LAYLA'S POV
The night of the Mating Ball is like any other night of servitude for me. As an omega, I have no right to attend such an event as a guest. I belong in the shadows, tending to the needs of others.
"Allora, please," I whisper, gripping the fabric of my dress.
It's a plain thing, nothing like the extravagant gown she wears. I shouldn't even be here.
"Enough," she snaps as she adjusts the delicate silver comb in her hair. "You will attend, Layla. But only as my shadow. I can't have you lurking in the servant's quarters like a lost pup. Someone might assume I'm mistreating you." She smirks. I can see the mischief in her eyes "And I'm sure you'll meet your mate tonight. Wouldn't that be something? An omega mated to a warrior, perhaps?" She laughs.
"Or.." she trails "You might be mated to a servant like yourself. It'll be a match made in the heavens"
She laughs like she just said the funniest thing in the world. I don't respond. I wouldn't dare.
When we arrive at Silverfang Keep, the sight steals my breath. I have lived in the packhouse my entire life, but I've never been permitted inside the grand ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, highlighting the marble floors. The music is playing from a live orchestra. The people in attendance are elites. They're all dressed in their finest dresses, shimmering jewelries and tuxedos. The sight of it all is breath taking. For a moment, I allow myself to imagine what it would be like to belong here.
Allora glances at me with a bored expression. "Make yourself invisible. But stay close." And with that, she drifts into the sea of nobles, flashing smiles and flipping her golden hair as she dances among them.
I take the opportunity to slip away. My heart hammers in my chest. Something is pulling me forward, guiding me past the pillars and into the silent corridors beyond the ballroom.
My wolf stirs, restless. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I know I must find it.
Then, I crash into something solid.
The impact knocks the breath from my lungs.
I stumble back and my hands instinctively reaches out to steady myself. That's when I see him.
A man stands before me, dressed in black. His silver eyes glint under the dim light in the corridor. His aura is suffocating, powerful, and unmistakably Alpha. My breath catches in my throat, and my knees tremble as my wolf lets out a desperate whimper.
I don't know who he is, but I am drawn to him like the tide to the moon.
All of a sudden, a force unlike anything I have ever known slams into me, knocking the breath from my lungs. My knees nearly buckle.
The man in front of me is devastatingly gorgeous. His silver eyes are the most beautiful things I have ever seen. His stare pins me in place as if he owns me—owns my very soul. His chiseled jaw is sharp enough to cut and his raven-black hair is tousled in a way that looks effortlessly perfect.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The air between us pulses, charged with something I can't understand Then, his expression hardens. Before I can react, he reaches out and grips my wrist. The touch sends a jolt of energy through me. It sends an electric shock straight to my soul.
His voice is low and lethal. "Who are you?"
"I-I'm Layla," I stammer. My heart is pounding wildly.
Am I in trouble? Maybe I shouldn't have wandered too far away. I was just curious.
He doesn't let go. Instead, his fingers tighten around my wrist, and a growl rumbles deep within his chest. My wolf practically melts under the sound, but I still feel scared. There is something raw in his gaze, something dangerous.
Then, without warning, he turns sharply and drags me back toward the ballroom. I start to panic.
"Wait! What are you doing?" I try to resist, but he is too strong.
The grand doors burst open, and all eyes snap toward us. Everyone gasps as he pulls me to the center of the room.
The music stops. The whispers begin.
I don't have time to process any of it before his voice echoes through the silence.
"This girl is our mate."
The words slam into me with the force of a hurricane. My body locks up and my mind struggles to keep up. Our mate? He said 'our.' What does that mean?
The shock in the room is obvious. My own heart stutters in my chest. My entire life, I have been nothing more than a servant, an omega at the bottom of the pack. Yet, the bond is undeniable. I can feel it, like fire in my veins, pulling me toward him.
Then, I notice them.
Two more men step forward from the crowd. Their faces are identical to his. They all have the same commanding presence.
That's when it dawns on me.
Triplets.
A cold shiver races down my spine as the realization hits me. My connection isn't just with one of them—it's with all three.
My stomach twists. This is impossible.
Allora's horrified expression catches my eye. Her lips part as if to speak, but she is too stunned to utter a single word. I want to deny it. I want to run. But my body refuses to move. The bond anchors me in place.
When I look at the other boys, I feel it—the same electrifying pull.
The one gripping my wrist growls lowly, possessively
The one to his right has slightly longer hair, tied back at the nape of his neck. He has blue eyes that remind me of the ocean.
The other brother, standing to the left, has a colder expression, but the intensity in his gray eyes is no less intense. His suit is immaculate, not a wrinkle in sight, and he radiates control, dominance. His muscles flex beneath the fabric, and his jaw tightens as if he's barely restraining himself from lunging forward.
They are perfect. Savage and beautiful. They are dark and magnetic.
My heart slams against my ribs. My lungs squeeze for air, but I can't look away.
I feel them.
I feel them in every cell of my body. In every desperate, longing cry of my wolf, who is practically on her knees, whimpering for them.
This connection is undeniable.
No. This isn't possible.
I am an omega. The lowest rank in the pack. The invisible servant meant to live in the shadows. And they... they are pure power. Alphas.
But the way they look at me tells me there is no mistake. No escaping this.
The three brothers stare at me with so much intensity that makes me weak.
Fate has made its choice.
But is it a blessing?
Or a curse?