Happy Birthday

Zander’s massive hands clamp down on my shoulders, his grip like dual iron vices biting into my skin. Before I can even process the sudden explosion of movement, he is violently spinning me around, his sheer, overwhelming physical strength easily overpowering my smaller frame. He shoves me backward, pinning my back forcefully against the expensive, heavily textured wallpaper of Corbin’s bedroom. The impact knocks the breath right out of my lungs in a sharp, involuntary gasp.

I look up, my heart hammering a frantic, terrifying rhythm against my ribs, and realize with a jolt of pure adrenaline that the boy standing in front of me is completely gone. His eyes have completely shifted. There is no trace of the human iris left; instead, they have bled entirely into the feral, glowing gold of his inner wolf. His chest heaves against mine, radiating a suffocating, furnace-like heat that practically scorches through the thin fabric of my borrowed dress. Driven completely by untamed, primal instinct and the heavy, intoxicating scent of my own surging arousal, Zander leans in aggressively. His jaw parts wide, the sharp points of his fully extended canines gleaming under the ambient bedroom lights. He goes straight for the sensitive flesh of my neck, fully intending to violently mark me right then and there, claiming me in the most visceral, permanent way a wolf can.

Before sheer panic can fully paralyze my limbs, a blur of motion violently intercepts him.

Kellan and Corbin lunge forward from across the room, moving with terrifying, blinding speed. Their massive hands lock onto Zander’s broad shoulders and waist, violently yanking their brother off me with a sickening thud of colliding bodies. They hurl him backward, slamming him against the opposite wall to put physical distance between him and my trembling body.

Kellan’s massive chest heaves, his muscles straining against the tailored fabric of his suit. He squares his shoulders, and when he opens his mouth, his true Alpha voice shakes the very foundation of the room.

"Stand down!" Kellan roars, the command so heavily laced with pure, dominant power that the invisible shockwave vibrates directly into my bones, rattling my teeth and forcing the air from the room. He commands Zander to immediately calm his raging wolf and heel.

The sheer force of the Alpha command hits Zander like a physical blow. He stumbles back, his broad shoulders hitting the wall as he pants heavily, his chest violently rising and falling. He blinks rapidly, shaking his head as if trying to physically dislodge the feral instincts consuming him, until his glowing golden eyes finally begin to shift back, slowly melting into their familiar, human, baby-blue hue.

"I’m so sorry, Baby," Zander gasps out, his voice a ragged, desperate rasp. He drags a visibly shaking hand through his thick hair, his chest still heaving as he looks at me. He looks entirely, profoundly horrified by his own complete loss of control. He looks at his own hands as if they belong to a monster.

I lean heavily against the wall, my knees shaking so badly I can barely keep myself upright. My heart is still hammering frantically against my ribs, echoing in my ears. I stare at Zander, taking in his absolute devastation, and a sudden, bizarre sense of detachment washes over me. A breathless, half-hearted laugh escapes my lips, the sound brittle and hollow in the heavy silence of the bedroom.

"Honestly," I admit, the dark humor slipping out of me before I can stop it, "that wasn't even in the top ten worst things you’ve ever done to me."

My feeble joke lands like a live grenade. The Triplets instantly freeze. Their expressions, already tight with tension, instantly contort into matching masks of profound horror and crushing guilt. The brutal reminder of their past cruelty—the years of torment, the physical shoving, the verbal abuse, the complete destruction of my childhood—hits them all at once. The silence that follows is absolutely deafening. The air in the room feels impossibly thick, suffocating in its intensity.

Finally, Corbin steps forward. His massive frame seems to shrink as he closes the distance between us, his movements slow and deliberate, terrified of spooking me. His voice is incredibly soft, tentative, and utterly devoid of his usual arrogance as he looks down at me and asks exactly where we stand. After Zander had completely ruined the scrap of a chance they had left by attacking me against the wall, he wants to know what I have to say.

I look up at the three towering, incredibly handsome men surrounding me. I have seven months left of high school. I am still harboring a deep, simmering rage for everything they have put me through, yet my body is betraying me at every turn. Rejecting them outright would mean immediate homelessness, but accepting them feels like a monumental betrayal to the abused little girl I used to be.

