HATED BY MY TRIPLET ALPHAS

CHAPTER 2: PRINCE CHARMING

AMARIS’S POV

I couldn’t get out of my work post fast enough. I usually had my break half an hour before lunch.

I headed toward the black archway in the cafeteria wall that connected the kitchen to the warriors’ training room.

The training room was the most popular place at the academy, given how gruesome wolf training could be.

I had been making my way through the passage for a very long time and was pretty much used to it at this point. It was easy for me to navigate the tunnel in the dark.

The jagged walls were etched with foul words and crude carvings of d***s, courtesy of students who liked to leave their mark.

At the end of the passage, just below its arched curve, stood a wall made of soft wood. Small, strategically placed openings in the planks made it easy to peek through without the risk of being seen.

I’d been doing this for over a year now, and it was my favorite pastime. My lips curved into a huge smile as I crouched to watch the training.

Master Stone was teaching defense today. He was the head of warrior training at the academy, standing six feet tall and heavily muscled.

The warrior uniforms and training gear were black, adorned with silver details sewn into the fabric. Both the color and the design symbolized the noble class of the students who made up the team.

They all wore matching auras, standing ramrod straight with their hands folded behind their backs, their faces devoid of emotion.

I could never pull off a poker face like that. Tobias always teased me about my uncanny ability to wear my heart on my sleeve at all times.

Master Stone moved so suddenly that my attention snapped back to the training. Lightning-quick, he bared his fangs and lunged, slashing his claws at a female warrior.

It was Vera.

She must have been anticipating his attack. Reflexively, she blocked his claws with her forearm and jumped backward, landing on sturdy feet.

But Master Stone wasn’t done with her yet. He lunged again, his speed almost impossible to follow, closing the gap between them in the blink of an eye.

My heart rate spiked as I watched.

Vera held her stance, watching his rapid approach. At the last moment, just before he could strike her, she kicked off the ground.

The force pushed her shoulders back as she sent the heel of her foot into his midsection.

The impact hurled Master Stone over her head, preventing his blow from connecting. His body hung suspended in the air for a brief second before he came crashing to the ground.

But Master Stone was an expert for a reason. He easily softened the worst of his fall, rolling smoothly and landing on his feet with effortless grace.

Vera was barely out of breath. The only sign she’d just fought a master was the few strands of her light brown hair hanging loose from her high ponytail.

Master Stone sauntered toward her with an approving smile.

“Well done, Vera.”

“You made it quite difficult for me this time.” Vera smiled back, but her eyes were cold.

“Yes, but I knew our future Luna could handle it.”

He was right.

Vera might be cruel, but she was an excellent warrior.

The way she had defended herself against Master Stone made it clear—she was born for this. All of it. Being a skilled warrior. Being the future Luna of the pack. Having the entire Firestone academy worship at her altar.

Again, I wondered how different things could have been if I’d been given an equal opportunity to train at the academy. Perhaps it might have been possible if I didn’t have such a weak wolf.

Master Stone resumed his training.

I stepped closer to the wooden wall to watch the rest of the practice. My foot caught on something on the floor, pulling my ankle and sending me spiraling forward.

Shocked, I pressed my palms against the wall to stop my head from slamming into it.

I must have overestimated the wall’s sturdiness. It wasn’t strong enough to hold my weight, and as I crashed into it, the wall shattered, sending me into a terrifying spiral.

I yelped and squeezed my eyes shut as I fell amidst debris and splintered wood, finally crashing to the ground.

I winced from the pain of it.

“What is this?”

At the sound of Master Stone’s voice, my neck snapped toward him. His furious profile was fixed on me, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

He was giving me the most condescending look I had ever seen.

I also seemed to have gathered an audience—scathing, accusatory eyes, all watching me silently like a pack of predators.

Master Stone was the worst of all.

“What is your name, girl?” he asked.

“A-Amaris,” I stuttered, struggling to regulate my breathing. “I work in the cafeteria.”

“How did you manage to get behind that wall?”

“I – uh – I don’t…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. His glare didn’t help—it felt as though he could see through my soul.

“How do you intend to take responsibility for ruining my wall and interrupting my class, Amaris?” Master Stone uttered my name distastefully

Without meaning to, I did a quick scan of the room. All eyes were fixated on me. The tension in the room was so suffocating, I was tempted to run. But I stood my ground.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your class,” I said in a rush. “I enjoy watching your training sessions. You’re an incredible warrior, and it’s my greatest wish to train under your guidance and become a warrior myself.”

“You must be very foolish if you think you’ve got what it takes to earn a spot in my class, kitchen girl.” Master Stone’s gaze narrowed, a clear attempt to intimidate me.

I flinched at his dismissal.

“I’ll tell you what.” He folded his arms, smirking. “I’ll think about giving you a shot if you can manage to land a punch on me.”

“W-what?” I blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend his words.

“You heard me. Take your best shot.”

How the hell was this happening?

I had gone out of my way to avoid situations like this, preferring to stay in the shadows.

