I'm not your project
1377 Words
They always knew they’d share a mate.
It was one of the first things their father told them after their first shift: You are not one wolf, but three. One heart. One purpose. One mate.
It had never felt strange. Never felt wrong.
It was instinct. Deep and bone-bound.
What did feel wrong was the sight of her Savannah Cross bleeding and pretending not to be. Wearing armour made of sarcasm and disdain while she carried something broken under her skin like a secret, she had no intention of letting them near.
And that wasn’t okay.
Rowan leaned back against the far wall in the pack clinic, arms crossed, jaw locked tight. He could still smell her blood even though the nurse had cleaned it away. Her scent clung to his clothes, to the inside of his lungs. Fire and frost. Moonlight and something more dangerous underneath.
He hated how strong the urge was to touch her. To pull her into his arms and make her see what she was doing.
“She didn’t even flinch when I opened the door,” Rowan muttered.
“She didn’t expect to be caught,” Luca said. He sat near the doorway, foot bouncing restlessly, fingers tapping against his thigh. “She hides it well. The pain. The rage.”
“She shouldn’t have to hide it.” Jace’s voice was low, laced with fury he couldn’t quite swallow. He paced like a caged animal. “She’s ours. How could she do that to herself?”
“Because she doesn’t know,” Luca said, voice quieter now. “Not about us. Not about what she means.”
“She doesn’t care,” Rowan added, but it sounded like a lie. “She acts like we’re beneath her.”
“She’s protecting herself,” Jace said, stopping mid-step. “I saw the way she clenched her fists when that girl talked s**t in the hall. She wanted to fight. But she didn’t. She’s running on instinct. Fear. Rage. She’s alone.”
None of them said anything for a beat.
Then Rowan: “She shouldn’t be alone.”
They looked at each other. A silent agreement passed between them like lightning over still water.
They were going to be alphas. Not someday. Not eventually.
Soon.
The New Moon pack was already shifting around them. People followed their lead, bent their necks, and waited for orders they hadn’t even given yet. Their strength wasn’t just physical it was in their unity. One mind. Three wolves. Future kings.
But the girl they’d been made for she was hurting herself.
That was unacceptable.
“She’s going to hate us for this,” Luca said. “Taking her here. Making her be seen.”
“Better she hates us,” Jace growled, “than we find her bleeding in a damn bathroom again.”
They all turned when the exam room door creaked open.
The nurse stepped out, looking pale and slightly shaken. “She’s… stable. I cleaned the wounds. Gave her something mild to calm her nerves. But she refused to talk. To anyone.”
Rowan pushed past her without waiting.
Inside, Savannah sat on the paper-covered table, arms wrapped around herself like a fortress. Her eyes lifted slowly when she saw him.
Cold. Flat. Daring him to speak.
Luca and Jace followed, quiet but unyielding.
“You’re angry,” Luca said, stepping beside the sink.
“No,” she said, voice dull. “I’m exposed. There’s a difference.”
“We didn’t mean to”
“You didn’t mean to find me bleeding out in a stall? Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Rowan stepped forward. “You don’t get to make this a joke.”
“I’m not joking.” Her voice cracked, just a hair. “I’m surviving.”
Jace knelt in front of her, his expression softer than it should’ve been. “You don’t have to survive alone.”
Her laugh was hollow. “You think I’d let you three save me?”
“Not save,” Rowan said. “Stand with.”
She blinked.
And for the first time, her mask didn’t c***k.
It shivered.
They gave her a pamphlet before she left the clinic.
Some glossy printout with a sunshine-yellow logo and “You Are Not Alone” written across the top in friendly letters. The nurse’s voice was soft. Empathetic. Practiced. She told Savannah she was “brave” and “strong” and “should talk to someone trained to help.”
Savannah nodded through the whole speech and even smiled a little at the end. Then she took the card, walked straight to the nearest bin, and crushed it in her fist.
“Trained to help,” she muttered.
Help would’ve come before everything shattered. Before her dad dragged her across the country, before she lost her friends, her safety, her silence. Before him.
She didn’t want to think about him.
So she didn’t.
Back at the house, the lights were still off. There was no sign of her father. No message. No apology.
Just another quiet evening in exile.
She threw the pamphlet in the trash and marched upstairs like she wasn’t seconds from unravelling again. The blade was goneconfiscated. She didn’t try to replace it. Not yet. Not today.
Tomorrow was soon enough.
Morning came too fast.
The school was exactly the same too loud, too close, and too full of people who had decided she was either a threat, a freak, or a toy.
But this time… it was different.
She noticed it the second she stepped into her first class.
Rowan.
Leaning back in a desk near the window, arms folded, eyes already on her.
She blinked. He blinked back.
No smirk. No words. Just there.
Okay.
She moved to the opposite side of the room.
Second period: Luca.
Front row, casual, chatting with a few other students like he belonged which he probably did. When she walked in, he turned his head just slightly. Met her gaze. Winked.
Savannah rolled her eyes so hard it gave her a headache.
Third period?
Jace.
Of course.
And the worst part?
She couldn’t even be mad.
Not really.
Because even though she hated being watched… some part of her deep and angry and starved liked it.
Liked being seen.
Liked that someone gave enough of a damn to stalk her schedule like wolves circling prey.
But she wasn’t about to let that show.
By lunch, she’d had enough.
She found them of course, they were sitting together and dropped her tray onto the table hard enough to rattle it. All three looked up, unbothered.
“Okay,” she said, “this stops now.”
Jace raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘this.’”
“The babysitting. The weird tag team thing you’re doing. You’re not my handlers.”
Rowan leaned forward. “We’re not trying to handle you.”
“Then what the hell are you trying to do?”
“Make sure you don’t bleed out alone in a bathroom again,” Luca said casually, sipping from a soda can.
She scowled. “That’s not your job.”
Rowan’s voice was quieter but cut harder. “It is if you’re ours.”
The word "ours" hit her like a slap.
“I’m not a responsibility. I’m not your project. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through or who I am. So stop acting like I’m some broken toy you need to fix to feel good about yourselves.”
All three of them went still.
No arguments.
No protests.
Just… stillness.
Until Jace spoke, voice lower than the others. “We don’t want to fix you.”
Savannah’s jaw tightened.
“We just want you alive enough to hate us tomorrow,” Luca added with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
She opened her mouth then closed it again.
Because what could she even say to that?
They weren’t wrong.
But she wasn’t ready to be right.
Not yet.
She stood. “Stay out of my way.”
And this time, none of them followed her.
Not with their feet.
But she could feel them still like their shadows had curled around her spine and refused to let go.
- Writer