I answer with brutal honesty, "I don’t know what I want."

Without a single second of hesitation, they simultaneously leap on my words. Corbin eagerly promises that it is completely fine. Kellan firmly tells me to take my time. Zander, who had just tried to sink his teeth into my neck, desperately adds that they will give me all the time and space I could ever possibly need. They are practically groveling, entirely willing to wait forever, even though my own traitorous inner wolf is already pacing fiercely in my mind, desperately craving their physical touch and the intoxicating blend of their scents.

Suddenly, the heavy, oppressive mood breaks. The tension evaporates as the three towering men practically vibrate with boyish excitement, their faces lighting up as they chorus in perfect unison, "Happy birthday, Amity!"

Before I can even process the sudden shift in tone, they move toward the corners of the massive bedroom and begin dragging out towering piles of extravagantly wrapped gifts. There are massive boxes wrapped in glittering gold foil, sleek velvet bags tied with thick silk ribbons, and designer shopping bags overflowing with tissue paper. They just keep pulling them out from under Corbin’s bed, piling them up until there is a literal mountain of wealth sitting in the middle of the expensive carpet.

A hot, suffocating wave of deep shame washes over my face, burning my cheeks. I stare at the mountain of presents, acutely aware of my own pathetic reality. I am completely destitute. I am standing in their luxurious room wearing a borrowed dress that doesn't even belong to me, and I possess absolutely no money to buy them anything in return for their own monumental twenty-first birthday.

I bite my lip, staring at the floor, and whisper my sincere apology, the shame twisting my stomach into tight knots.

Zander is in front of me in an instant. He easily and smoothly brushes my shame aside, letting out a warm, genuine laugh that rumbles deep in his chest. He insists, his voice entirely devoid of pity, that they already know I have no money, and that simply having me here with them is the absolute only gift they require.

I mutter under my breath that they never let me forget how poor I am, a defensive wall automatically going up. The three brothers frown, immediately looking contrite, but they quickly pivot, excitedly prompting me to start tearing into the wrapping paper.

I am entirely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of presents. I haven't received a single gift in nine years, and now these three massive Alphas have seemingly bought out the entire luxury mall for me. The pressure of them watching me, expecting a reaction for every single box, feels suffocating. I look at their eager faces and shyly ask if I can just gather everything and open them later in the quiet safety of my own room, when I have time to actually process everything that is happening.

Kellan immediately interrupts Corbin's whining protests, stating firmly that it isn't about what they want, but what makes me comfortable.

I step forward shyly to thank them. We have never physically hugged before, not once in our entire lives. Zander is the first to move. He snatches me up instantly, wrapping his massive, heavily muscled arms around my body and squeezing me so tightly my feet completely leave the carpet. I let out an involuntary giggle at the sheer brute force of his affection before he sets me back down. Next, Corbin bends his tall frame down, wrapping me in an incredibly gentle, lingering embrace that smells heavily of rich chocolate and masculine warmth. Finally, Kellan steps up. He places his large hands firmly on my waist, effortlessly lifting me straight up into the air and spinning me around like a cherished princess before gently setting my feet back on the floor.

I gather an armful of the sleek gift bags, preparing to make the trek back to my tiny closet of a room, when Kellan abruptly stiffens.

His broad shoulders lock, and his Alpha tone instantly returns, filling the room with absolute authority. He fiercely insists that I cannot go back to that tiny room. He firmly declares that they are going to physically move my belongings out of my degrading servant's space and into a massive, proper guest bedroom down the hall immediately.

A sudden, blinding flare of long-suppressed anger erupts in the very center of my chest. The audacity. The sheer, unadulterated hypocrisy of his demand.

"So this room isn’t good enough for me now," I snap loudly, my voice cracking with nine agonizing years of resentment, "but it was perfectly good enough when you didn’t give a s**t about me!"

The words echo in the room, harsh and ugly. I instantly tense, bracing myself for the explosive argument that is surely about to follow. I expect them to yell, to put me back in my place like they always have.

