A smell hit me like a truck going full speed. Pine trees and winter storms. Leather and something wild and scary and completely overwhelming. It made my wolf go totally crazy inside my head, scratching and clawing to get out. My knees went weak. The cleaning materials fell from my hands, clattering to the floor like my world was falling apart.

"Do you smell that?" a deep voice asked. The voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Honey and wildflowers," another voice answered, rougher than the first. "Like summer and sunshine. Where is it coming from?"

A third voice, softer but just as strong, said, "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever smelled."

But that was impossible. I was just an omega. Just unseen Aisla who cleaned floors and stayed out of sight and never caused trouble for anyone important.

The footsteps got closer. I could hear them breathe now.

My wolf was going crazy inside me. She wanted out. She wanted to run toward that smell, not away from it. She wanted something I didn't understand.

"There," the third voice said, softer than the others but somehow more dangerous. "In the kitchen. She's in there."

The footsteps stopped right outside the door. I could feel them there, waiting.

Deep down, I knew my life was about to change forever.

I could swear I heard three wolves roaring inside my head.

The kitchen door handle turned slowly.

I was about to meet my fate.

Or my doom.


~

I had spent my entire life in the shadows. As a lowly omega, I was used to being overlooked, ignored, and unseen. 

But everything changed on my 18th birthday.

That was the day the Moon Goddess gave me a cruel kind of blessing. 

I had a mate. 

Not just one. 

Not two. 

But all three of the Alpha’s sons, the legendary triplets were bound to me.

The hunters were loud tonight. They always were after their leader spoke of conquest. They sharpened their blades with too much force, laughed too hard at their crude jokes, and raised their mugs in toast of a victory they had not yet earned. 


Wolves lingered at the edges of the fire, listening with suspicion with their tails low and eyes darting to me when they thought I was not looking.


I sat away from both camps with my fire pale silver instead of orange and wove threads through the smoke. My fingers moved with quiet precision as I tugged at invisible strands. With each pull, the girl stirred in her sleep. Her dreams were open ground, fertile soil for the poison I fed her.


Aisla flinched in her cot miles away. I felt it ripple through the threads like a shiver. My lips curved.


Do you see them, child? Do you see your wolves bleed?


Chapter 79 - Splintered Threads