Chapter 3: A Strange Change
I woke up the next morning feeling different.
Not better. Not healed.
Just... unsettled.
The triplets’ words from last night still clung to my skin like an unwanted touch, their voices curling around my thoughts, refusing to let go.
"Only we have the right to do this to you."
Dorian’s voice had been low, almost casual. But there had been nothing casual about the look in his eyes.
And worse, my wolf had reacted.
Why?
I shook the thought away as I slipped out of my tiny, forgotten room in the back of the pack house. The hallways were already buzzing with life, omegas rushing about, warriors preparing for training. I kept my head down as I made my way to the kitchen, focused on one thing—getting through the day unnoticed.
But the moment I stepped into the dining hall, I felt it.
Their eyes.
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to keep moving, pretending I didn’t see the way Dorian, Evander, and Rowan were already sitting at the long wooden table, their gazes locked onto me the second I entered.
They were never here this early.
Ever.
I swallowed hard, forcing my feet to keep moving as I grabbed a basket of bread from the counter. I’d just serve breakfast like always, avoid eye contact, and—
A body stepped in front of me.
Evander.
I jolted back before I could stop myself, my hands tightening around the basket.
He tilted his head, watching me with those golden-brown eyes that always seemed to see too much. “Careful, little rogue. Jumping like that makes it look like you have something to hide.”
I stiffened. “I don’t.”
"Is that so?" His voice was smooth, almost lazy, but something sharp lurked beneath the surface.
I tried to sidestep him, but another body blocked my path.
Rowan.
I clenched my jaw. Of course.
His hazel eyes flickered with something I couldn’t name. He was usually the softest of the three, the one who laughed easily, who didn’t push quite as hard.
But today… he just stood there. Close. Watching.
"You didn’t eat last night." His voice was quieter than Evander’s, almost contemplative.
I stiffened. "I wasn’t hungry."
A lie.
They knew it.
And yet Rowan just hummed, his gaze dipping to the basket in my hands. "Eat now."
I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
Dorian, who had been silent until now, let out a quiet chuckle from behind me. "Eat," he repeated, his voice low and smooth, edged with something I didn’t trust. "Or do you want us to feed you?"
Heat prickled across my skin.
I hated the way my body reacted to his voice—to all of them.
I hated that I could still feel the warmth of Dorian’s fingers on my wrist from last night, the way Evander’s gaze made my stomach tighten, the way Rowan’s sudden quiet intensity set my wolf on edge.
I hated that a part of me wanted to listen.
I forced myself to glare up at them, my voice flat. "I don’t need anything from you."
Dorian’s smirk widened, but there was something in his eyes. Something unreadable. "Suit yourself, little rogue."
I turned sharply, pushing past them before they could say anything else.
But I felt them watching me the entire time.
And I knew—this was different.
***
The triplets didn’t let up.
All morning, they were there.
Watching.
Lurking.
Interfering.
Whenever I tried to scrub the floors, Evander would stroll through the hallway, tracking mud across the spots I’d just cleaned—forcing me to start over.
Whenever I carried dishes, Rowan would pass too close, brushing against me just enough to make me lose balance—just enough that I had to grab onto him to steady myself.
And whenever I tried to vanish into the background like I always did, Dorian would be there, leaning against a doorway, watching me with a smirk that sent unwelcome heat curling in my stomach.
They weren’t laughing at me today.
They weren’t throwing cruel insults.
But somehow, this was worse.
What the hell was happening?