Instead of arguing, Kellan's broad shoulders completely drop. All the Alpha authority drains out of his posture. He looks at me with an expression of deep, soul-crushing remorse. He calmly and firmly agrees with me, his voice heavy with self-disgust, stating that it was an absolute disgrace how his parents had allowed me to be treated under their roof, and an even bigger disgrace that he had allowed it to happen.

There is no more argument. The heavy, lingering guilt hangs in the air as we are eventually forced to abandon the bedroom and return downstairs to the raging party waiting below. The Pack members have been waiting impatiently for the birthday boys to make their grand appearance.

The descent down the grand staircase is agonizing. The moment my foot hits the bottom step, Luna Vera materializes from the bustling crowd. Her expensive gown glitters under the chandeliers, but her eyes narrow with sheer, unadulterated disdain the absolute second they lock onto my face. She seems deeply shocked to see me walking down the main stairs alongside her prized sons, but she doesn't miss a beat. She immediately barks an order, demanding I grab a tray and start doing another lap to serve champagne to the wealthy guests.

Darla, the incredibly nosy party planner, steps out from behind the Luna with a smug, deeply satisfying smirk on her face. She shoves a heavy silver tray loaded with crystal glasses directly toward my chest.

Before I can even reach out to take it, Kellan steps directly in front of me, completely shielding my body with his massive frame. He violently snatches the heavy silver tray right out of Darla's hands. Without breaking eye contact with his mother, he callously drops it directly onto the hard marble floor.

The loud clatter of heavy silver and shattering crystal violently cuts through the ambient noise of the party. The crowd instantly parts, heads turning in shock at the mess. Luna Vera gasps, scandalized, but before she can tear into Kellan, Alpha Ragnar’s booming voice commands the room’s attention.

Alpha Ragnar takes the grand stage positioned a few steps up the staircase for his grand speech, preparing to officially pass the Alpha title to the Triplet Alphas. The entire pack gathers around, their cheers deafening.

For twenty agonizing minutes, Ragnar stands before the massive crowd and details every single accomplishment of his sons' entire lives. He talks about their births, their childhoods, their rigorous combat training, their first shifts, and their ascension into true manhood. For twenty minutes, I am forced to stand there and listen as he completely and deliberately ignores my nine years of tortured existence under his roof. He speaks of the Draken legacy of love and family, entirely erasing the fact that I have spent nearly a decade scrubbing their floors and living in a freezing, cramped closet directly beneath their feet.

I feel incredibly exposed. I try to physically shrink into the shadows, attempting to slip down a few steps and blend into the background where a servant belongs. But the Triplets absolutely refuse to let me hide in the background like a dirty secret. They physically grab my hands, their grips uncompromising, and forcefully pull me right back up onto the highly visible steps directly beside them.

While the entire pack stares, wondering why the servant girl is standing in the limelight with the new Alphas, Zander takes a step closer to my side. Out of nowhere, his massive hand drops completely out of the crowd's line of sight, slipping behind my back. He brazenly and possessively grabs the curve of my behind. His thick fingers firmly cup my ass cheek through the thin fabric of my borrowed dress, squeezing the soft flesh with a dominant, unapologetic pressure. He strokes the curve of my ass, his thumb pressing deeply into the cleft, radiating a searing heat that sends a violent jolt of electricity straight to my core. I suppress a sharp gasp as a sudden, heavy wave of wetness floods my panties at the sheer audacity of his public grope.

I whip my head around, glaring at him furiously for touching my body so intimately while hundreds of people are standing just feet away. Zander simply catches my eye, a wicked, entirely unapologetic smirk spreading across his handsome face, and blatantly blows me a kiss.

My cheeks instantly burn furiously with a chaotic mixture of intense heat, arousal, and sheer shock. Several pack members in the front row catch the blown kiss, their eyes widening in absolute disbelief.

Unable to take the rising confusion, the glaring stares from the pack members, and the blatant disrespect from her sons anymore, Luna Vera reaches her breaking point. She marches over to the stairs, her face tight with absolute fury. She aggressively drags her three massive sons, Alpha Ragnar, and me entirely away from the crowd and shoves us through the swinging doors into the massive industrial kitchen.

Darla, the incredibly nosy party planner, immediately follows closely behind, desperate for the gossip.

