The Twelve stepbrothers and I

2

The moving boxes mocked me.
I glared at the half-unpacked disaster of my new room—correction, my new prison—while my stepsister Callie flopped onto my bed like she owned it.
"Come on," she whined, kicking her legs like a toddler. "I'm older now. That means you have to listen to me."
I didn't even look up. "No. No. And go f**k yourself sideways."
She gasped, clutching her chest like I'd stabbed her. "Rude." Then, with the dramatic sigh she dropped her voice to a whisper. "Please? It's been so lonely here..."
Her lip trembled. Her lashes fluttered.
Oh, hell no.
"Cut the crap," I snapped, yanking a dusty journal out of a box. "You were glued to FaceTime with Chloe last night. You're not fooling anyone."
Chloe. Just the name made my teeth grind. My ex-best-friend-turned-mortal-enemy, who'd decided I was public enemy number one the second I'd developed curves and she'd stayed stick-straight. Was it jealousy? Insecurity? Or just because the universe had a sick sense of humor?
Who knew. Who cared.
Callie groaned, rolling onto her stomach. "You're my only friend in this stupid town," she said, pouting. "And there's a senior party next door. We're going."
I arched a brow. "Aww. That's adorable. Still no."
"PLEEEEASE." She hit me with the full-force puppy-dog eyes—the kind that made high school linebackers trip over their own feet.
I smirked. "Fine."
Her face lit up.
"How much?" I added.
She blinked. "...What?"
"I'll go if you pay me," I said sweetly. "Duh."
"Mom gives you an allowance thicker than my AP Bio textbook!" she shrieked.
"And yet," I mused, examining my nails, "I want more."
She groaned, flopping back. "Ugh. Twenty bucks."
"Forty."
"Thirty."
"Deal," I said, grinning. "But just know I would've done it for ten."
"You're the worst," she grumbled as I sauntered to my closet.
"And yet, here you are," I called over my shoulder. "Begging."
An hour later—after a shower in the ridiculously oversized marble bathroom (thanks, Mom's new marriage) and slipping into my "I'm not trying but I still look better than you" dress—I was halfway out the door when he appeared.
My new stepfather.
"Girls," he said, voice stern. "I need you on your best behavior tonight."
Callie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah—"
"Your stepbrothers will be at the party," he interrupted. "And they're bringing you home."
Silence.
Callie's mouth dropped open. "Step... brothers?"
I froze. "Brothers. As in, plural?"
He sighed, like we were idiots. "Yes. All twelve of them."
"TWELVE?!" we shrieked in unison.
He rubbed his temples. "If you'd listened when I spoke, you'd know their names—Jace, Rune, Knox, Nikolai, Grayson, Emerson, Milo, Kit, Anders, Vinnie, Forrest, and Blue."
My stomach dropped.
Twelve stepbrothers.
Twelve.
And if the smirk on Callie's face was any indication—
This was going to be a disaster.
I run downstairs at the speed of light to see mum who was holding my baby brother bear.
'twelve brothers mum what the f**k oh my god." I moan as Callie follows
"mum I can't live with twelve slob pig looking f***s this is not happening.
"live?" I say looking at Callie as she nods.
"yeah he Tony said about a month ago about it.
"fuck." I scream as long as possible as a drag my fingers down my face in an angered manner.
"you are ruining my f*****g life mum god this is awful." I sigh as Callie pulls me out the front door.
"come on we are gonna be late god I hope one of them is hot." she says as I roll my eyes.
"have you seen Tony we are so f****d, we are going to be living with a bunch of pigs." I scoff and she giggles
come on at least the house is like seven floors so you can have your own privacy.
"im serious right now Callie we need to make a pack we have to be mean to the boys ive heard guys will walk all over you if you don't show them who the alpha is." I say crossing my arms as the cab arrives.
"babe we are omegas we are bottom feeders they will probably be able to smell it on us." she says as I start to over think in my head.
we get in the taxi and I can feel my anxiety spike the common miss conception with being a wolf is anxiety doesn't exist for me it does and it f*****g sucks 
we make it to the party and I stand outside and knock on the red door the second it opens a tall man with a dark annoyed look on his face stares down at me and Callie.
"you must be Callie and Junie don't stand there like assholes come in oh and I'm Nikolai the oldest of the brothers." he says with a glare
The music from the party thrummed through the ground before we even reached the house.
Callie practically vibrated with excitement beside me, her heels clicking against the pavement as we approached the massive Victorian-style home. It loomed over us, its dark red door illuminated by a single flickering porch light. The bass from inside rattled the windows, and laughter spilled out from the backyard, where shadows of people moved under string lights.
