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Chapter 3

Author: Frosted Cabbage
Ayla's POV

"Enough, Ayla. Stop recording and eat properly. It's basic etiquette. Delete the video."

Ethan's face was dark as he snatched the phone from my hands.

I knew exactly what they were afraid of. If I uploaded this footage to the Wolfpack Network, they wouldn't just face punishment from the Elders—they'd also break the hearts of all those noble families' unmarried fiancées.

In the end, he deleted the video. But he didn't realize I had already uploaded it to an encrypted private cloud.

In my past life, I had been too naive, believing that obedience and patience would lead me to my mate.

Back then, I had just entered the Mate Awakening Phase—young, striking, and shrouded in mystery. I was a figure of intrigue within the pack.

Many unmarked werewolves had tried to get close to me—only to be driven away by the triplets' looming presence.

They had chased off my suitors, trapping me in an invisible cage.

If they insisted on treating me as prey, then I wouldn't mind becoming a wolf in sheep's clothing.

That video wasn't enough evidence. I needed more leverage.

"No wonder everyone dreams of being doted on by three older brothers," I murmured with a soft laugh. "It does feel quite nice."

The triplets' smiles froze for a moment. They exchanged glances before their grins took on an unreadable edge.

"My dear little cousin," Kyle murmured, sliding an arm around me. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down my cheek. "I didn't expect you'd enjoy this so much. This is just the beginning. We still have plenty of surprises for you."

Ethan leaned in, his voice teasing, almost a whisper against my skin. "I'm curious, Ayla. Which one of us do you think is most qualified to be your mate? Or..." His lips curled. "Would you rather test us before deciding?"

Reine lifted my chin, his eyes gleaming with something dark and unreadable. "Or maybe... You can't wait any longer?"

In my past life, I hadn't been able to resist them.

They had taken turns claiming me, using illicitly made hallucinogenic wolfsbane to erode my body and mind—making me believe they were my destined mates.

They had taken me over and over in the training grounds, in hotel rooms, and even at the dining table. My body had been covered in bruises, yet I had been addicted to the illusion, mistaking it for love.

"My sweet little cousin," Kyle's voice was a blade wrapped in silk. "How about we head to the training grounds for some fun?"

His tone was gentle, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Sure," I replied calmly.

But the place they took me to wasn't the official training ground.

It was an abandoned wooden cabin, hidden deep in the forest behind the training field. Isolated. Forgotten.

No patrols came here. No one but the Cassiel brothers knew the secret path leading to this place.

The roof had partially caved in, cobwebs stretched across the corners, and the air was thick with the damp rot of decaying wood and the sharp tang of herbs.

Scattered in the center of the room were remnants of an old, brutal training ground—massive, jagged stones, rusted chains hanging from the rafters, bloodstained wooden stakes, and rows of deadly spike traps.

A shudder ran through me. The memories hit like a tidal wave.

This was where they had crushed my spine under a boulder.

Where they had pretended to heal me, only to tear my clothes apart and force themselves upon me.

A storm of fear surged inside me, but I forced myself to stay still.

Kyle's laughter was light, almost musical. "Would you like me to teach you how to fight like a true werewolf?"

I met his gaze, my lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile.

Then, I stepped forward.

In one swift motion, I lifted the very boulder they had once used to humiliate me and slammed it into the ground. The impact sent a shockwave of dust into the air.

Before they could react, I moved—lightning-fast, weaving through the spike traps with a predator's grace. My strikes were sharp, precise, every movement honed to kill. Each simulated enemy target fell as I tore through them with calculated efficiency.

When I turned back, Kyle and his brothers were frozen, their smug expressions replaced by rigid disbelief.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," I said softly, my eyes glowing a deep, ominous crimson. "A hybrid's strength is often more dangerous than you think."

That was when I saw it.

In Ethan's hand—concealed but unmistakable—was a wolfsbane injector.

He took a slow step forward, smiling.

"Well, well," he murmured. "Who would've thought? Our little cousin is impressive. So much more fun than that Omega woman."
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