The swinging doors shut, sealing us in the cold, stainless-steel environment of the pack kitchen. Luna Vera whirls around, her voice incredibly shrill as she demands to know why her sons are suddenly acting so closely and inappropriately with the servant she still cruelly refers to as "Pity."

Kellan does not hesitate for a single second. He steps forward, his massive chest expanding as he stares his furious mother down.

"She’s our mate," Kellan declares, his deep Alpha voice echoing sharply off the stainless steel appliances.

The massive kitchen goes completely, utterly dead silent. The revelation hangs in the air, heavy and explosive. Alpha Ragnar looks stunned, while Luna Vera looks like she has just been physically slapped across the face.

Stepping out from the protective shadow of Kellan's broad back, I force myself to speak. My voice is shaking, but I firmly add that I intend to finish my senior year of high school while I take my time to actually think about whether I will accept their claim or reject them entirely.

Luna Vera’s shock instantly morphs into venom. She laughs—a bitter, cruel, mocking sound that scrapes against my ears. She points an accusatory finger directly at me, loudly accusing me of planning to leech off their immense wealth, live in luxury, and deliberately use her sons until graduation before callously running away to find my real parents.

Before I can even defend myself against the vile accusation, Corbin steps forward. His chest is puffed out, his jaw locked in fierce, unyielding anger. He fiercely defends me, his voice booming through the kitchen as he completely puts his mother directly in her place. He loudly reminds her of the atrocious, deeply neglectful conditions I have been forced to live in, the lack of proper heating, the starvation, and the absolute cruelty of her reign over my life. He outright shames the Luna of the pack, tearing down her accusations and demanding respect for his mate.

Seeing the Luna losing control of the situation, Darla attempts a petty, desperate intervention. She steps forward, her eyes gleaming with malicious envy, and warns the boys that I had previously confided in her just yesterday. She venomously spits out that I think they are all just arrogant, overrated snobs who don't deserve anything.

I pale, a spike of genuine fear hitting my chest. I look up at the Triplets, half-expecting them to turn their anger on me for the insult. But the Triplets completely ignore Darla’s venomous words. They don't even glance in the party planner's direction. Their eyes remain locked solely on me, practically glowing with possessive adoration.

Alpha Ragnar finally sighs, stating that his sons are old enough to decide their own fates, completely dismissing his wife's hysterical protests.

Without giving the Luna or Darla another second of their time, the Triplets physically drag me back out through the swinging doors and straight into the main hall to cut the massive, multi-tiered birthday cake.

The crowd cheers as Darla furiously wheels the extravagant cake out. The pack photographer and the wealthy guests immediately swarm the area. The photographer waves his hands frantically, clearly wanting pristine, perfect pictures of just the three identical, handsome Alpha birthday boys. They want the poor servant girl out of the frame.

But the Triplets outright refuse to let me go.

As the cameras flash blindly, filling the grand hall with bursting white light, Corbin and Kellan step close to my sides. They firmly grip my wrists, anchoring me in place between them so I cannot possibly shrink away from the lenses. Corbin's large fingers wrap entirely around my left wrist, his thumb pressing directly over my rapidly beating pulse. Kellan matches his grip on my right.

Simultaneously, Zander steps up directly behind me. He wraps his incredibly thick, muscular arms entirely around me, tightly squeezing my waist from behind. His massive chest presses flush against my back, caging me in completely.

It is the very first time all three of these massive, terrifying men have their hands physically on my body all at once.

I am completely paralyzed. I feel utterly, breathlessly overwhelmed by their combined body heat seeping into my skin and the absolute, possessive strength radiating from their heavy grips. Surrounded by the scent of rich chocolate, strong coffee, and sweet coconut, my mind begins frantically, desperately wondering what I would possibly do when they truly, intimately got their massive hands on me behind closed doors.

Standing there in the blinding flash of the cameras, securely locked in the physical cage of their heavy bodies, I naively tell myself that I don't have to worry about that anytime soon. I tell myself I have time to figure out my next move.

But looking back, as the camera flashes blind me to the reality of the situation, I realize I should have worried much more. I should have been terrified. Because while I was standing there convincing myself I was safe, all three brothers were already actively, relentlessly plotting to sneak me into one of their massive beds that very night.