Rejected by My Mate, Claimed by the Triplet Alphas

Chapter 15: Borders Closing In

Viene’s POV

Nathan called a meeting before I’d finished breakfast.

“Scouts,” he said, dropping a map on the table between us. Three marks along the outer edge, red, spaced apart like someone had been walking the perimeter looking for weak points. “Three separate sightings in the last twelve hours. All along the eastern border.”

“Miel’s pack,” I said.

“Not confirmed. Could be independent. Could be anyone who’s picked up on the residual claim and decided to see what it’s worth.”

“Worth to who?”

“To whoever gets to you first,” Neil said, not looking up from his own tablet. “A rejected mate with an active mark and a redirected bond isn’t just interesting. It’s valuable. Word travels faster than any of us would like.”

“So people are coming here because of what’s in my chest.”

“Some of them. Not all of them know exactly what they’re coming for. That’s almost worse. Desperation doesn’t need details.”

“How close did they get,” I asked.

“Close enough to trip the outer sensors,” Nathan said. “Not close enough to breach anything. Yet. That word matters.”

“Who are they?”

“Two unaffiliated wolves, based on the readings. Rogue, probably. The third is harder to place. Could be scouting for a pack. Could be someone working alone who heard the same rumor everyone else has heard.”

“What rumor?”

“That something happened to a rejected mate that shouldn’t have been possible,” Neil said. “That’s all it takes. Nobody needs the full story to want a piece of it.”

Nathan tapped the map. “This changes things. I need tighter control on movement, tighter control on who has access to which floors, and I need her kept closer than we’ve been keeping her.”

“Here we go,” I said.

“I’m not asking your opinion on the threat assessment. I’m telling you the threat is real.”

“I believe the threat is real. I don’t believe your solution is the only one.”

“Then give me a better one.”

I sat back, arms crossed. “You keep doing this. Every time something scares you, the answer is always the same. Contain her. Restrict her. Decide for her because deciding with her takes too long.”

“It’s not about speed. It’s about the fact that I can’t protect a moving target as easily as a stationary one.”

“I’m not a target. I’m a person, and I already told you once — guards outside, escort inside, not confinement. That agreement doesn’t expire just because scouts showed up on a map.”

“The situation’s changed.”

“The situation was already dangerous the day I got in your car. You don’t get to renegotiate every time it gets slightly worse.”

Nathan’s hand flattened against the table. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“I know. I’ve heard that sentence from you more times than I can count, and every time it comes with fewer freedoms attached. At some point keeping me alive starts looking exactly like keeping me contained, and I need you to understand those aren’t the same thing to me even if they are to you.”

He didn’t answer right away. Something in his face worked through it, slower than I expected from him.

“What do you actually want,” he said finally. “Specifically. Not in general terms. Tell me exactly what you need to feel like a person and not cargo, and I’ll try to build the security plan around that instead of the other way around.”

That caught me off guard enough that I had to think about it.

“I want to know what’s happening before it happens, not after. I want to be told the truth even when it’s inconvenient. And I want the freedom I already have to shrink only when there’s an actual, specific reason, not a general feeling that things are scarier than yesterday.”

“A general feeling is still information,” Nathan said.

“A general feeling is an excuse you can use whenever it’s convenient. Give me a specific reason and I’ll adjust without a fight. Give me a feeling and I’ll fight you every time, because I won’t know if it’s real or just fear talking.”

“That’s reasonable,” Nolan said from the corner, arms crossed, watching Nathan carefully. “More reasonable than anything you’ve offered so far.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Nathan said.

“You should have. You keep making these decisions like it’s just the two of you in the room.”

“Fine.” Nathan exhaled, slowly. “Guards double at the outer perimeter. Nothing changes inside the compound. She’s told about threats as they’re confirmed, not filtered through what I decide she can handle.”

“That’s a real offer,” I said, surprised.

“I’m capable of making one, occasionally.”

“What about the eastern corridor,” I asked. “You said the sightings were all along that border. Does that change anything about where I’m allowed to go inside?”

“It changes where the guards focus, not where you’re allowed to walk. Same rule as before. You get an escort, not a leash.”

“And if the scouts get closer.”

“Then we have this conversation again, and I might ask for more than I’m asking now. I won’t pretend otherwise.”

“As long as it’s a conversation and not an announcement.”

“Understood.”

“Good,” Nathan said, and for the first time since he’d dropped the map on the table, he almost sounded like he meant it.

Neil finally looked up from his tablet. “For what it’s worth, I think this is the right call. Temporarily.”

“Temporarily,” I repeated.

“If the situation escalates past scouting, this conversation happens again, and I won’t be on your side automatically next time. I’m agreeing to what’s reasonable right now. Not promising it stays reasonable.”

“That’s fair,” I said. “I can live with fair.”

Nathan looked at Nolan, something passing between them that wasn’t quite an apology but was close enough to count as one. “Anything else?”

“Just one thing,” Nolan said. “Next time you want to lock her in a room to keep her safe, ask yourself if you’re protecting her or protecting yourself from watching something happen to her. Those aren’t the same motive, even if they end in the same order.”

“That’s not fair,” Nathan said.

“I didn’t say it to be fair. I said it because someone needed to.”

Nathan didn’t have an answer for that. He folded the map instead, tucking it under his arm, and for a second I thought the meeting was over.

Then Neil’s phone buzzed.

He read it, and whatever color had settled back into his face after the last hour drained out of it fast.

“What,” Nathan said.

“Give me a second.”

“Neil.”

“One of my contacts near the border. She doesn’t send messages unless it matters.” Neil’s thumb hovered over the screen like he was deciding whether to say it out loud or just show us.

“Show us,” I said.

Neil turned the screen around so we could all see it. A single message, short, from a source I didn’t recognize.

They’re not guessing. They know she’s marked.

Nobody spoke for a moment.

“How,” I asked. “How would anyone outside this compound know that?”

Nathan folded the map once, carefully.

“That’s what I intend to find out,” he said. “Tonight.”