Cold silence spread throughout the mansion. Panic and worry engulfed the eyes of the maids and guards, this was all far too crazy to digest, to think that it all happened just like that in a single snap of the finger, Maya had lost her boys.No! They weren’t lost, they were stolen from her.A familiar silent footstep carefully approaches her from behind as she sobs on the floor.“Madam,” Mrs. Page called harshly as if intending to snap her off her daydreaming; she certainly was not giving a damn about reading the room. All heads turn, and a small gasp escapes the lips of the concerned maids, but Maya remains unchanged. Her head lowered with Rose wrapped tightly in her arms as though she had gone mad. If someone were to tell her that she would be in a worse fate than she was years ago, she’d laugh it off, but now here she was, weeping for her children.Of course, Mrs Page did not take it too well that she was being ignored.“Would everyone stop staring like you had just watched an op
The abandoned warehouse looms against the stormy sky, its rusted metal walls groaning under the increasing wind. Jackson stands at the entrance, his expensive suit a stark contrast to the decrepit surroundings. Behind him, Marcus shifts nervously."Sir, this could be a trap," Marcus whispers, his hand resting on his concealed weapon.Jackson's face remains impassive, though his nostrils flare slightly as he scents the air. "Twenty-three wolves inside. Heavily armed." His voice is cold and calculated. "Keep the perimeter secured."Inside, the warehouse is a maze of shadows and rusted machinery. Water drips somewhere in the darkness, creating an irregular rhythm that sets Jackson's teeth on edge. Industrial lights flicker overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow that does little to dispel the gloom.The rouge alpha's pack members line the catwalks above, their faces hidden behind identical black masks. They're positioned strategically, hands resting on visible weapons. A show of forc
Chapter: RunJackson moves quickly, pulling on his clothes and grabbing his coat. His mind races with possibilities, none of them good. His grandmother has always been ruthlessly traditional, obsessed with maintaining the purity of the carter bloodline. The boys - his sons - would be seen as both a threat and an opportunity in her eyes.Bursting through the hotel's exit doors, Jackson finds Marcus already waiting with the car."Sir, the airport-" David begins."Check the weather reports," Jackson snaps, already sliding into the back seat.Marcus' face is grim as he consults his tablet. "All flights are grounded, sir. The storm system is moving back in. They're saying it could be hours before-"Jackson doesn't wait to hear the rest. He's already out of the car, striding toward the tree line that borders the hotel property. His wolf is clawing at the surface, demanding release."Sir?" His beta calls after him. "What should I tell-""Handle it," Jackson growls, his voice already deep
Maya's consciousness returns slowly, like wading through thick molasses. Her head pounds with a dull, insistent ache that makes even the soft morning light filtering through her curtains feel like needles in her eyes. She groans, trying to piece together fragments of memory through the fog of sedation.Then it hits her - flashes of desperate screaming, of fighting against strong hands holding her back, of threatening to throw herself from windows if they didn't let her find her sons. The memories crash over her like ice water.Flashback"Let me out!" Maya's voice is hoarse from hours of screaming, her fists pounding against the locked door until her knuckles bleed. "I'll kill myself if you don't let me find them! Do you hear me?"Mrs. Henderson's voice comes through the wood, trembling but firm. "Please, Miss Maya, think of Miss Rose. She needs her mother.""Then let me go!" Maya turns, wild-eyed, scanning the room for options. The window catches her attention - three stories up
Suddenly, jacksons brow furrows as his phone rings, looking away from the woman to pull out the device and pick up the call.Maya barely hears him. Her mind is still trapped in the echo of the grandmother’s words, malicious glee laced into every syllable, wrapping around her like thorns. Jackson killed them….Jackson murdered four women in his life.What did that mean for maya?What did that mean for the children? God…. Her children. Her babies. Her breath shudders out, unsteady, and for a moment, the world around her fades—too sharp and too dull at the same time. The warmth of the room bleeds into a suffocating chill, the air thick with something unseen but heavy, like storm clouds before a downpour. Somewhere on the edge of her spiraling mind, Jackson's voice cuts through the haze. "I was right," he says into the phone, his tone unreadable, the low timbre vibrating against the silence in the room. “They had them.” Maya blinks, barely processing the words. Then, reali
Maya had stopped struggling against Jackson's grip long ago, resigning herself to the humiliation of being slung over his broad shoulder like a sack of rice. The rhythmic sway of his strides does nothing to ease her seething anger. Her arms are tightly crossed, her nails digging into her skin as she glared daggers at the back of his head. She’d already tried pounding against his back, wiggling like a fish out of water, and even whispering threats in his ear—all to no avail. The man was a walking fortress, unshaken by her tantrum. Her blood boils as they near the sleek black car waiting for them. The moment he sets her down on the pavement, she wrenches herself from his hold, her feet hitting the ground with force. Maya huffs in exasperation, flipping her messy hair over her shoulder as she shoots him a look of pure venom. “You are insufferable,” she spits, stomping toward the car before he could drag her again. Jackson says nothing, merely opens the door and gestures for h
