The Triplet Alphas' Secret Mate

Chapter 18: In His Room

Scarlett’s POV

​The clock on the wall ticked with a heavy, rhythmic thud that sounded like a countdown. 9:00 PM. In three hours, I would turn twenty. I would either feel the soul-shattering snap of my first shift or remain a wolf-less human, destined to be an even lower target for this pack.

​But I wouldn’t be here to find out. By tomorrow morning, I would be crossing the border.

​I stood before Leon’s door, my hand hovering over the handle. My heart felt like a trapped bird. I didn’t want to be here, but some twisted part of me needed this. I needed one last look at him—not as my tormentor, but as the boy I had once loved. I wanted to use this night as a silent goodbye, a secret funeral for the frienship bond we had broken.

​I knocked.

​"Come in," his voice rasped. It sounded shredded, deeper than usual.

​I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dim, lit only by a few flickering candles that cast long, dancing shadows against the stone walls. The scent of burnt wood and musk was suffocatingly thick, laced with the sharp, acidic tang of expensive bourbon.

​Leon was sitting in a high-backed leather chair, a glass gripped in his hand. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, his bronzed chest scarred and powerful in the low light. But it was his face that stopped me. He looked pale, his brown eyes bloodshot and haunted.

​The memorial. Every year, the weight of their mother’s death seemed to crush the triplets, turning their grief into a sharp, lashing rage. Tonight, that rage looked like exhaustion.

​"I’m here..." I whispered, staying near the door, my fingers twisting the hem of my tunic.

he set the bourbon down on the side table with a heavy clink and stood up.

he murmured, stopping just inches from me. The heat radiating off his body was intense, clashing with the chill of the room. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. His

couldn’t bear to look into

under my chin and forced my head up. His gaze searched mine, his nostrils flaring as he scented the air. "You’ve been crying again. Still thinking about those graves in the

hard, the secret burning in my

date," I whispered. "Tomorrow is a hard

could smell the bourbon on his

here for the

looked so broken that for a moment, I forgot to be afraid. I forgot that he

can’t stay here, Leon. What if your brothers come in?" I whispered. My voice was

like he had a fever. I could feel his heart beating fast against my chest. He buried his face in my neck and took a deep breath, like he was trying

"The house is too quiet. The ghosts are

his mother. Tomorrow was the anniversary of her death. It was the day my parents were executed. This date was a

back just enough to look at me. His brown eyes were dark and messy

looked at his lips, then back at his eyes. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to scream that his fathers were kicking me out at midnight. But I stayed silent. If I

his shoulders. My skin felt like it

on the wall