Under the Mistletoe with the Triplet Alphas

Fractures

The courtyard was mostly empty at this hour, shadows long against the cobblestone. Lillian lingered by the fountain, waiting for Mia, who had gone back inside to grab her books. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of pine from the surrounding woods. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound of trickling water calm her restless mind.

She didn’t hear the footsteps until Aaron was already there.

“Lillian,” his voice came, sharp in the quiet.

Her eyes snapped open. Aaron stood a few feet away, tension radiating from him. His hands were clenched at his sides, jaw rigid. There was something darker in his expression than she’d ever seen before—something desperate.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy,” she replied evenly, though her pulse quickened.

“Busy with them.” His lip curled, voice low and bitter. “You laugh with Jace. You let Ryker fuss over you. And Theo—” His breath hitched. “You look at him like he’s the only one in the room.”

Her chest tightened. “That’s not true.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Aaron snapped, stepping closer. His voice cracked at the edges, fury bleeding into anguish. “We’re mates, Lillian. You’re mine. Fate doesn’t get this wrong. So why—why do you keep choosing them over me?”

The intensity in his eyes made her step back. She forced her voice steady. “I didn’t choose anything. I never asked for this bond.”

Aaron laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “You think I asked for it? Do you think I wanted to be chained to someone who looks at other men like—” His breath broke, and he slammed his fist against the fountain’s edge. The stone cracked under the force, splinters of rock tumbling into the water.

Lillian flinched.

Aaron’s chest heaved as he stared at her, his fury warring with something rawer—fear, pain. “I can feel you slipping away from me,” he whispered. “And it’s driving me insane.”

For a moment, she saw not the arrogant boy who taunted the triplets, but someone terrified of losing her before he’d ever truly had her. It was enough to make her voice soften.

“Aaron…”

But then his gaze darkened again, and he reached out, fingers brushing her wrist. His grip tightened, just enough to remind her of the strength coiled beneath his skin. “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, voice hoarse. “Say it.”

Her breath caught. The bond between them pulsed, insistent, but her heart rebelled. “I can’t.”

Aaron’s grip faltered. For a second, he looked shattered. Then his expression hardened, snapping shut like a trap. He let go of her wrist abruptly, stepping back as though burned.

“You’ll regret that,” he said coldly, but the words trembled at the edges, betraying how badly he was unraveling.

Before Lillian could respond, another voice cut through the air like a blade.

“That’s enough.”

Theo’s tone was low, controlled, but it carried the weight of command. He emerged from the shadows at the far end of the courtyard, his stride measured, his presence magnetic in its precision. Even in the dim light, his eyes gleamed with something sharp.

Aaron stiffened. “Stay out of this, Theo.”

But Theo didn’t stop. His gaze never left Aaron as he approached, each step deliberate. “When you raise your hand at her—even in desperation—you make it my business.”

“I didn’t hurt her,” Aaron snarled, though his voice cracked under the weight of Theo’s calm.

Theo finally stopped a few feet away, his expression unreadable. “Not yet.” His eyes flicked to Lillian for the briefest moment, scanning her wrist where Aaron’s fingers had been. Then they locked back onto Aaron, cool and unyielding. “Control yourself. Or I’ll do it for you.”

Aaron’s nostrils flared. For a moment, it seemed he might fight—lash out, prove his strength. But then he saw Theo’s stance, the quiet certainty in the way he held himself. Theo didn’t need raised fists or snarled threats; his composure alone was suffocating.

Aaron’s jaw clenched. “You think you’re better than me because you can play cold? Because you can pretend none of this tears you apart?”

Theo’s lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile—it was sharper, dangerous. “I don’t pretend.”

The silence that followed was thick, suffused with unspoken truths. Lillian’s heart pounded, caught between the storm of Aaron’s jealousy and the razor-edged control of Theo’s presence.

Aaron finally broke it with a ragged exhale. “One day, she’ll see the bond for what it is. And when she does, none of your icy stares will matter.” His voice shook, but he held Theo’s gaze for a heartbeat longer before turning sharply on his heel and storming away.

The courtyard was silent again, save for the trickle of the fountain.

Lillian let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her wrist still tingled where Aaron had touched her.

Theo’s eyes slid to her, assessing. His voice was calm when he spoke, but there was an undercurrent beneath it, something unshakable. “You shouldn’t be alone with him.”

She bristled instinctively. “I can handle myself.”

Theo stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. His expression didn’t change, but the intensity in his eyes made her breath falter.

“You think strength is about who can hit hardest,” he said quietly. “It isn’t. It’s about control. And right now, Aaron has none.”

The words sank deep, settling in her chest like both a warning and a promise. She opened her mouth to argue, but his gaze pinned her in place, unreadable and yet burning all the same.

Then, without another word, Theo reached out. For a heartbeat, she thought he’d touch her face. Instead, his fingers brushed the edge of her sleeve, tugging it down slightly to inspect her wrist. His touch was feather-light, clinical almost, but the heat it sent through her was anything but detached.

His jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly. Then he let go.

“Don’t mistake his desperation for devotion,” Theo said finally, his voice like ice cutting through the night. “If he loses control again, I won’t tolerate it.”

And with that, he turned, walking away into the shadows as silently as he’d come.

Lillian stood frozen, pulse racing, the echo of his touch lingering on her skin. Aaron’s jealousy still clawed at her mind, but it was Theo’s cold certainty that haunted her most—the way he never needed to shout or rage to claim the space around her.