Bound by Fate: The Four Who Shouldn't Be Mine

The scent of blood still lingered in the air. Not real blood—just a memory. A ghost of the past that refused to fade. Years had passed since the attack, but Ana could still recall the way her mother’s warm embrace turned cold. How her father, strong and proud, crumbled under the weight of grief, following her mother into the afterlife soon after. She clutched the golden locket hanging around her neck, tracing the edges with her thumb. It was the only thing she had left of them. The last connection to a family that once felt whole. But despite her losses, Ana had never been alone. Max had made sure of that. Her older brother had taken on the role of protector, ensuring she never felt unwanted. And the pack, despite its hierarchy and traditions, had embraced her with open arms. Omegas were often seen as weak, but Ana was different. She was humble, kind, and always willing to help. The warriors greeted her with respect. The elders spoke fondly of her mother’s wisdom, saying Ana carried her spirit. Even the Alpha and Luna acknowledged her presence, a rare thing for someone of her rank. It was why, despite everything, Ana didn’t allow herself to fall apart. Weakness wasn’t tolerated, but love? Love was freely given. "Ana, hurry up!" Max’s voice echoed through the house, snapping her out of her thoughts. She turned to see him standing at the door, arms crossed, his face impassive but eyes filled with patience. "You’re gonna make us late," he added. Ana sighed, tugging on her hoodie. "Do I really have to go?" Max raised an eyebrow. "You promised." "I promised I’d think about it," she corrected, but she was already moving toward him. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy watching volleyball—she just didn’t enjoy them. Damon Blackwood. Jaxon Reed. Killian Voss. Ryder Hale. Max’s greatest rivals on the court. And her greatest tormentors. For as long as she could remember, they had picked on her, taunted her, made her feel small. Not in ways that left bruises, but in ways that still hurt. A cruel whisper in the hallway. A smirk thrown her way when she stumbled. A well-placed comment that made her second-guess herself. And Ana knew exactly why. Because of Max. They couldn’t break him—so they went after her. She had convinced herself that was the only reason. It had to be. "Earth to Ana," Max called, waving a hand in front of her face. "You’re spacing out again." She forced a smile. "Just mentally preparing myself for the disaster that’s about to unfold." Max chuckled. "You’ll be fine. Just stick with Rena and ignore them." Ana exhaled slowly. Easier said than done. The gymnasium buzzed with energy, the sounds of sneakers squeaking against polished floors mixing with the roar of excited voices. The entire pack had gathered for the match—Redmoon Pack versus the Nightfangs. But Ana only cared about one team. She spotted Max instantly. He stood tall in his jersey, stretching his arms as he exchanged a few words with his teammates. He looked confident, determined. He always did. Her gaze flickered to the other side of the court. Damon Blackwood was the first to catch her eye. He stood at the center, arms crossed, his stormy grey eyes locked onto Max like a predator waiting to pounce. Next to him, Jaxon Reed smirked at something Killian Voss muttered, his golden eyes glinting with mischief. Killian, ever the quiet one, only nodded, his dark green gaze unreadable. And then there was Ryder Hale. The wildcard. The reckless one. The one who thrived on chaos. He twirled the volleyball in his hands, blue eyes flicking toward Ana for the briefest moment before he tossed the ball into the air and caught it effortlessly. Her stomach twisted. "They’re looking at you again," Rena whispered beside her. Ana clenched her jaw. "They always do." Rena nudged her playfully. "Maybe they have a crush on you." Ana scoffed. "Yeah, right." "Hey, love and hate are two sides of the same coin," Rena mused. "You never know." Ana shook her head. "No. I know exactly what this is. They hate Max, so they torment me." Rena hummed as if she didn’t quite believe it. The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. Ana turned her attention back to the court, doing her best to ignore the lingering stares from across the net. But something about tonight felt different. The tension in the air wasn’t just competitive—it was charged. And Ana had a terrible feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worse. The game started fast. Max and his teammates moved with sharp precision, their bodies a blur as they worked together to block, spike, and serve with practiced ease. The Nightfangs were just as skilled, but what made them dangerous wasn’t just their technique—it was their