The Triplets' Silent Mate

Chapter 7 – The One Who Leads the Hunt

Kael’s POV

The forest goes almost silent when we enter, as if it's holding its breath. It's the kind of silence that warns, watches, and waits. Every hair on my back rises. The tension in the air is palpable.

I step past the tree line first, following Ayla’s intoxicating scent. It’s fresh and delicious, pushing my control to its limits. I just want to taste her. Hold her. Feel her. The bond is already growing stronger, and for a moment, I feel like I’m about to lose control and chase after the scent—exactly what I don’t want or need.

Ryker follows close behind me; Soren takes the rear. Formation. This is instinct—it’s the only way to maintain control.

But beneath that, Fenrir is awake—not restless, not pacing, but focused. He is ready to find and claim her. It took him only one whiff of her scent to become absolutely obsessed.

I, on the other hand, have tried to reason with him. I tried to explain that we need to reject her and find a strong Luna; the Goddess will provide me with a second-chance mate, a stronger one. She wouldn’t let our bloodline perish.

But Fenrir refuses to listen. I explained we can't have a mute, timid Luna. Not one who never stood up for herself. She’s weak and pathetic and would only destroy what we’ve built.

“She’s not weak,” he said. “She’s more than you believe she is.”

I was startled by his words; it was as if he knew something I’d always overlooked.

Then something slowly clicked in me: Ayla was always strong—not in the usual way, but silently. She endured our torments daily and never cracked under our pressure—maybe that was exactly what the pack needed. Someone who could handle pressure in silence.

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, the need to hold her in my arms grew. I tried to fight it every possible way, but it was all in vain.

“She’s here,” Fenrir announces, cutting through my thoughts.

I don’t respond. I already know.

Berries, fresh and alive. Overwhelming. Twisting something deep inside me.

It clings to the air in sickening waves—to the trees, even on the ground beneath our feet.

“Mate,” Fenrir growls, the word settling heavy in my chest. It's unavoidable.

“No,” I say out loud this time. Not rejecting the truth—just trying to control it. Because this is not how it was supposed to happen. Not her. Not Ayla.

“She is ours,” Fenrir snarls, his voice final.

My eyes darken in response.

“I know,” I say, still fighting the bond—and that’s the problem.

She is the last person I thought I’d ever be mated to, yet here we are, following her scent in a sick twist of events.

We move deeper into the forest, slower now. The scent becomes more intoxicating as we get closer. Then it shifts, not randomly, but intentionally.

“She’s moving,” I whisper, narrowing my eyes.

“She’s strategizing her next move,” Soren says quietly behind me.

I glance back briefly. He’s always been the quiet one among us. Observing, keeping his distance, patiently taking time before acting. It’s his gift—a brilliant strategist.

Blaze, his wolf, is on the surface, watching and reading our surroundings. The same hunger burns in his eyes.

“She’s not running blindly anymore,” Soren says. “Her wolf is—”

Ryker scoffs, cutting off Soren’s thought. I know that’s Duke—he’s close to losing control.

I exhale slowly.

Ryker will have to work the hardest to gain Ayla's trust. He’s never been patient with her due to his short fuse, but he’s an excellent fighter. His wolf is strong, fast, and fearless.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “We’ll still catch her.”

I stop, making the others halt instantly.

The air shifts, crackling with tension. It's as if I can taste her scent on my tongue.

Fenrir goes still, his ears twitching, and he suddenly points his muzzle toward the treeline.

“There,” I say, lifting my head slightly.

My chest tightens.

“She’s close,” I say, my words low, controlled, and serious.

"Mine!" he exclaims, my whole body going rigid.

I step forward again. Slower now. More precise. Every movement is deliberate, ensuring I don’t lose control. Branches shift lightly underfoot; snow crunches softly.

We’re not hiding—not anymore. Let her hear us. Let her know we’re coming.

“Kael,” Soren’s voice stops me.

I glance back. His expression is different.

More focused. More certain.

“She’s afraid,” he warns.

Something sharp twists in my chest. I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all. We’re her mates. We’re supposed to protect her, not make her run.

“She should be,” Ryker mutters and grins. “She’s getting three for the price of one. A full house. She’s ours. All three of us.”

I don’t respond, because even I know the way he said it didn’t sound right.

Fenrir growls low, warning him over our mind link.

“She ran from us because of your behavior toward her,” he snarls, angry. “We wouldn’t be in this predicament if you could control your actions!”

Silence falls, immediate and suffocating.

“Yes,” I admit after a moment, feeling ashamed. “Because we gave her a reason to run.”

I remember all the things I did to her. How I hurt her. How I embarrassed and humiliated her. But now I want to set things right. I want her as my mate.

Ryker doesn’t argue, for once. He drops his head in shame, cheeks and ears turning red.

Soren stays quiet, and that says enough.

I turn forward again and deliberately move at a slow pace. We mean her no harm.

“Slow down,” I order.

Ryker exhales sharply but obeys, and we spread out slightly.

We aren’t hunting—even if Ryker believes otherwise—just tracking. There’s a difference.

Fenrir pushes forward again, desperate. “Take her.”

My jaw tightens, but I manage to shake my head.

“No, that’s not how this works,” I tell him. “Not with her. Not anymore. If we want to gain her trust, we’ll have to work for it.”

“I don't think she's going to give in that easily,” Soren says over the link.

Fenrir backs down immediately, but his attention still lingers straight ahead.

We take a few more steps, then stop.

She’s here; I can feel her aura filling the space around us. It's different, yet stronger than I ever expected. The bond hums under my skin, pulling, demanding that I find her.

“She’s not an omega,” Ryker says, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought so,” Soren replies.

Our gazes turn toward him in surprise. “You knew?” I ask.

“I suspected,” he replies. “She’s an Alpha’s daughter—”

I remember my parents saying something in hushed voices the night she came, but I never truly understood it. She seemed so weak, so silent, so timid to be born from one. Over the years, I figured I misunderstood, that maybe she was banished by an alpha instead.

Is that why Soren kept his distance? He knew she could be stronger than she thought.

Fenrir's ears twitch, and a whimper escapes his lips.

“Over there,” he says, pointing his muzzle toward a tree. “She’s trying to hide behind that tree.”

I almost immediately spot her.

“Step out,” I order.

But Ayla doesn't move.

“She heard us,” he says. “She’s just being stubborn.”

I know. Of course, she’ll be difficult.

“Come out, Ayla,” I call again, keeping my voice steady and unyielding—but not the way I used to speak to her. Not sharp, not dismissive. Different. It has to be, if I want to gain her trust. Now, the game has changed. Everything has changed.

Yet, Ayla ignores my request.

Ryker shifts restlessly beside me, tension rolling off him. He's not used to being patient.

“She’s still running,” he mutters.

But I don’t think so. I shake my head. If she was, she wouldn’t be watching us from behind the tree.

“No, she’s deciding,” Soren clarifies.

“She will come,” Fenrir hums low. “She won’t be able to resist the bond too long.”

I don’t know if that’s confidence or instinct, but one thing is certain: we’re not leaving without her. She’s ours.

I’m not pretending otherwise.

Now all that’s left is whether she chooses us… or forces us to earn it.

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