I hesitated.
Something about this felt... off.
Maybe it was the way the house seemed to watch us. Maybe it was the fact that I was about to meet twelve strangers who were now, apparently, my stepbrothers.
Or maybe it was the fact that Callie had conveniently forgotten to mention this was a mansion party—the kind where people did stupid things and ended up on the news.
I crossed my arms. "We are not going in there."
Callie groaned. "Oh my God, Junie. Stop being such a—"
Before she could finish, the red door swung open.
A wall of heat, noise, and the sharp scent of bourbon hit us first.
Then him.
Tall—so tall—with shoulders that nearly blocked the entire doorway. Dark hair, tousled like he'd been running his hands through it. Sharp jawline, shadowed with stubble. And eyes. Ice-blue, piercing, locked onto us with an intensity that made my throat go dry.
He looked pissed.
"You must be Callie and Junie," he drawled, voice deep and edged with annoyance. "Don't stand there like assholes. Come in."
I didn't move.
His glare sharpened.
Callie, ever the people-pleaser, grinned nervously. "Uh, hi! You must be—"
"Nikolai," he cut in. "The oldest. And the one who didn't want this party here." He stepped aside, jerking his chin toward the chaos inside. "So if you're gonna stand there, at least do it where I don't have to look at you."
Charming.
I shot him my best go to hell smile. "Wow. And here I thought stepbrothers were supposed to be nice."
Something flickered in his gaze—amusement? Irritation?—before he smirked. "And here I thought stepsisters were supposed to be quiet."
Callie choked on a laugh.
I clenched my jaw.
Nikolai didn't wait for a response. He turned, disappearing into the house, leaving the door open behind him like a challenge.
Well. This was going to be hell.
Inside the Lion's Den
The second we stepped inside, the noise swallowed us whole.
Bodies pressed together in the dimly lit foyer, drinks sloshing, laughter too loud. A staircase coiled up to the second floor, where shadows moved in the hallway. To the left, a living room had been turned into a makeshift dance floor, strobe lights flashing over sweat-slicked skin.
And everywhere—boys.
Tall ones. Smirking ones. Ones with tattoos peeking under their sleeves. Ones who looked like they'd stepped out of a damn modelling shoot.
Twelve stepbrothers. Twelve.
My stomach twisted.
Callie, of course, was already grinning at a blond guy by the stairs.
I grabbed her wrist. "We are not here to flirt with our stepbrothers."
She rolled her eyes. "Relax. I'm just saying hi to—"
"Emerson," the blond supplied, flashing a grin. "And you must be the infamous Junie."
Infamous?
Before I could ask, a voice cut through the crowd behind us.
"Oh, this is gold."
I turned.
Another guy—no, not a guy, a menace—lounged against the doorway to the kitchen. Dark hair, green eyes, a smirk that screamed trouble.
"Knox," he introduced himself, pushing off the wall. "And let me guess—you're the stepsister who's already pissing off Nikolai?"
I narrowed my eyes. "I didn't realise existing was a crime."
He laughed, low and rough. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
Somewhere in the house, a glass shattered. A chorus of cheers erupted.
The party raged on around me, but all I could focus on was him.
Rune.
I didn't know his name at first—no one bothered to introduce us. But I felt him before I saw him. A prickle down my spine, the kind that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
I turned, and there he was.
Leaning against the far wall, half-hidden in shadow. Tall, broad-shouldered, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't drinking. Wasn't laughing. Just watching—like the chaos around him was nothing more than background noise.
And his eyes... God, his eyes.
Dark. Unreadable. Locked onto me with an intensity that sent a shiver straight through my bones.
I quickly looked away, my heart hammering. What the hell was that?
Callie nudged me, oblivious. "That's Rune," she whispered, following my gaze. "Quietest of the brothers. I heard he doesn't talk much."
No kidding.
I risked another glance. He was still staring.
A slow, dangerous smirk curled at the corner of his mouth—like he knew he'd gotten under my skin. Like he was enjoying it.
My cheeks burned. Asshole.
I forced myself to turn back to Callie, but the weight of his gaze never left me. It trailed down my back, over the curve of my waist, my hips, my bare legs. I could feel it—hot, possessive, hungry.
Then, a voice cut through the tension.
"Rune. Stop scaring our new stepsister."
Nikolai.
Rune didn't even flinch. Just flicked his eyes toward Nikolai for half a second before returning them to me.
"She doesn't look scared," he said, voice rough—like he hadn't used it in years. "She looks pissed."
A challenge
My breath hitched.
Nikolai rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just don't make her cry. Dad will have our asses."
Rune's smirk deepened. "No promises."
