Becoming Luna: My Triplet Alphas

Chapter 5: You're shitting me

I was awakened by banging—loud, insistent, like someone was trying to break down my door. For a few disoriented seconds, I was utterly confused. My body felt heavy, as though it didn’t quite remember how to move. My mind was a blank slate, struggling to piece together basic information. What time was it? Where was I? For a fleeting moment, I couldn’t even recall my own name.

Then it all came rushing back.

I was in my apartment. I had gotten home late from dinner at my parents' house, put the leftovers my mom insisted I take in the fridge, and watched some mind-numbingly bad TV before crawling into bed. I had slipped into my favorite t-shirt, one so worn it was practically a second skin, and nestled under the covers. Of course, my thoughts had wandered back to the kiss—his kiss—the one I hadn’t been able to stop replaying in my mind. The warmth, the softness, the spark.

The banging jolted me back to the present.

“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath as I forced myself upright. “I’m coming!”

Grabbing my robe from the chair at my vanity, I hastily pulled it on. The silky fabric wasn’t much of a shield—it barely grazed my knees and wasn’t exactly warm—but it was better than nothing. My feet padded across the cool hardwood floor as I made my way to the living room, squinting against the harsh brightness of the lights I’d just switched on. They seared into my half-asleep brain, making me stumble slightly.

As I approached the door, my mind raced, trying to figure out who could possibly be pounding like that at such an hour. I hadn’t buzzed anyone in. The building’s security was decent, so it couldn’t be a random stranger. The only logical explanation was a neighbor, though I hadn’t been making any noise—quite the opposite. I’d been dead asleep.

Frowning, I unlatched the chain and unlocked the door, bracing myself for whatever awaited me on the other side.

When I opened it, I was greeted by him.

“Jaxon?” The name escaped my lips as both a question and an exclamation. “What are you—”

My words dissolved into thin air as I was suddenly swept into a hug so tight it stole the breath from my lungs. It wasn’t a typical embrace—it was desperate, raw, and filled with an intensity that left me stunned. Instinctively, purely out of self-preservation, I wrapped my legs around him. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, and I felt the warm, ragged rush of his breath against my skin.

“Jaxon?” I said again, my voice trembling now. Something was wrong. This wasn’t the Jaxon I knew—the easygoing, self-assured man who had filled my thoughts and sent my heart racing. This was different. It was… off.

“What’s happening?” My gaze darted toward the still-open door, just as another figure stepped into view.

The man who entered looked eerily similar to Jaxon, but he wasn’t him. Where Jaxon’s eyes were a rich caramel swirl, this man’s were piercing blue—cold and sharp, like the deepest parts of the ocean. His jaw was clean-shaven, his hair slightly longer, curling around his ears and brushing against his forehead. He moved with a quiet power, every step deliberate, as though he owned the space around him.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice rising in panic as I tried to wriggle free from the man holding me. His grip was unyielding, though not painful, and I could feel the tremor of his muscles beneath my touch. “What is this?”

“Mason! Put her down!”

The voice was unmistakable, and it sent a wave of relief crashing over me. Jaxon.

He stood in the entryway now, his expression a mix of fury and restraint, his eyes locked on the man holding me. “Now!”

The room filled with a deep, rumbling sound, a low growl that vibrated through my very core. It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t coming from somewhere in the apartment—it was coming from the man holding me. The sound resonated from his chest, raw and animalistic, echoing under my ear like a warning.

“Jaxon?” My voice was barely a whisper now, laced with fear and confusion.

“Mason, now!” Jaxon’s tone was sharper this time, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. His entire body radiated authority, his stance commanding and unyielding.

Slowly, the man—Mason—loosened his grip on me. My feet found the ground again, and I stumbled slightly as I tried to regain my balance. My heart was racing, my breath coming in shallow bursts.

Looking up at Mason, I realized why I’d confused him for Jaxon at first. The resemblance was uncanny—like two sides of the same coin. Mason had the same angular jawline, the same broad shoulders and towering height. But where Jaxon’s features were warm and inviting, Mason’s were sharper, almost predatory. His green eyes were the most striking of all—vivid and mesmerizing, like sunlight filtering through a canopy of leaves. They were so vibrant they seemed almost unnatural, pulling me in against my will.

“Stella,” Jaxon said softly, drawing my attention back to him. His tone was a stark contrast to the steel in his earlier commands. Now, it was filled with an apology so profound I felt it in my chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” My arms wrapped tightly around myself, more for comfort than warmth. The silky robe suddenly felt paper-thin, offering no protection against the chill creeping into my bones. “What’s happening? Who is this?”

