Bullied And Fated To TheTriplets Alphas

Beneath The Stars

Selina’s POV

When the moon was high, I dragged myself back to the training grounds. I knew I shouldn’t be straining myself, but a part of me was desperate to prove myself.

The estate was silent. Everyone had retreated to their rooms hours ago, leaving the training arena empty and bathed in silver moonlight. My muscles screamed in protest with every step, my ribs aching from where Aaron’s wolf had thrown me into the fence.

But I couldn’t sleep.

I stared at the training dummies lined up at the side of the arena—the ones kept for the kids. They were basic wooden posts wrapped in worn padding, some barely reaching my waist. I’d watched younger wolves use them for years, practicing their strikes and kicks while I sat on the sidelines, wolfless and useless.

I’d never been allowed to touch them. “What’s the point?” one of the trainers had said once. “She’ll never need combat training.”

Well, things had changed.

I walked closer to examine them. There were three adult-sized ones at the end of the row, their padding was newer, sturdier. I tilted my head, studying the first one. It was tall, broad-shouldered, with a slightly intimidating presence even though it was just wood and stuffing.

A slow smile spread across my face.

“You know what? You kind of look like Ashran.”

My wolf perked up with interest, curious about what I was planning.

I glanced around the empty arena, then jogged over to the equipment shed. Inside, among the spare padding and training weapons, I found what I was looking for—a box of markers left behind by some kids’ class.

Perfect.

I grabbed a thick black marker and returned to the dummies, uncapping it with my teeth. The first dummy definitely had Ashran energy—tall, imposing, probably thought it was better than all the other dummies.

I drew two small circles for eyes, added angry eyebrows slashing downward. A straight line for a mouth that looked displeased. Then, just because I could, I added an exaggerated frown and wrote in big letters underneath. Grumpy wolf.

I stepped back to admire my work, and something in my chest loosened. A small laugh bubbled up.

The second dummy was slightly shorter, leaner. I gave this one a cocky smirk, raised eyebrows that screamed arrogance. Alex… professional asshole.

The third dummy was trickier. Aaron was harder to pin down, his quiet intensity more difficult to capture in crude marker strokes. I settled for thoughtful eyes and a neutral expression, then hesitated on what to write.

Finally, I scrawled: silent bad wolf.

It was longer than the others, but it felt right.

I stood back, looking at my handiwork. It was childish. Absolutely beneath me. But I loved it.

“Okay, Ashran,” I said, cracking my knuckles and immediately wincing at the soreness. “Let’s try this again.”

I settled into my fighting stance—wider this time, lower, trying to remember the corrections. My wolf stirred eagerly, ready to help.

I imagined Ashran’s voice: “Pathetic. Did you learn that from a children’s book?”

My fist shot out, connecting with the dummy’s centre. The impact sent a jolt up my arm, but this time I’d kept my wrist straight..

“How’s that?” I muttered, hitting it again.

The dummy swayed but held firm. I circled it like I’d seen the triplets do during their training, remembering how fluid they were, how every movement seemed purposeful.

I tried to copy it. Failed. Then I tried again.

I moved to Alex’s dummy next. That smirking face I’d drawn seemed to mock me even in marker form.

“My grandmother moves faster than that.”

“Yeah? Well, your grandmother probably wasn’t thrown into a fence today.” I kicked the dummy, my shin connecting solidly. Pain radiated through my leg but I welcomed it. Physical pain was easier to handle than the other kind.

I hit Alex’s dummy again. And again. Losing myself in the rhythm of it—strike, breathe, reset, strike. My technique was probably still terrible. I was definitely doing everything wrong. But at least I was doing something.

At least I wasn’t giving up.

I worked through combinations I’d seen other wolves practice. Jab, cross, hook. Kick, spin, strike. Most of it felt awkward and uncoordinated, but occasionally something would click. My body would move the way it was supposed to, power flowing from my core through my limbs, and for just a second, I’d feel like maybe I could actually do this.

Then I’d overextend, or misjudge the distance, or forget to keep my guard up, and the moment would shatter.

By the time I reached Aaron’s dummy, I was breathing hard, sweat dripping down my back despite the cool night air. My muscles trembled with exhaustion.

I stared at the neutral face I’d drawn, remembering how he’d stopped the fight.

Because that was the thing about Aaron. I didn’t know what to do with him. Didn’t know if that moment of mercy meant something or if it was just guilt talking. Didn’t know if he was different from his brothers or just better at hiding the same cruelty.

I hit the dummy again, frustration building. Why couldn’t things be simpler? Why couldn’t they just be the villains or the heroes? Why did they have to be complicated?

I struck harder, putting my confusion and anger into each blow. The dummy swayed wildly on its base.

My injured hand started throbbing. I’d been favouring it, but now with exhaustion setting in, I was getting sloppy. One poorly executed punch and pain exploded through my knuckles.

“Damn it!” I stumbled back, cradling my hand.

My wolf whimpered anxiously. It hurt.

“I know, I know.” I looked down at my hand. The knuckles were split and bleeding, bruises already forming. At least two fingers looked swollen.

The adrenaline was fading fast now, leaving behind bone-deep exhaustion. My legs felt like jelly. My ribs ached with every breath.

I sank down onto the packed earth of the arena, too tired to even make it to the benches. The ground was cool against my overheated skin. I lay back, staring up at the night sky.

The stars were brilliant tonight, scattered across the darkness like someone had spilt diamonds. The moon hung heavy and bright, watching over everything with that patient, knowing gaze.

She’s watching, my wolf said softly.

I raised my good hand toward the sky, fingers spread, like I could touch those distant points of light. “Did you make a mistake?” I whispered. “Giving me to them?”

The moon offered no answers. Just continued her slow journey across the heavens, beautiful and distant and utterly indifferent to one struggling wolf far below.

My eyes started to drift closed despite my best efforts. The exhaustion pulling at every limb…it was all too much.

“Selina?”

My mother’s voice cut through the haze. I opened my eyes to find her standing over me, backlit by moonlight, her expression concerned.

“Mom?” I struggled to sit up. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” She knelt beside me, her healer’s eyes already cataloguing my injuries—the split knuckles, the swollen fingers, the bruises darkening across my arms. “Baby, what happened?”

“I was just… training.”

Her gaze shifted to the training dummies with their marker-drawn faces and labels. For a moment, I worried she’d be angry about the vandalism. Then her lips twitched.

“Professional asshole?” she read from Alex’s dummy, and a surprised laugh escaped her.

“I was frustrated,” I mumbled, heat creeping into my cheeks.

“I can see that.” She turned back to me, her expression softening. “Sweetheart, your hands are bleeding. Let me heal them.”

“I can do it myself,” I said automatically. “My wolf can—”

“Your wolf is four days old and exhausted.” Mom took my injured hand gently, her own healing energy already flowing warm and golden into my torn skin. “Let me help you.”

I watched as the splits in my knuckles slowly closed, the swelling in my fingers receding. Healing had always fascinated me, even when I thought I’d never have a wolf of my own to make it possible.

“Training went badly today,” Mom said quietly. It wasn’t a question.

“How did you know?”

“Because I know you. And because Marcus’s mother mentioned seeing you at the grounds this morning.” She finished with my hand and moved to check my ribs.