And then—just like that—he pushed off the wall and walked toward me.
Every step was deliberate. Predatory. The crowd seemed to part for him, like they sensed the danger radiating off him.
I stood my ground, chin lifted, even as my pulse went wild.
He stopped inches away. Close enough that I could smell him—leather, smoke, something dark and wild. Close enough that if I leaned forward just a little, our lips would—
No.
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
"You're staring," I snapped, hating how breathless I sounded.
Rune's eyes flicked back up to mine. "You're interesting."
Interesting.
Not pretty. Not cute.
Interesting.
Like I was a puzzle he wanted to take apart
Before I could respond, his hand brushed against mine—just the barest graze of his fingers. A jolt of electricity shot up my arm, and I barely suppressed a gasp.
His lips curved. "Careful, stepsister."
Then he was gone, melting back into the shadows as quickly as he'd appeared.
Leaving me standing there.
Breathless.
Shaking.
And completely screwed.
The bass of I Write Sins Not Tragedies pounded through the house like a second heartbeat, the chaotic energy of the party clashing violently with the storm inside my chest. I adjusted my big, round glasses—the ones my dad used to tease me about, calling me his "little owl"—and tugged self-consciously at the sleeves of my oversized black sweater. It drowned my frame, but I liked it that way. Less to stare at. Less to judge.
My ripped fishnets and scuffed Doc Martens completed the messy, don't-care vibe I was going for, but the smudged mascara under my big brown eyes? That was unintentional. A casualty of the night.
Forrest—the self-proclaimed "gay brother"—had been sweet, at least. His wild curls and easy smile were a stark contrast to the sharp-edged energy of the others.
"Hey, I'm Forrest. Love your hair—it's so wild," he said, reaching out to touch the tangled waves I'd long since given up taming.
I forced a smile but leaned back just slightly. "Yeah, thanks. I get it from my dad."
The words tasted like ash.
A familiar, suffocating weight settled in my chest. My dad. The man who'd promised me everything and then vanished the second his new girlfriend crooned his name.
"Please, excuse me a second," I mumbled, already stepping away before Forrest could respond
I didn't wait. Didn't look back. Just pushed through the crowd, my vision blurring as I bolted up the stairs.
The hallway was dim, the noise from below muffled but still oppressive. I caught a glimpse of Callie grinding shamelessly against Kit and some girl in a dark corner, but I didn't stop. Couldn't.
The bathroom door slammed behind me, the lock clicking into place like a lifeline.
Then—finally—I broke.
Tears spilled hot and fast as I yanked out my phone, my fingers trembling. I didn't even know why I was calling. Hope? Spite? Some pathetic, childish need to scream at him until he heard me?
The line rang. And rang. And—
Voicemail.


"Hey, Dad," I whispered, voice cracking. "I know I'm not supposed to call. Not after what happened with you and Mum. But I'm nearly eighteen, and you promised—you swore—you'd help me get ready to turn. Not that you care, since I've only mastered the tail and ears."
A bitter laugh tore from my throat.
"You're still my f*****g father. Why is Anna from accounting more important than your own flesh and blood? You know what—don't call. Don't do it. Don't f*****g call."
I hurled my phone across the room. It hit the tiled wall with a satisfying crack, clattering to the floor in pieces.
Pathetic.
I gripped the edges of the sink, my reflection staring back at me—pale skin flushed, eyes swollen, lips bitten raw. A mess. A disaster.
I splashed cold water on my face, willing the redness to fade. Willing myself to breathe.
Then I yanked open the door—
And collided with a wall of muscle.
A startled squeak escaped me as I stumbled back, my cheeks burning.
"I—I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," I stammered, already sidestepping to flee. If I didn't leave now, I'd be sobbing again in seconds.
But the guy—tall, unfairly handsome, with a smirk that made my skin prickle—blocked my path.
"Don't cry, sis," he drawled, tilting his head. "You got so much to look forward to living with us."
The condescension in his voice snapped something inside me.
I straightened, my sorrow hardening into ice. "And which of the morons are you?"
His grin widened. "Vinnie. And you are doll face."
I glared.
"Ah. Stone face, frown lines, bad attitude—let me guess. Junie?"
"Try smiling, sis. It's good for first impressions," he added, like he'd just delivered the world's most profound wisdom.
My nails dug into my palms. "Show me something to be impressed by first."
Vinnie's eyes darkened, his smirk turning filthy. "I didn't think you'd be this forward. But that comes later tonight."
Disgust twisted in my gut. "Ew, you f*****g pig."
I shoved past him, my heart pounding.
But not from anger.
From something far, far worse.
Heat.