Chapter 56
Kara
He carries me downstairs like I weigh nothing, ignoring my protests, and deposits me on the kitchen counter with a firm command: "Stay."
"I'm not a dog."
"Then stop trying to run away every five minutes."
Asher and Cole appear in the doorway, both looking rumpled and exhausted—but their eyes light up when they see me perched on the counter.
"Morning, Goddess," Cole says softly, moving to stand beside me. His mint-and-ozone scent wraps around me, cooling Blake's fire.
But when his hand rests on my bare knee—when the hell did my jeans ride up?—heat flares again. My skin tingles where he touches.
Asher just watches, blue eyes sharp and assessing. Calculating.
Through their mind link, I catch fragments:
—she came to Blake's room on her own—
—testing boundaries, like I said—
—her scent is stronger today, less afraid—
—more aroused—
My face burns hotter.
Blake starts pulling ingredients from the fridge—eggs, bacon, blueberries. "You all just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help?"
Cole hops up beside me on the counter, close enough that our thighs touch. The contact sends electricity through my body.
Fuck. What is wrong with me?
Asher leans against the opposite counter, arms crossed, still watching me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve.
"Why'd you go to Blake's room?" he asks quietly.
I glance away. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do."
I bite my lip. Because my wolf wouldn't shut up. Because I needed to know if he was okay. Because I'm terrified of what I'm starting to feel.
"I just… wanted to check on him."
"And?" Asher prompts.
"And nothing. He woke up. Dragged me into bed. Then brought me here."
Blake flashes a grin over his shoulder. "Best morning of my life."
Cole laughs, fingers brushing a stray curl away from my face—and the touch makes my breath catch. "Ours too."
His thumb traces my jawline, and my pulse jumps. He notices, eyes darkening.
Shit. They can probably hear my fucking heartbeat.
The domestic warmth of it—Blake cooking, Cole teasing, Asher quietly protective—it's too much. It feels like a family. Like I belong here.
You do, my wolf insists. This is home now.
But I can't let myself believe that. Not yet.
---
Blake slides a plate in front of me—fluffy blueberry waffles, crispy bacon, perfectly scrambled eggs. "Eat."
I stare at it. "This is… a lot."
"You didn't eat dinner last night." His tone brooks no argument. "You need fuel."
He forks up a bite of waffle and holds it to my lips. "Open."
"I can feed myself—"
"Humor me."
I open my mouth, and he slides the fork in, watching with fierce satisfaction as I chew. The waffle is perfect—sweet and buttery, melting on my tongue.
A tiny moan escapes before I can stop it.
All three of them freeze.
Blake's pupils dilate. Cole's hand tightens on my knee. Asher's knuckles go white on the counter edge.
"Good?" Blake asks, voice rough.
I nod, swallowing. "Really good."
"Then keep going."
He continues feeding me, alternating bites of waffle, bacon, and eggs, while Cole pours me orange juice and Asher just watches, that calculating look never leaving his face.
Every bite Blake feeds me feels obscene. His gaze locks on my mouth, watching my lips close around the fork, tracking the movement of my throat as I swallow.
Cole's hand hasn't left my knee. His thumb draws slow circles on my skin, inching higher with each pass.
Jesus Christ, I'm going to combust right here in the kitchen.
"We're taking you to school," Asher announces.
I nearly choke. "What?"
"You're not walking in the cold anymore." His tone is final. "Blake will drive."
"I have my own car—"
"Which you'll drive after those marks fade." Blake taps my neck with one finger, making me shiver. "Right now, everyone needs to see you arriving with us."
"Why?"
"Because," Asher says quietly, "you're ours. And it's time the whole school knows it."
---
The SUV ride is tense.
Blake drives with one hand on the wheel, the other locked around mine, thumb stroking my knuckles in slow, possessive circles.
In the backseat, I'm wedged between Cole and Asher. Cole's thigh presses against mine. Asher's arm drapes across the seat behind me, fingers occasionally brushing my shoulder.