“These are my brothers,” Jaxon said, his gaze shifting briefly to Mason before landing back on me. His voice was steady, but there was a heaviness in it that made my stomach twist.

“We’re your mates,” Mason said, his voice almost a growl. The deep, guttural sound vibrated through the room. Mates?

“You’re what?” I managed to choke out, my voice tinged with disbelief.

Mason turned sharply toward Jaxon, his green eyes blazing with accusation. “You tried to keep her from us.”

“I didn’t,” Jaxon said, his tone defensive, though guilt flickered across his face.

“You did!” Mason’s voice thundered through my living room, reverberating off the walls and rattling the very air. The sheer power of it made my chest tighten, my instincts screaming at me to run or hide. My feet moved of their own accord, taking a step back.

“Stella,” a new voice said softly, drawing my gaze. It belonged to the third one, the one with the ocean-blue eyes that seemed to pull me under like a tide. His voice was impossibly calm, smooth, and gentle, like the sound of a breeze brushing through leaves. It wrapped around me, easing some of the panic clawing at my chest. “You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“Nothing to be afraid of?” I snapped, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. “I need someone to tell me what the hell is going on!”

Frustration boiled over in my tone, my anger and confusion mixing into a potent cocktail of fury. My hands were shaking now, trembling at my sides, but I clenched them into fists to try and steady myself.

Jaxon took a step toward me, his expression pleading, but the movement only made me retreat further until my legs hit the couch behind me. I held up a hand, my fingers trembling. “Don’t come closer,” I warned, my voice cracking. “Jaxon, you’re scaring me, and I need an explanation.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, his face crumbling like I’d struck him. His caramel eyes darkened with pain, the kind that seemed to seep into his very being. “I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. He held out his hands toward me, palms up, a gesture of surrender. “I wanted us to have more time before I… before I told you everything.”

“All of what, Jaxon?” I demanded, my voice rising with anger now. My hands shook at my sides, and I crossed my arms to hide them, trying to hold onto some semblance of control.

“We’re werewolves, Stella,” Mason declared, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Werewolves? My mind scrambled for any kind of logical explanation, any way to make sense of what I’d just heard.

“You’re shitting me,” I said, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up from my chest. My eyes darted to Jaxon, searching his face for a hint of humor, a sign that this was some elaborate joke. “Very funny. You saw my books—” I gestured toward the shelves lining the wall “—and decided to mess with me. Great prank, really.”

“It’s true, Stella,” Jaxon said, his voice quiet but steady as he took another step forward.

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head as I stumbled back, collapsing onto the couch behind me. “This isn’t real.” My elbows rested on my knees, and I buried my face in my hands. My breath was coming in short, shallow gasps now. “You’re still dreaming, Stella,” I murmured to myself, my voice barely audible. “It’s okay. You’ll wake up soon, and everything will be fine again.”

The warmth of Jaxon’s hands on my legs pulled me out of my spiral, but the contact sent a jolt through me. I flinched violently, yanking my legs up onto the couch and curling into myself.

“Don’t touch me!” I cried, my voice breaking. My arms wrapped around my knees, and I buried my face there, shutting out the room, shutting out the men, shutting out everything. “This is crazy. This isn’t happening. Werewolves don’t exist.”

Jaxon knelt on the floor in front of me, his voice soft and soothing as he said my name. “Stella, please. Look at me.”

His tone was so gentle, so full of sincerity, that I found myself lifting my head, despite every instinct screaming at me not to. My tear-filled eyes met his caramel gaze, and I saw no mockery there, no trace of a lie.

“This is not a dream,” he said, his words measured and calm. “This is reality, and this is really happening.” He lowered himself further, sitting back on his heels, his hands resting flat on his thighs. “You have nothing to be afraid of. Neither of us would ever hurt you. Ever.”

I stared into his eyes, the very eyes that had comforted me not so long ago. The same eyes that had made me feel safe and understood, that had listened to me ramble about history and folklore, that had held me in their warmth. But now… now those eyes were different.

Something was shifting there, something primal and ancient that I couldn’t begin to understand. It wasn’t just fear that filled me as I looked at him. It was something deeper, something raw and overpowering, a sensation that twisted my heart and tightened my chest.

I felt a strange pull toward him, a magnetism that I couldn’t fight. It was terrifying and mesmerizing all at once, like standing at the edge of a cliff and feeling the urge to jump—not out of despair, but because of the thrill, the sheer gravity of it.

Jaxon’s gaze never wavered, his caramel eyes locked on mine with an intensity that seemed to reach into my very soul. “I need you to trust me,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper.

But could I? My mind screamed no, but my heart… my heart was saying something entirely different.