Mated To Three, Fated To Two

I woke to silence. The kind that buzzes in your ears and makes your skin crawl.

The sheets beneath me were expensive—cool silk that screamed power, not comfort. The scent was masculine, sharp, and disturbingly familiar.

One whiff, and I knew.

Kael.

The ice prince himself.

Of course he'd be the one command them to drag me back to the pack house after I passed out from whatever mate-bonding nightmare I'd stumbled into.

I sat up slowly, expecting pain. Instead, I felt… different. Stronger. More aware. My wolf, who'd always been a dull throb in the back of my mind, was now fully awake—pacing around furiously, stretching, snarling, vibrating with a hunger I couldn't name.

The door clicked open.

I flinched.

Kael stepped in like he owned the floor I sat on. Not a single piece of him was casual. Gold eyes, sharp and unreadable, zero emotion on that stupidly beautiful face. He looked carved from stone, all broad shoulders and strawberry-blonde hair tied back like he'd just walked out of a battlefield.

His eyes swept over me once. No smirk. No frown. Just pure calculation.

"You're awake."

"No sh*t, Sherlock," I snapped.

He ignored the jab. "You shifted. The bond's sealed."

I shoved the covers off. "Undo it."

Kael tilted his head. "That's not how this works."

"Then explain it."

He didn't move closer. "You were born wolf but locked out of your nature. The curse chose us to fix that."

"Curse," I echoed. "Right. Because fate looked at the Hale girl and thought, 'You know what'd be fun? Bond her to three emotionally unavailable psychopaths.'"

Something flickered in his expression. Barely there. But it was a crack. A small one.

"I don't care how you feel about it," he said coolly. "This isn't a love story. It's a binding. A contract written in blood. You're not an omega anymore, Olivia. You're ours."

"No," I shot back, standing. "I don't belong to anyone. Especially not to you."

He stepped forward then. Just once. And suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

"You belong to this pack now. To me. To Riven. To Silas. You'll learn to accept it, or you'll break under it."

"I'd rather burn."

His eyes narrowed. "Then burn. But you're not walking out that door unless I say so."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open. A test. A warning. Maybe both.

Seconds later, someone filled the space he left behind.

Riven.

Black-haired chaos in a leather jacket. Muscles, tattoos, and a scar that looked like it had a story I'd never hear.

"Kael always this warm and fuzzy, or is it just me?" I asked.

Riven grinned. A sharp, cocky thing that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You're awake. Cute."

I scowled. "I'm not cute. I'm pissed."

"Even better." He stepped inside like he lived here, hands shoved in his pockets, green eyes raking over me. "You should've seen the three of us, you know. Pacing like caged animals while you were out cold. Never thought I'd live to see Kael panic."

"He didn't look panicked."

"That's because you're not fluent in Kael. I am."

I crossed my arms. "You done flirting?"

"Who's flirting?" he asked, mock serious. "I just like watching your face go all red when I say things like—'Hey, trouble. Miss me?'"

I groaned. "You're insufferable."

"And you're bonded to me. So I guess we're both cursed." He shrugged. "Look, I don't do pack loyalty. I don't do rules. And I definitely don't do fate. But something happened in those woods, and now I can't stop thinking about you."

My heart thudded. Stupid wolf.

"You don't even know me."

"I know enough."

He took a step forward, and my body tensed, not from fear—but from something much, much worse.

Want.

"If you want to survive this," he said, voice low, "don't lie to yourself. Your wolf knows we're hers. Even if you haven't figured it out yet."

Then he brushed past me, the scent of smoke and sin trailing behind like a warning.

And then came the last knock.

Soft. Almost polite.

"Darling omega," a voice sang.

I stiffened. "Go away, Silas."

The door creaked open anyway. Of course.

Silas walked in like he was delivering bad news with a bouquet of roses. Gold curls, pretty-boy smile, and hazel eyes that shouldn't have been terrifying—but were.

"Look at you," he said, head tilted. "All fire and fury and bare feet."

"I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood. And yet, here you are. In our house. Breathing our air."

"I didn't choose this."

"No one ever does. Fate chooses. And fate, darling, has a wicked sense of humor."

He came closer, and the air tightened around us. Silas had that thing—predator in a silk shirt energy. The kind that made you forget he was dangerous until his teeth were already in your throat.

"Here's how this goes," he murmured. "You fight us. You run. You curse our names and slam every door in this house."

I swallowed. "And if I don't?"

He smiled wider. "Then we ruin you. Gently, sweetly, completely."

I slapped him.

Hard.

He didn't flinch. Just blinked. Then… laughed.

"Oh, Liv," he whispered. "You're going to be so much fun."

Then he turned and left me—dizzy, breathless, and absolutely furious.

I sank onto the bed, heart pounding, head spinning.

Three triplets. Three wolves. Three nightmares wrapped in bodies I had no business craving.

And me?

I was the cursed girl with a target on her soul—and three monsters fighting over who got to claim it first.