ruthlessness. And leading that charge was Damon Blackwood. The moment he leaped into the air for a spike, Ana could see why the pack admired him. His strength was undeniable, his movements effortless. The ball slammed against the floor on Max’s side of the court, sending a sharp echo through the gym. The Nightfangs scored. Jaxon clapped Damon on the back, flashing a triumphant grin. "That was almost too easy." Max scowled, rolling his shoulders before getting into position. Ana’s stomach twisted. She had seen this rivalry play out a hundred times, but tonight, something about it felt off. The tension between Max and the four boys wasn’t just competition—it was personal. And it was about to explode. The next serve came fast. Max lunged forward, barely saving the ball, sending it high into the air for his teammate to spike. But before the ball could be hit, Ryder Hale’s body twisted mid-air, his arms swinging with a little too much force. The ball shot forward. Straight at Max’s face. The impact was brutal. The sound of leather meeting skin echoed through the gym as Max staggered back, his head snapping to the side. A sharp gasp rippled through the crowd. Ana shot to her feet, her pulse hammering. Max wiped his mouth, eyes blazing with fury as he turned toward Ryder. "The hell was that?" Max snapped. Ryder grinned, tossing the ball between his hands. "Oops. Slipped." Ana saw it for what it was—a blatant taunt. Ryder was trying to get under Max’s skin, and judging by the way Max’s muscles tensed, it was working. "Stay focused," one of Max’s teammates muttered, gripping his arm. Max exhaled sharply, shoving the frustration down. "I’m fine. Let’s keep playing." But Ana knew her brother. He wasn’t fine. And neither was the game. The tension on the court turned razor-sharp. Max was on edge, and the Nightfangs knew it. They kept targeting him—small nudges, taunting smirks, whispered words that made his jaw clench. And then it happened. Max jumped for a block, barely deflecting the ball when Damon suddenly shoved him mid-air. Max hit the floor hard. The gym erupted. Shouts. Gasps. The sound of sneakers scuffing against the polished wood as players from both teams rushed toward each other. Max was up in a flash, shoving Damon back. "What the hell is your problem?" Damon smirked. "You." That was all it took. Max swung first. Chaos exploded. Jaxon grabbed Max’s jersey, yanking him back, but Max threw an elbow, knocking Jaxon away. Killian stepped forward, his expression unreadable, but his fists clenched. Ryder, laughing like the reckless i***t he was, took a swing. Ana moved without thinking. One moment, she was standing by the bleachers. The next, she was in the middle of it all. The instant she stepped in front of Max, the world slowed. Ryder’s arm was mid-swing, his knuckles aimed straight for Max’s jaw—except now, Ana was there. The impact landed against her cheek with a sharp crack. Silence. Absolute, stunned silence. For the first time in her life, she saw something she had never seen before—fear in Ryder’s eyes. His hand hovered in the air as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done. His mouth parted, but no words came out. Damon’s smirk vanished. Jaxon’s eyes widened. Even Killian, the most composed of them all, looked utterly frozen. Max’s reaction was instant. He lunged at Ryder with a roar, but Ana grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Max, no!" Her brother’s breathing was ragged, his entire body trembling with barely contained rage. "Ana—" His voice cracked. "You—why did you—" "I’m fine," she whispered, despite the sting spreading across her face. "Just—please, stop." The emotions behind Max’s eyes shattered something inside her. Because Max never broke. But right now, he was breaking. Because of her. She had always known she meant the world to him, but in that moment, she felt it. And it hurt. Ana slowly turned toward Ryder, pressing a hand against her cheek. He still hadn’t moved, his expression unreadable. Then, Damon stepped forward, eyes locked onto her. "Ana—" His voice was low, controlled. Too controlled. But before he could say more, the Alpha’s voice boomed across the gym. "Enough!" The authority in his tone sent a ripple of submission through the room. The fight was over—for now. Max was still shaking, his fists clenched at his sides. He shot one last glare at Damon, Jaxon, Killian, and Ryder before turning to Ana, his voice barely holding together. "Let’s go." Ana hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the four boys. They were still staring at her. But this time, it wasn’t amusement. It was something else. Something Ana didn’t understand. And for the first time, a terrifying thought crept into her mind. What if they weren’t just her enemies?