chapter 8

Chapter 8

Logan's POV

As the first rays of dawn filtered through my curtains, I found myself wide awake, and my mind was a churning cauldron of thoughts and emotions.

I stretched in my bed, muscles tensing as I grappled with the bizarre twist fate had thrown our way. How in the Moon Goddess's name were we supposed to share my brother's ex-girlfriend as our mate?

Sure, Avyaane was pretty - I couldn't deny that. But as Chad's ex, I harbored a deep-seated resentment towards her. It could've been anyone else's ex, for fuck's sake.

But no, it had to be the one belonging to Chad - perfect, precious Chad, who always came first and was always the best. Everyone else was second fiddle to him, and this situation only served to show how we were left with his leftovers.

"Damn it all," I growled, punching my pillow in frustration. The familiar bitterness rose in my throat as memories flooded back - Dad training Chad alone when he was alive, forgetting about the rest of us as if we weren't his children too.

The constant, unspoken implication that only Chad mattered, that he was the only one worthy of becoming Alpha.

I sat up abruptly, running a hand through my disheveled hair. "What if something happened to his precious Chad?" I muttered darkly. "What if one of us had to take over as Alpha? Would we had mattered then?"

The thought sent a perverse thrill through me, quickly followed by a wave of shame. He was my brother, after all. But the resentment had been festering for so long, it was hard to quell.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the matter at hand. Avyaane. Our mate. The girl who had attempted rejecting us so violently.

"Just you wait, little bitch," I snarled, a cruel smile twisting my lips. "Once you get better, you'll wish you had stayed forever in the hospital. Even Chad will pity your life here with us."

With that vow echoing in my mind, I finally allowed myself to drift into a light, restless slumber.

About an hour later, as sunlight flooded the room, I was jolted awake by the persistent whine of our wolves. The pain from Blair's wound was still palpable through our bond.

Cursing under my breath, I threw off the covers and strode purposefully to my stubborn brother's room.

Without bothering to knock, I barged in. "Alright, enough of the bravado facade," I announced, eyeing Blair's pale form on the bed. "Let's get you checked out. The bullet might be laced with poison." I concluded.

Blair's eyes snapped open, narrowing in irritation. "Oh, come on," he groaned. "Get out of my room, you dickhead." He cursed. 

I felt my temper flare. "Watch your tongue," I snapped. "I'm not one of your fawning groupies."

Ignoring his protests, I sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed his arm. The wound was still seeping blood, looking angry and inflamed.

"We're going to the hospital before school," I declared, my tone brooking no argument. "I'm sure the nurses will give you something."

Blair's lip curled in a sneer. "Alright, boss," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I stood, fighting the urge to smack him. "Now get up and dress," I ordered. "Or do you need me to do that for you?" I asked sarcastically.

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Save that treatment for your princess that's soon to join us," he retorted, his words laced with equal parts sarcasm and venom.

I cursed under my breath, my patience wearing thin. "Fuck you and the princess," I snarled, slamming his door as I left.

About half an hour later, as we gathered around the ornate mahogany breakfast table, the early morning sunlight streaming through the large bay windows cast long shadows across the room.

The four of us reclined casually on the dining chairs, waiting to be served. The cook, a middle-aged wolf named Marta, moved silently around us, her eyes downcast as she placed steaming plates of food before each of us.

I couldn't help but notice, as usual, how our individual personalities were reflected in the way we wore our school uniforms. My own tie was always loose and deliberately askew, a small act of rebellion against the constraints of our position.

Blair, the bitch, ever the peacock, had left several buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his toned chest - always his way of drawing admiring glances from the pack's females.

Killian, with his perpetual chip on his shoulder, had his sleeves rolled up, his muscular forearms on display as he was constantly ready for a brawl.

And then there was Chad - perfect, polished Chad. His uniform was immaculate, every crease sharp and every button fastened, the very picture of the ideal Alpha lead.

The clink of silverware against fine china filled the silence as we began to eat. It was Chad who finally broke the tense quiet, his voice laced with a concern that grated on my nerves.

"Blair," he said, his brow furrowed as he regarded our injured brother, "I didn't think you'd go to school in your condition." He said.

Blair's response was as swift as it was caustic, his lips curling into a sneer. "Oh, don't start treating me like a lady around here," he spat, blue eyes flashing. "Save that for Allison." The mention of Chad's girlfriend hung in the air like a challenge.

Killian, never one to miss an opportunity to stir the pot, let out a derisive snort. A smirk played across his lips as he added,

"Who's gonna woo all the ladies if Blair doesn't show up? I bet he's more worried about pussy right now than his health condition." His words were deliberately crude, designed to provoke a reaction.

I felt my patience wearing thin. Before the situation could escalate further, I intervened, my voice clipped and authoritative. "We're passing by the hospital to patch him up on the way," I informed them, my tone brooking no argument.

At the mention of the hospital, Killian's eyes lit up with a cruel gleam that sent a chill down my spine. "That's great," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

"We can see our little miss beauty before we reach school. I was thinking school won't be fun without our plaything." The way he referred to Avyaane, our mate, as a 'plaything' made my stomach churn.

Not to be outdone, Blair chimed in, his handsome features twisted into a sneer. "She's probably still knocked out from all the trauma," he mused, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

"Come to think of it, no girl can stand pleasuring the four of us. Let alone the weakest in our pack." His words hung in the air, a mix of boast and threat that left me feeling conflicted.

I felt a turbulent mixture of emotions swirling within me - disgust at their callous attitudes, anticipation at the thought of seeing our mate again, and a darker, more primal part of me that relished the idea of exacting revenge for her violent action.

It was a toxic cocktail of feelings that left me feeling off-balance and on edge.

Chad, ever playing the role of the levelheaded leader, rose from his seat with a deliberate grace. "Alright, time to head out," he announced, his voice steady and commanding. "Who's driving?" He asked.

Eager for any distraction from my tumultuous thoughts, I stood quickly. "Allow me the pleasure," I replied, stretching my arms above my head in a show of casual nonchalance that belied the tension coiled within me.

As we filed out of the dining room and piled into our sleek black SUV, the air around us seemed to crackle with unspoken rivalries and simmering resentments. The leather seats creaked as we settled in, the sound unnaturally loud in the tense silence.

As I slid behind the wheel and gunned the powerful engine to life, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were hurtling towards something beyond our control.

Our newly discovered mate, our wounded pride, our fractured brotherhood - it was all a volatile mix, a powder keg just waiting for a spark.

The smooth purr of the engine filled the car as I steered us towards the hospital and the unconscious girl who had, in the span of a single night, turned our world upside down.

As the familiar streets of our territory blurred past the windows, I found myself wondering if any of us were as thrilled as I am for what lay ahead. The road stretched out before us, leading towards a certain future where only the bold and strong will lead.