Two days pass. And nothing changes. The boys remain distant, their eyes dull and their words clipped. They only speak when spoken to. They only interact with her at meal times, and even then, they keep their answers short. Rose is torn. She clings to Maya whenever she can, seeking comfort, but she also keeps looking at her brothers—unsure whether to follow their lead or stay by her mother’s side. Maya tries. She really tries.She sits with them at breakfast and attempts to engage them in conversation. Nothing. She invites them to play, to read, to go outside. Nothing. She even bakes their favorite cookies—warm, gooey chocolate chip, the ones they always fight over. They eat them in silence. No smiles. No laughter. No, ‘Mama, can I have more?’ Maya breaks. The third night, after another failed attempt to reach them, she snaps. “Enough,” she says, slamming her hands onto the dinner table. The triplets flinch. Maya’s voice trembles. “I don’t care what’s
Maya returns to the manor, bracing herself for another painful encounter with her sons. But what she doesn’t expect— Is to find them diligently attending class.Maya lingers outside the study where they are, pressing her ear to the door. The children’s voices are faint—too faint. She inhales, schooling her expression before stepping inside. The triplets sit at a long wooden table, their hands folded neatly atop their desks. Three tutors stand at the front of the room, their presence suffocating in its rigid formality. Maya barely suppresses a scowl. She doesn’t trust them. But she needs proof before she can get rid of them.Jackson won't listen if she doesn't have it and she knows mentioning her visit to his grandmother would just lead to more tension.She steps forward, folding her arms. “I’d like to sit in on the lesson.” One of the tutors, a woman with sharp cheekbones and sleek black hair, turns. “That won’t be necessary.” Maya stiffens. “Excuse me?” “The ch
The study remains silent, thick with emotions. Maya stands in the centre of the room, the golf club resting against her shoulder like a battle-worn sword. The air is sharp with the scent of sweat and fear, broken only by the ragged breathing of the two tutors groaning on the floor. The triplets remain seated at their desks but slowly inch towards each other in the aftermath, seeming to derive comfort from each other. The sight of it ignites something primal in Maya’s chest. Then— The door creaks open. The sound is almost hesitant as if whoever is entering already senses something is wrong. Maya turns slowly, her grip tightening on the club. The tall third tutor steps inside, tall and wiry with a neatly pressed suit and round spectacles. His brow furrows at the eerie stillness of the room. Then his gaze sweeps over the scene— The toppled chairs. The tutors sprawled on the floor, clutching their injuries. The triplets were eerily composed. And finally— Maya. Hi
Jackson drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting against the car door. His gaze flickers toward Maya every few seconds, but she remains eerily silent, her posture stiff, her expression unreadable. That alone is enough to put him on edge. He’s used to Maya being many things—angry, defiant, impulsive. But this? This composed stillness? It’s unsettling. She stares straight ahead, her fingers lightly tapping against her knee in a slow, methodical rhythm. It’s not a nervous tic—it’s calculated, almost as if she’s counting the seconds. Jackson exhales through his nose. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?” Maya doesn’t respond. His grip on the wheel tightens slightly. “You storm into my office like you own the place, demand that I follow you, and now you won’t even tell me why?” Nothing. Jackson’s jaw tics. “You’re being dramatic.” Maya finally shifts, just slightly, but her eyes remain focused on the road. “You’ll see soon enough.” Her voice is
Maya returns to the manor, bracing herself for another painful encounter with her sons. But what she doesn’t expect— Is to find them diligently attending class.Maya lingers outside the study where they are, pressing her ear to the door. The children’s voices are faint—too faint. She inhales, schooling her expression before stepping inside. The triplets sit at a long wooden table, their hands folded neatly atop their desks. Three tutors stand at the front of the room, their presence suffocating in its rigid formality. Maya barely suppresses a scowl. She doesn’t trust them. But she needs proof before she can get rid of them.Jackson won't listen if she doesn't have it and she knows mentioning her visit to his grandmother would just lead to more tension.She steps forward, folding her arms. “I’d like to sit in on the lesson.” One of the tutors, a woman with sharp cheekbones and sleek black hair, turns. “That won’t be necessary.” Maya stiffens. “Excuse me?” “The ch