If that wooden wall hadn’t crumbled into a mess of debris and splinters, I would have gladly remained hidden, watching quietly in awe, longing for things I could never have.

“Come on, kitchen girl. What are you waiting for?”

Do not break, Amaris.

I stepped toward him, mustering every ounce of courage, and hurled my fist at him. He dodged easily and stuck his foot out, tripping me. I staggered and barely avoided falling to the ground.

Again, I tried to hit him. This time, he moved effortlessly out of reach and tousled my hair roughly, like I was nothing more than an annoyance.

“It’s people like you that I despise the most,” he said coldly. “Weak and pathetic nobodies who feel entitled to more than the Moon Goddess has granted them.”

His words s***h through me, sharper than I’d expected.

“You try to prove yourselves, hoping to fit in with those who are obviously superior to you. But the truth is, you’re nothing but worthless trash, not even fit to work in a cafeteria kitchen.”

I inhaled sharply, trying and failing to hold on to my quickly diminishing dignity. His words were humiliating. They hurt so much that tears welled in the corner of my eyes.

“Y-you have no right to speak to me that way,” I said, my voice trembling. "I may work in a kitchen, but I’m not the one embarrassing myself by picking on someone half my size."

“What! How dare you speak to me that way?” Master Stone raised his fist, rage burning in his eyes. I braced myself for the blow, squeezing my eyes shut.

But it never came.

A hand shot forward, grabbing Master Stone’s fist mid-air.

One of the warriors had stepped in—but even in his uniform, there was something about him that stood out. Something regal, commanding, and by every second, far more intimidating.

Zevran Romanov.

“That’s enough,” he said, his voice laced with shards of ice.

“What are you doing?” Master Stone seethed, struggling to free his wrist from Zevran’s grip. But Zevran had a tight grip on him.

“Your duty at this academy is to train warriors, not to pick on defenseless girls,” Zevran looked bored of the conversation.

“I was merely putting her in her place,” Master Stone spat.

“Well, you’ve obviously had your fun. How about you round off class and let us out early? It’s nearly lunchtime anyway.”

As if on cue, the lunch bell rang.

Zevran released Master Stone’s fist, and the man stepped back, clearly flustered. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Class dismissed,” he droned, before hurrying out of the room.

Zevran turned to me then, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. Instinctively, I straightened my spine, going on the defensive.

He arched an eyebrow, studying me as though he could see right through me. Or maybe he couldn’t—there was just something about his gaze that made it feel that way.

Those eyes.

They were the most beautiful gray I had ever seen.

Alluring, yet dangerous.

Eyes like that—it felt almost illegal for them to belong to him.

They were a highlight to the silver stud in his ear. His raven-colored hair was tied up in a lazy, low bun, giving him an air of effortless sophistication.

Up close, I couldn’t help but stare at his strikingly captivating beauty.

I knew about Zevran in an abstract sort of way. He was the third of the Romanov triplets. One of the Alpha princes who was destined to be Vera’s mate.

Aside from that, all I knew about him came from stolen glances—seeing him sit with his brothers in the cafeteria or making small talk with a group of friends on the lawn.

He had a quiet, brooding aura about him. The mysterious brother. It almost always felt like he was daring you to come talk to him first.

And now, he was standing in front of me.

“Were you hurt?” Zevran questioned. At 6’5, it was more like hovering.

“What?” I raised my brows in confusion.

“Earlier. With Master Stone.” His voice was cool and crisp, like the surface of a cold black lake.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t.”

Why was he asking? In what universe did Zevran Romanov care about my well-being?

I racked my brain, trying—and failing—to recall a single moment when he had ever spared me so much as a fleeting look, much less spoken to me.

“He’s usually an asshole to most people,” he continued. “You shouldn’t take it personally.”

“I’m hardly new,” I muttered.

Again, I wondered why he had come to my rescue. It was uncharacteristic for someone like him—a popular guy—to pay any attention to someone like me.

Unless?

I did a quick scan of the room. Most of the warriors had left, likely headed toward the cafeteria for lunch.

I returned my gaze to Zevran and was caught off guard by how intently he was staring at me. When had he moved closer?

I cleared my throat. “Thank you for coming to my rescue. I need to head back to work. I’ve been gone for way too long.”

Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heels and practically ran out of the room.

In the cafeteria, I got my lunch, filling my tray with items from today’s menu.

As kitchen staff, we were allowed one meal per day from the cafeteria and could sit in the idle corner near the kitchen to eat. Usually, we ate quickly so we could get back to work.

Before I could find a seat or locate Tobias, Zevran intercepted my path.

He was clutching a food tray, and somehow, he had changed out of his warrior gear and was back in his academy uniform.

He wasn’t exactly smiling, but something about his expression seemed amused.

Was it me? My heart rate picked up.

Without looking, I knew we had a full audience listening in on our bizarre conversation.

How could they not stare? It’d be hard not to, considering that Zevran was the loner of the three and never associated with most people.

