcus's oak scent softens fractionally. Not quite approval, but something closer to... resignation? Acceptance?
"Very well." His voice is measured. Diplomatic. "But you need to understand something, all of you." His gaze sweeps across the three Alphas, then lands back on me. "Kara is still very young. She's barely eighteen—just completed her first shift two days ago. And you three aren't much older. Twenty years old. Your collective romantic experience amounts to... what? Changing girlfriends every two weeks?"
Blake's jaw clenches. His gunpowder scent spikes with defensiveness.
But Marcus continues, relentless. "From my observation, Kara's entire life has consisted of cleaning rooms, cooking meals, and solving math problems. She has zero experience navigating intimate relationships. Meanwhile, you three adult Alphas brought her into a bedroom in the middle of the night, surrounded her with your scents, slept pressed against her body, and constantly touched her. Three of you. And just two days ago, you were still competing for her attention at that party."
His words land like physical blows.
"For a girl who just awakened..." Marcus pauses, letting the weight settle. "That's an enormous burden."
I feel my face flame. Because he's right.
God, he's actually... defending me?
The former Alpha who treated me like a piece of shit for ten years is now speaking up for my welfare. The cognitive dissonance makes my head spin. What the fuck is happening? Is this some kind of elaborate mind game? Some new form of torture I haven't learned to recognize yet?
My wolf stirs uneasily, confused by my suspicion. She wants to trust this. But I can't. I won't.
"But we didn't—" Cole starts, his mint scent spiking with anxiety. "I mean, nothing... no mating occurred. We just slept together."
Victoria's lily scent turns glacial. "From your perspective, perhaps. But from hers?" She gestures at me with one elegant hand. "Three Alphas releasing oppressive scents, taking turns holding her through the night, sandwiching her between your bodies... she might have experienced it very differently."
Oh fuck.
She's... she's actually considering my side? The woman who made my life hell for ten years is acknowledging that I might have felt pressured?
I don't know whether to laugh or cry or scream all over again.
All three brothers' expressions darken. Their combined scents—ebony, gunpowder, mint—lose their brightness, dulling with self-recrimination and confusion.
And suddenly, inexplicably, I want to comfort them.
No. No, no, no. What the hell is wrong with me?
I regret my screaming. Regret causing this scene in front of their parents. Regret making them look so... diminished.
But why? Why should I feel guilty for their discomfort when they tormented me for a decade? When Blake called me fat two days ago? When they left me to freeze in the snow? When they pushed me under the ice until I thought I'd drown?