The look in her eyes haunted all three of them.
That quiet, aching pain like something broken beyond repair, still flickered behind her lashes, even now. She swore she was innocent. Swore she hadn't hurt Lucia. But Lucia's blistered skin, the smell of burned flesh that still lingered in the hallways—that wasn't a lie.
Maybe Blue did it out of misery. Maybe it was rage. Or maybe it was just the last broken piece of a woman they once thought would carry their future. The only reason she was still breathing was the mate bond—and the bitter truth that they still needed an heir.
Draven had nearly lost control the other night. When she'd provoked his beast, he'd snapped. None of them spoke of it, but they'd all seen how pale she'd gone, how the rain had soaked through her fevered skin. Even Dasia, who never dared meddle, had sent word to them in concern. But none of them came. Not one. Because weakness had no place in their world.
Not even for her.
The triplets carried the frost heart in their veins now, and yet... the bond still lived. Quiet. Constant. Unforgiving. Her scent still riled their beasts. And though they hated her, though they resented every breath she took, that hunger gnawed at them, twisted into their bones like something they couldn't dig out.
They acted like they didn't care. Maybe they didn't. But the mate bond called to her—and it called to them too. The pain of what she'd done had sunk deep, wrapping around their hearts like thorns. She had betrayed them. Betrayed the bond. Tried to murder them.
She was supposed to love them. Instead, she and her people had burned every ounce of warmth they once held. For that, she would suffer.
The moment they'd barged into her room and seen her—really seen her—the memory hadn't let go of them since.
Her body.
Those perfect breasts that even now made something shift inside them.
They hated that she was beautiful. Would never admit it. But she had the kind of body that haunted dreams. And once upon a time, it had.
Back before the war, they used to sit together and talk about her—Blue Sara. What she might look like. What it would feel like to have her wrapped in their arms. Blonde, soft, delicate. Everything the rumors had promised.
But everything had changed. They loathed her now more than they'd ever loved her. And to drown the burn she sparked in their bodies, they took their pleasure elsewhere—with Lucia.
Lucia, who was half-human, half-lycan. The cook's daughter, raised in Winters Keep alongside them. When she turned eighteen, she became their mistress. A poor substitute for the woman they'd once longed for, but her resemblance to Blue—blonde, petite—was enough to fill a void.
For a while.
---
"Do you think she can even pull this off?" Laziel's voice cut through the silence. They stood at the edge of the trees, watching her.
Blue was struggling to drag a water bucket toward the horses, her movements slow, body trembling from exhaustion.
"She should've thought about that before attacking Lucia," Draven said, voice cold, though his eyes never left her.
Kael scoffed, twirling his favorite dagger between his fingers as he sat perched on a rock. "Pretentious little blonde wench. Looks all innocent but... tsk."
Blue winced as the bucket finally landed near the first horse. Her hands were raw and bleeding, but she didn't stop. Draven had ordered no one was to help her—and no food for the day. It was showing in her frame. Her movements were weak, unsteady. But she pushed through anyway.
Dasia stood off to the side, arms crossed. Even she looked torn. There was pity in her eyes now, something she hadn't let herself feel since Blue first arrived.
There were five horses. She hadn't even finished one.
The animals wouldn't take to her. One had already kicked her to the ground. She'd cried out in pain, eyes filling—but still she'd gotten up. Still, she tried.
This was her life now. And she wasn't going to beg.
When the brothers left to finish their duties, Laziel lingered. He watched as she moved to the third horse, her breath ragged, her arm shaking with each stroke of the brush.
Something in his jaw tightened. He didn't want to feel anything—but damn her, he did.
He stalked toward her.
"How are we supposed to leave in time when you're still here fumbling to clean five damn horses?" he snapped, his tone biting.
She didn't answer, eyes focused on the horse. Her lips were pale. Cracked.
He sneered. "I guess your rich father never taught you the basics of survival. Pathetic."
Blue stayed silent, swallowing down his words like poison. She'd heard worse. Would probably hear worse still.
He leaned in, eyes glinting with venom.
"Are you so jealous of Lucia that you attacked her? Is that it?" His voice dropped lower, cruel. "You want to be in her place, don't you? You want to know what it feels like to have us inside you—stretching you wide—making you cum until your throat's raw from screaming our names. Isn't that what you want?"
Her hand trembled on the brush.
Those words—filthy and cruel—made her stomach twist, but her body responded despite her. She hated it. Hated the way he made her feel things when she should've felt nothing. Hated that another woman was experiencing what should have been hers. She was their mate, damn it. No matter how broken things were.
"Haven't you done enough?" she finally said, turning to face him. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the hurt in her eyes slammed into him like a blade.
"I didn't burn her. And you know it. The same way you know I didn't kill your brother."
He snapped.
Faster than she could move, his hand wrapped around her throat and shoved her back against the wet side of the horse. She gasped, clawing at his grip as her back scraped the damp wood.
"Don't you *ever* say his name," Laziel growled, his beast rising behind his eyes.
He threw her like she weighed nothing. She hit the ground with a bone-jarring crack. Her ankle twisted at an odd angle. She whimpered, clutching it, her face twisted in pain.
But he didn't care.
He stormed toward her, hand shaking with fury, his power crackling just beneath the surface—caught somewhere between his lycan blood and the icy frost heart that pulsed in his veins.
"You'll pay for everything," he said through gritted teeth. "Everything you've done."
And then he turned and walked away without another word.
Blue stared after him, chest heaving, tears burning her throat. How could they hate her this much?
---
By the time the horn went off, she had finished her punishment. Somehow.
She was still soaked, mud streaking her dress and arms, her ankle swelling beneath her. She looked like hell—and not a single soul gave her a second glance.
Over the past few days, Dasia had taught her to ride.
Today, she'd have to prove she could.
She limped toward her assigned horse. As she placed her foot in the stirrup, she caught sight of Draven. Lucia stood in his arms, his mouth devouring hers in front of everyone like it was the most normal thing in the world.
She whispered something to him, raising her bruised hand—and then both their eyes flicked toward Blue.
Fury lit his features. He pulled away, mounted his horse, and reached for Lucia's waist.
She'd be riding with him. In his arms.
It burned.
Blue looked away, swallowing the ache, but the mate bond tightened like a noose around her chest. Their constant cruelty had left her wolf withered and quiet. She was dying slowly from the inside—and they didn't care.
Two of the three had tried to choke her to death in just a matter of weeks.
She couldn't survive this much longer.
Something had to change.
And tonight, she'd make sure it did.
She had a plan.
And she was done waiting.