Two days pass. And nothing changes. The boys remain distant, their eyes dull and their words clipped. They only speak when spoken to. They only interact with her at meal times, and even then, they keep their answers short. Rose is torn. She clings to Maya whenever she can, seeking comfort, but she also keeps looking at her brothers—unsure whether to follow their lead or stay by her mother’s side. Maya tries. She really tries.She sits with them at breakfast and attempts to engage them in conversation. Nothing. She invites them to play, to read, to go outside. Nothing. She even bakes their favorite cookies—warm, gooey chocolate chip, the ones they always fight over. They eat them in silence. No smiles. No laughter. No, ‘Mama, can I have more?’ Maya breaks. The third night, after another failed attempt to reach them, she snaps. “Enough,” she says, slamming her hands onto the dinner table. The triplets flinch. Maya’s voice trembles. “I don’t care what’s
Maya had stopped struggling against Jackson's grip long ago, resigning herself to the humiliation of being slung over his broad shoulder like a sack of rice. The rhythmic sway of his strides does nothing to ease her seething anger. Her arms are tightly crossed, her nails digging into her skin as she glared daggers at the back of his head. She’d already tried pounding against his back, wiggling like a fish out of water, and even whispering threats in his ear—all to no avail. The man was a walking fortress, unshaken by her tantrum. Her blood boils as they near the sleek black car waiting for them. The moment he sets her down on the pavement, she wrenches herself from his hold, her feet hitting the ground with force. Maya huffs in exasperation, flipping her messy hair over her shoulder as she shoots him a look of pure venom. “You are insufferable,” she spits, stomping toward the car before he could drag her again. Jackson says nothing, merely opens the door and gestures for h
Suddenly, jacksons brow furrows as his phone rings, looking away from the woman to pull out the device and pick up the call.Maya barely hears him. Her mind is still trapped in the echo of the grandmother’s words, malicious glee laced into every syllable, wrapping around her like thorns. Jackson killed them….Jackson murdered four women in his life.What did that mean for maya?What did that mean for the children? God…. Her children. Her babies. Her breath shudders out, unsteady, and for a moment, the world around her fades—too sharp and too dull at the same time. The warmth of the room bleeds into a suffocating chill, the air thick with something unseen but heavy, like storm clouds before a downpour. Somewhere on the edge of her spiraling mind, Jackson's voice cuts through the haze. "I was right," he says into the phone, his tone unreadable, the low timbre vibrating against the silence in the room. “They had them.” Maya blinks, barely processing the words. Then, reali
Maya's consciousness returns slowly, like wading through thick molasses. Her head pounds with a dull, insistent ache that makes even the soft morning light filtering through her curtains feel like needles in her eyes. She groans, trying to piece together fragments of memory through the fog of sedation.Then it hits her - flashes of desperate screaming, of fighting against strong hands holding her back, of threatening to throw herself from windows if they didn't let her find her sons. The memories crash over her like ice water.Flashback"Let me out!" Maya's voice is hoarse from hours of screaming, her fists pounding against the locked door until her knuckles bleed. "I'll kill myself if you don't let me find them! Do you hear me?"Mrs. Henderson's voice comes through the wood, trembling but firm. "Please, Miss Maya, think of Miss Rose. She needs her mother.""Then let me go!" Maya turns, wild-eyed, scanning the room for options. The window catches her attention - three stories up
Chapter: RunJackson moves quickly, pulling on his clothes and grabbing his coat. His mind races with possibilities, none of them good. His grandmother has always been ruthlessly traditional, obsessed with maintaining the purity of the carter bloodline. The boys - his sons - would be seen as both a threat and an opportunity in her eyes.Bursting through the hotel's exit doors, Jackson finds Marcus already waiting with the car."Sir, the airport-" David begins."Check the weather reports," Jackson snaps, already sliding into the back seat.Marcus' face is grim as he consults his tablet. "All flights are grounded, sir. The storm system is moving back in. They're saying it could be hours before-"Jackson doesn't wait to hear the rest. He's already out of the car, striding toward the tree line that borders the hotel property. His wolf is clawing at the surface, demanding release."Sir?" His beta calls after him. "What should I tell-""Handle it," Jackson growls, his voice already deep
The abandoned warehouse looms against the stormy sky, its rusted metal walls groaning under the increasing wind. Jackson stands at the entrance, his expensive suit a stark contrast to the decrepit surroundings. Behind him, Marcus shifts nervously."Sir, this could be a trap," Marcus whispers, his hand resting on his concealed weapon.Jackson's face remains impassive, though his nostrils flare slightly as he scents the air. "Twenty-three wolves inside. Heavily armed." His voice is cold and calculated. "Keep the perimeter secured."Inside, the warehouse is a maze of shadows and rusted machinery. Water drips somewhere in the darkness, creating an irregular rhythm that sets Jackson's teeth on edge. Industrial lights flicker overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow that does little to dispel the gloom.The rouge alpha's pack members line the catwalks above, their faces hidden behind identical black masks. They're positioned strategically, hands resting on visible weapons. A show of forc