And now, seeing him talking to the nobody “kitchen girl”—that was bound to make headlines.

“You’re very untrusting of people,” he observed.

“Sorry,” I exhaled nervously. “I just… well, I’ve never spoken to you people. I guess I panicked.”

He smiled this time. And the sight of it was beautiful.

“How about you give me a chance to be less untrustworthy? You can do that by choosing to have lunch with me at my table.”

“W-what?” I couldn’t believe what he was asking.

I looked at him—really looked at him.

He was breathtakingly handsome, dripping with that unrivaled air of power and royalty, but just like the other two Romanov brothers, he was Vera’s fated mate. They were all destined to be mated after the Christmas selection feast.

I had no business eating lunch with him.

And yet…

“Fine. I’ll sit with you,” I heard myself say, even against my better judgement.

Maybe a part of me wished to sit down with the regular, normal students. Maybe a part of me enjoyed not being regarded as less than scum.

A minute later, I was having lunch with Zevran Romanov at his designated table, where he usually sat alone, isolated from his brothers.

“That was quite the stunt you pulled back there in the training room,” he mused, idly playing with the edges of his plate.

He didn’t seem to be much of an eater, I noticed. Or perhaps he wasn’t hungry.

“I’m sorry about the wall,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“That could easily be fixed,” he shrugged it off. “What I’m more curious about is why you want to become a warrior.”

He sounded genuinely curious, like he actually wanted to know. It was mind-boggling how I had never spoken to him before today, and now here we were, having an actual conversation.

I tried not to pay attention to the flutter of heat in my belly.

But then again, of the three Romanov brothers, I had always fancied Zevran the most.

There was this one time when his brothers had gone out of their way to gang up on a football player from a rival pack. The heated exchange had nearly ended in a nasty fight.

The entire time, Zevran had remained silent, observing both sides. It took a lot of self-control to stay grounded and unaffected by most people.

“Becoming a warrior means I don’t have to feel so defenseless all the time,” I said, confessing some of the truth to him.

“What makes you feel defenseless?” he pressed.

Again, I felt that fluttering sensation in my chest. I needed to get a grip.

“A bunch of stuff. People.”

“Well, based on what happened, I doubt Master Stone’s gonna want to train you now.” He took a bite of his food.

My eyes zeroed in on his fingers—long, refined, and elegant. Everything about him was refined, like a fancy painting hanging in a mansion.

“I’ll find a way to keep training,” I told him.

“You’re quite persistent.” He didn’t look impressed by that—it was more of an effortless observation.

“I try my best.” I smiled hesitantly.

“I like your eye color,” he continued. "They could put emeralds to shame. Sharp, vivid… almost impossible to look away from."

I flushed at how blatantly he had put it out there.

“They’re just eyes,” I replied lamely. “I think they’re pretty ordinary.”

“They are not ordinary,” he countered, sounding serious.

There was something about his presence that made me weirdly comfortable. Not long ago, I had been eager to escape his company.

Now, apart from Tobias, I had opened up to him more than I had ever done with anyone else.

Zevran gave me a rare smile. “It’s satisfying to have you doing the staring for once.”

I chuckled at that. “Sorry. I was just thinking about how surprisingly easy it is to talk to you.”

Smiling, I picked up my fork to eat. Before I could take a bite of my food, something cold and slimy was dumped over my head from behind. I recognized it as sloppy joes even before I smelled it.

There was tomato juice too—a startling shade of red—and a huge chunk of it had been dumped on my white shirt.

I gasped, holding my breath.

I peered around the room, trying to find some sort of explanation. All I got were amused looks from students scattered across the room. Moments later, a burst of laughter erupted in the cafeteria.

Why was everyone laughing?

I looked at Zevran. He wasn’t laughing. There wasn’t a trace of amusement in his eyes.

Instead, he wore a cold, hard expression. Blank. Unreadable.

“W-what’s going on?” My hands trembled as I tried to wipe the sloppy joes out of my eyes, only succeeding in smearing it even further.

Rather than give me a response, Zevran quietly slid away from the table.

Confusion marred my face with a frown.

To my horror, I watched as Vera slid into the seat he had just vacated.

She was grinning, clutching a blue journal in her hands.

My blood froze at the sight of my journal in her grip. How had she gotten hold of it? Why was the entire cafeteria laughing and pointing at me? Who had dumped sloppy joes over my head?

What the hell was going on?

I searched the laughing crowd for a sign of Zevran. I spotted him quickly. He had his back to me and was walking away from my table.

Why was he walking away after being so nice to me? My heart raced.

“Dear diary,” Vera began reading out loud from my journal. “I wish more than anything to find my destined mate.”

No.

“Stop!” I reached out frantically to pull the journal away from her hands, but she leaned away and continued reading.

“I want the kind of romance that sweeps me off my feet. The kind you read about in fairy tales. Prince Charming. A huge castle with romantic candles and twinkling ballrooms.”

Vera paused, then threw her head back and laughed. “Goddess, could you be any more pathetic?”