Bonded to the brothers

Chapter 3:The Predators Lesson

Sleep didn't come. In the Blackwood Estate, silence wasn't peaceful; it was heavy, filled with the hum of high-end security systems and the restless energy of three Apex predators prowling the floors above me.

I lay in the center of the massive bed, staring at the ceiling. The midnight blue silk dress was crumpled on the floor, a discarded skin. Even after a scalding shower, my hand still burned where the air had sizzled between Silas and me. It wasn’t a physical burn, but something deeper—a mark on my soul that whispered mine every time I closed my eyes.

The walls I had built weren't just for them. They were for me. Because if I acknowledged the bond, if I let myself feel that pull, I was no longer a person. I was a tethered animal.

A floorboard creaked in the hallway.

I sat bolt upright, pulling the duvet to my chest. I didn't reach for the lamp; the moonlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows provided enough of a silver glow to see the handle of my door slowly turn.

The lock clicked—a useless mechanism against a pack that owned the very foundations of the building.

The door swung open, and a shadow filled the frame. He didn't say a word, but the scent hit me first. Rain, crushed pine needles, and a sharp, metallic heat.

Cassian.

He didn't sneak. He walked into the room with the casual arrogance of a king entering his private garden. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants. In the moonlight, the intricate tattoos snaking down his arms looked like moving shadows, and the scar across his ribs—likely from a training session with his brothers—jagged like lightning.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, my voice caught in the back of my throat.

"Checking on the merchandise," Cassian said. He didn't stop until he reached the edge of the bed. He sat down, the mattress dipping significantly under his weight. He was too close. The heat coming off him was like a furnace, making the air in the room feel thin.

"I’m not merchandise. Get out."

Cassian leaned forward, his amber eyes glowing in the dark. Shifters’ eyes always betrayed them when their wolves were close to the surface. "You have a sharp tongue for someone who was trembling at dinner. Silas might be content to play the long game, little bird, but I’ve never had much patience for waiting."

He reached out, and before I could flinch, his hand was in my hair. He didn't pull, but his fingers were tangled deep in the strands, anchoring me in place. "You smell like fear. And arnica. Jude told me he helped you."

"He was being decent. You should try it."

Cassian’s laugh was a low, guttural sound. "Jude isn't decent. He’s a spider. He wants to watch you weave your own web so he can see how you look when you're trapped. I’m much simpler."

He leaned in, his nose brushing against the pulse point in my neck. I froze, my heart hammering so hard I thought it would shatter my ribs. "I want to hear you admit it."

"Admit what?"

"That you feel it," he growled against my skin. "The way your blood hums when I’m near. The way your wolf is scratching at your ribs, begging to be let out so she can run with us."

"I don't have a wolf like yours," I hissed, though it was a lie. Everyone in our world had a spirit, but mine had been dormant, suppressed by the trauma of the last year. "And I don't feel anything for you but disgust."

Cassian’s grip tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to make me gasp. "Liar."

He moved with a sudden, blur-like speed, pinning me back against the pillows. He didn't use his full weight, but the sheer size of him was overwhelming. His hands were on either side of my head, his chest inches from mine.

"Tell me to leave," he challenged, his voice a low vibration that traveled through the mattress and into my spine. "Say the words, little bird. Tell me you don't want me here."

The words were on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to scream them. But as I looked up at him, the bond chose that moment to strike. A wave of intense, irrational longing crashed over me. My body felt heavy, my skin sensitized to the point of pain. I wanted to reach out. I wanted to pull him closer.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper. No.

"Get. Out," I choked out.

Cassian stared at me for a long beat, his pupils blown wide until his eyes were almost entirely black. He looked less like a man and more like the predator he was. For a second, I thought he was going to ignore me. I thought he was going to take what he wanted.

Then, he let out a sharp, frustrated breath and pushed himself off the bed.

"You're fighting a losing war," he said, his voice rough. He stood by the window, his silhouette dark against the silver forest outside. "Silas thinks he can ignore it. Jude thinks he can study it. But I know what we are. We're a pack. And a pack isn't complete without its mate."

He turned back to me, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Sleep well, little bird. Tomorrow, the students won't be so gentle. And neither will I."

He left as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving the door standing wide open. I didn't get up to close it. I stayed curled in a ball, shaking, until the first gray light of dawn began to bleed through the trees.

The second day at Silver Ridge was worse.

The news had spread. I didn't know how, but every shifter on campus seemed to know that I was living in the Blackwood Estate. The whispers followed me through the corridors like a swarm of bees.

The scholarship charity case. The human-passing pet. The Triplets’ new toy.

When I walked into the student lounge to check my locker, the room went dead silent. A group of girls—Beta females from the rival Redfang pack—were huddled near the window. Their leader, a tall girl with platinum hair named Marcella, stepped forward.

"So, it’s true," Marcella said, her voice dripping with venom. "The Triplets actually brought a stray into the house. Tell me, do they make you sleep on the floor, or do you have a kennel in the guest wing?"

I ignored her, reaching for my locker.

"I’m talking to you, b***h," Marcella snapped. She slammed her hand against my locker door, pinning it shut. "The Blackwoods don't take mates from outside the elite circles. You're a placeholder. A distraction while Silas looks for a real Luna."

"If I'm so insignificant, why are you talking to me?" I asked, finally meeting her gaze.

Marcella’s eyes flashed yellow. She leaned in, her scent turning sour with aggression. "Because you're an insult to every high-ranking female on this campus. And because the Triplets aren't here to protect you right now, are they?"

She raised a hand, her nails lengthening into claws.

"That's enough, Marcella."

The voice didn't come from Silas or Cassian. It was Jude. He was leaning against the doorway, a coffee cup in one hand and a textbook in the other. He looked perfectly relaxed, but the Redfang girls scrambled back as if he had pulled a weapon.

"Jude," Marcella stammered, her bravado vanishing. "We were just... welcoming her."

"I’m sure you were," Jude said, walking into the room. He didn't even look at me. He looked at Marcella with a cold, detached curiosity. "But Silas is in a particularly foul mood this morning. He’s looking for someone to blame for a late report. If I tell him you were bothering his... property... he might decide that person is you."

Property. The word stung more than Marcella’s insults.

"We were leaving," Marcella muttered, signaling her friends. They hurried out of the lounge, casting one last hateful glance over their shoulders.

Jude stood by my locker, sipping his coffee. "You really should learn to defend yourself. You have the scent of three Alphas on you. Use it."

"I don't want your scent on me," I said, finally prying my locker open. "And I don't need your help."

"Clearly," Jude remarked. He reached out, his long fingers tapping the side of my locker. "Silas has called a pack meeting for tonight. The elders are coming to the estate. They want to see the girl who caused the 'Great Wall of Silas' to crack."

My heart sank. "A pack meeting? About me?"

"About the debt," Jude corrected. "But in our world, those are the same thing. Wear the blue dress again. It reminds Silas that he doesn't have as much control as he thinks he does."

He began to walk away, but paused at the door. "And little bird? Try not to look so much like a victim. Wolves don't mate with victims. They mate with survivors."

He disappeared into the crowd, leaving me alone in the silent lounge.

The weight of the day pressed down on me. The "relentless campaign" wasn't just about the brothers wanting me; it was about the world they lived in demanding to see if I was strong enough to stand beside them.

I had survived the first day. I had survived the first night. But as I thought about the "Elders" and the "Ice King" waiting for me at home, I realized the cage was getting smaller.

And the predators were getting hungrier.