Their combined scents fill the enclosed space—ebony smoke, gunpowder leather, mint ozone—wrapping around me until I'm dizzy with it.
My core throbs. My nipples are tight peaks beneath Blake's shirt. Every breath feels like foreplay.
This is torture.
When we pull into the Northern High parking lot, I see the crowd immediately. Students everywhere, clustered in groups, phones out—because Blake's black SUV is unmistakable.
"I can walk from here—"
"No." Blake cuts the engine and turns to me. "You walk in with me. Or you don't walk in at all."
"Blake—"
He cups my jaw, forcing me to meet his burning gaze. "Kiss me."
"What?"
"Kiss me. Right here. In front of everyone."
My heart hammers. "Why?"
"Because I need them to see." His voice drops to a growl. "I need every single wolf in that school to know you're mine."
Ours, Asher corrects through the link.
Ours, Blake amends. "Please, Baby. Just one kiss."
My face burns. I can feel hundreds of eyes on the SUV, waiting, watching.
This is it. The moment I stop being invisible.
I lean in—aiming for his cheek—but Blake turns his head at the last second, and my lips brush the corner of his mouth.
"Not good enough." He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in, kissing me hard and deep, his tongue sweeping across my lower lip, claiming me in front of the entire school.
When he finally lets go, I'm breathless and dizzy, lips swollen, wetness flooding my panties.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
"Now they know," he murmurs, then steps out and opens my door.
Every eye in the parking lot is on us.
And on my neck—where three marks burn like brands.
---
The hallway goes silent when I walk in.
Every student stares. Whispers ripple through the crowd like wildfire.
"Three marks—"
"—all of them—"
"—she's their mate—"
Sophia and Emma shriek and sprint toward me, Emma yanking down my scarf before I can stop her.
"Kara!" she gasps. "You let them mark you?!"
"It's temporary," I mutter, face burning.
"Temporary or not, the whole school is freaking out," Sophia says, eyes wide. "You're officially Luna-in-training. Do you know what that means?"
Before I can answer, Dr. Harrison's voice cuts through the chaos: "Miss Sterling, if you'd take your seat."
The classroom erupts in laughter. My face burns hotter.
But Dr. Harrison's expression is serious. "That's Miss Kara Sterling, future Luna of the Silver Frost Pack. I expect you all to show proper respect."
The laughter dies instantly.
And for the first time in ten years, no one calls me "Carrot."
---
By lunch, I'm exhausted.
Every class is the same—stares, whispers, students suddenly bowing their heads when I pass. Even Dorian—the guy who used to steal my hair ties and trip me in the halls—stops me in the corridor and hands me a faded scrunchie.
"This is yours," he mutters, not meeting my eyes. "I, uh… took it. Freshman year. Sorry."
Then he's gone before I can respond.
At the end of the day, Dr. Harrison finds me at my locker.
"Walk with me," he says quietly.
We head toward the parking lot in silence. Finally, he speaks:
"Kara, I've known you since you were eight years old. I've watched you carry burdens no child should bear." He stops, turning to face me. "Those marks on your neck—are they something you chose? Or something you felt you had to accept?"
My throat tightens. "I… I don't know yet."
His expression softens. "Then take your time. You're eighteen. You just had your First Shift. You have every right to say 'slow down.' Even to your fated mates."
In the parking lot, Blake's SUV idles at the curb. Asher in the driver's seat. Cole waving from the passenger side.
Dr. Harrison's gaze hardens. "They're powerful young men. And they've made mistakes." He raises his voice slightly, enough for the Alphas to hear: "Patience. Gentleness. Respect. Those are what a true Alpha offers his Luna."
Then he walks away.
I climb into the SUV, and Blake immediately pulls me into his lap.
"Did he lecture you?" he asks, concern creasing his brow.
"He reminded me I have a choice."
"You do." Asher meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. "You always do."
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I think I might actually believe him.
But as Blake's arms tighten around me, his scent flooding my lungs, my core clenching with need—I wonder if my body has already made the choice my mind refuses to accept.
Fuck.