The Triplets' Silent Mate

Chapter 4 – The Scent of Them

Ayla’s POV

The closer I get to the packhouse, the louder the world becomes again.

Voices carry through the trees—laughter, music, too bright against the dark.

Every sound hits wrong: too sharp, too close—too much. My senses don’t know how to filter anything anymore. Even the snow sounds louder beneath my paws.

Everything suddenly does.

It’s as if my body isn’t mine anymore; my muscles feel shifted under my skin, restless, too full of energy.

Every step feels like I could break into a sprint without meaning to.

Tala lingers at the edge of my thoughts, just watching, amused.

The packhouse glows ahead, warmth spilling across the snow; it should feel safe, but it doesn’t.

“I think we should shift back,” Tala says. “Unless you want to walk in like a lunatic and traumatize half the pack. I’d enjoy it, but apparently we’re supposed to behave.”

I guess she picked up that we aren’t exactly welcome here.

I nod and slip behind the tree line.

The shift comes faster this time, but not easier. Pain tears through me, sharp and sudden. Bones grind, skin stretches.

I bite down hard enough to taste blood, forcing it quiet. By the time I’m standing again, human, I’m exhausted and shaking.

I grab my clothes and dress quickly, fingers clumsy and sore.

“Already falling apart?” Tala mutters. “We just got here. I’ve never seen a wolf this clumsy before.”

I ignore her and pull my hoodie over my head. Once I’m done, I head toward the packhouse door and push it open.

Three different intoxicating scents hit me at once. It slams into me like a physical blow. My lungs seize, my vision blurs, and my knees almost give out. I grab onto the doorframe to keep myself steady, my fingers digging into the wood hard enough to hurt.

My heart stutters—then slams.

“What is that smell?” I gasp, bewildered as my nostrils flare.

“Oh,” Tala says, voice sharpening. “Well. That’s… not good.”

I barely breathe, trying to force the scents aside, but each of them cuts through. It doesn’t just hit me; it hooks into me, dragging something out from under my skin.

My fingers going numb, my chest tightens painfully as they wrap around me, pulling, clashing, tangling.

“Why do I feel like this?” I ask, my breathing shallow.

Tala goes quiet. Too quiet.

“…You’re not going to like the answer if I tell you,” she says finally.

I flinch, but before I can control myself, my feet move.

The first scent pulls me down the hallway as if it's commanding me. Each step feels heavy, like I’m being drawn somewhere I shouldn’t go.

I stop in front of a door.

Kael’s.

The name lands like a weight in my chest, and I can barely breathe.

“Of course it would be an Alpha,” Tala mutters, rolling her eyes. “Because fate has a sense of humor and clearly hates you.”

I stumble back a step; there’s no way I can allow that.

I automatically turn as the second scent snaps tight around me; it drags me farther down the corridor, almost making me trip.

I grab onto the door handle and immediately let go—it’s Ryker's room.

My stomach drops, and a chill runs down my back.

"Goddess, you cannot be serious,” I mutter. "Are you punishing me?"

Tala stays silent, listening to my feelings.

Dread floods my veins. This can't be real; I must be dreaming.

"It's one sick dream you're having," Tala sneers.

Before I can reply, the third scent finds me; it isn’t as dominant as the other two but is just as strong. It doesn’t pull me with force; it only lingers, waiting for me to go to it.

My feet automatically turn to it, finding the third and final door.

My body goes still. Soren.

Everything inside me goes quiet, like the world is holding its breath.

“No,” I whisper. "This... this can't be true."

“Yeah,” Tala says, softer now. "You know what it means, don't you?"

I step away, shaking my head.

And then it hits.

Not a thought, not a word, but a force.

“Mate," Tala says, and the word slams through me.

My body reacts instantly—my breath rips out of my lungs, and my knees buckle under me. Heat floods through my chest, sharp and overwhelming, like something just locked into place inside me.

I grab the wall to steady myself, trying to make sense of it all.

“What? What did you just say?” The words barely come out.

“They are our mate,” Tala repeats, without any humor.

She goes quiet, as I slowly shake my head in denial.

“No. No. No. This is wrong," I whisper. "There is no—"

“All three of them,” Tala says, cutting me off. “Because apparently the universe doesn’t believe in doing things halfway.”

My chest tightens painfully. Not them, anyone but them.

I raise my gaze to meet Tala's.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says quickly. “I didn’t pick this. If I had, we’d aim for less drama and emotional catastrophe."

I get up and run. Their scents follow me down the hallway, clinging, pulling, wrapping around my lungs until it feels like I can’t breathe without them. I hate that. I hate how it feels.

I reach my room and slam the door shut, pressing my back against it like I can block it out. But that doesn't work; I can still smell them, like they've settled under my skin.

“They’re your mates,” Tala says, with no sarcasm.

I shake my head hard.

“No, they are not," I say.

“Okay,” she replies lightly. “We can pretend. I support denial. It’s a strong coping mechanism. Very popular. For now.”

I slide down the door, pulling my knees to my chest, shaking my head as if that would help.

Three. Not just anyone. Them. Kael. Ryker. Soren. My tormentors.

“I won’t accept them,” I mutter, wiping the tears from my eyes.

Tala hums softly.

“Bold strategy,” she says. “Historically unsuccessful, but I admire the confidence.”

I almost snap back. Almost.

But the feeling is already growing inside me.

I won’t accept them.

But my wolf already has.

****