MARKED BY THE THREE ALPHAS

Chapter Fifteen

The days after the war room meeting fell into a strange, almost peaceful rhythm, one that felt both fragile and hard-won.

Lila woke each morning to the same sounds: distant howls fading into birdsong, the low rumble of pack members starting their day, the occasional sharp laugh from Jace or Cole in the clearing. She trained harder now, no more allowances for old injuries or lingering weakness. Sarah pushed her through footwork drills until her legs trembled, then praised her with a single gruff nod when she finally landed a clean takedown on Cole. Maya dragged her to the stream to wash linens or gather herbs, filling the hours with easy chatter that slowly chipped away at the walls Lila had carried for so long.

She spent afternoons in the war room with Kade.

They bent over maps together, tracing potential routes Silver Moon might take, debating choke points and fallback lines. Kade listened to her more than he spoke, his silence wasn’t dismissal but invitation. When she suggested reinforcing the river cut with hidden archers rather than open patrols, he considered it for a long moment, then marked the change on the parchment with a single stroke of charcoal. No fanfare. Just quiet approval. She felt the shift in the air between them: not quite trust yet, but the beginning of something solid.

Evenings belonged to the pack.

She sat by the fire with Maya, sharing stories of rogue antics and bad hunts. She learned the names of the pups who kept stealing food from the stores, the old beta who still told the same terrible jokes every night. She laughed, real, unguarded laughter that surprised her every time it came.

And always, always, the three alphas were there.

Not crowding her. Not demanding anything. Just… present.

Darius watched her during training, arms crossed, eyes tracking every move. When she nailed a combination and Sarah grunted approval, his mouth curved in the barest hint of a smile, gone so fast she almost doubted she’d seen it. Ronan observed from the shadows, silver gaze unreadable but never leaving her. Kade’s attention was quieter: a glance across the clearing, a nod when she passed him in the hall, the way his voice softened when he said her name.

She felt their eyes like warmth on her skin. Like fingers she couldn’t see.

And her body answered in ways she couldn’t ignore.

It started small.

Her skin felt too tight. Too sensitive. The brush of fabric against her collarbones made her shiver. The scent of pine smoke from the fire lingered on her clothes and she found herself inhaling deeper than necessary, chasing the memory of Darius’s warmth. When Kade leaned close over the map one afternoon, explaining a flanking maneuver, his breath grazed her ear and a flush raced down her neck so fast she had to grip the table to stay steady.

She told herself it was nothing. Adrenaline. Exhaustion. The moon approaching.

But Elder Sarah knew.

She caught Lila once at the herb shed, fingers brushing over bundles of dried lavender. Sarah’s gaze flicked to Lila’s flushed cheeks, then lower, to the way her breathing had quickened just from standing near the alphas’ lingering scents on the breeze.

“You’re close,” Sarah said simply.

Lila froze. “I’m fine.”

Sarah didn’t argue. Just handed her a small pouch of calming tea. “Drink this tonight. It won’t stop what’s coming. But it might ease the edge.”

Lila took it. Didn’t drink it.

That night she lay awake, staring at the ceiling beams. The moon was waxing, three days until full. She could feel it pulling at her, a tide inside her blood. Her skin prickled. Her breasts ached when she shifted on the mattress. Between her thighs, a low, persistent heat had settled, nothing urgent yet, just a promise. A warning.

She pressed her legs together. Bit her lip. Tried to will it away.

It didn’t go.

The next morning she woke damp between her legs, sheets twisted, dreams half-remembered: strong hands pinning her wrists, low growls in her ear, silver eyes watching from the dark while storm-gray ones burned above her. She sat up gasping, heart hammering, shame and want twisting together until she couldn’t tell them apart.

She dressed quickly. Avoided the mirror.

At breakfast Maya noticed.

“You okay?” she asked, sliding a plate of eggs across the table.

Lila forced a smile. “Just tired.”

Maya’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t push.

The day passed in a haze.

Training felt too intense, every block, every dodge sent sparks across her nerves. When Darius corrected her stance, his hand on her hip to adjust her balance, she nearly whimpered. He froze. His grip tightened for half a second before he let go like he’d been burned.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

She couldn’t answer.

By evening the restlessness was unbearable.

She slipped out after dinner, walking the perimeter alone. The moon was almost round now, bright enough to cast shadows. She stopped at the edge of the clearing, arms wrapped around herself, breathing hard.

Sarah found her there.

She didn’t speak at first. Just stood beside Lila, looking up at the same moon.

“It’s coming,” Sarah said finally.

Lila closed her eyes. “I know.”

“You can’t outrun it.”

“I’m trying.”

Sarah sighed. “Child… fighting your own nature doesn’t make you strong. It makes you brittle.”

Lila’s laugh was brittle. “I’ve been brittle for years.”

“And look how far it got you.”

Silence stretched.

Sarah touched her arm, light, brief. “When it hits, let someone hold you. You don’t have to do it alone.”

Lila didn’t answer.

Sarah left her there.

Lila stayed until the night grew colder, until the ache in her lower belly sharpened into something almost painful. Sharp twinges. Deep cramps that made her breath hitch. She pressed a hand to her abdomen, felt the heat radiating through her shirt.

It wasn’t just anticipation anymore.

It was beginning.

She walked back to the lodge slowly. The compound was quiet, fires banked low, wolves settling for the night. She passed the alphas’ dens on the way to hers. Darius’s door was cracked open, lamplight spilling out. She didn’t look inside. Couldn’t.

She slipped into her room. Closed the door. Leaned against it.

Another cramp rolled through her, deeper this time. She gasped, slid down to the floor, knees to chest. Tears stung her eyes.

She wasn’t ready.

But her body didn’t care.

The full moon was two nights away.

And whatever came next, she couldn’t stop it.