Scarlet’s POV
A thrill coursed through , sharp and sweet. Everything is falling into place.Sitting across from Kieran and the silent Kayden, I maintained a look of gentle appreciation, though inwardly I was calculating their every resistance, every forced smile. They were trying. Trying so hard to be welcoming to their fated mate.
But the effort was palpable. The resistance was almost charming.
No matter. I have all the ti in the world to break it. To make them crave .
Then, footsteps. I turned, and my breath caught—just enough to seem flustered and delighted. Keith. The most resistant. The most challenging..
He stood there, holding roses. How... predictably sentintal. A slow, radiant smile spread across my lips. "You’re back... Mr. Keith," I said, letting just a hint of shy admiration color my tone.
His gaze was icy, detached.
"Are those for ?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.
He simply handed them over. No words. Typical.
I took them, bringing the blooms to my nose. "They’re beautiful. Thank you."
"Have you been treated well?" His voice was flat, uninterested.
"Oh, yes," I gushed, glancing warmly at Kieran and Kayden. "Your brothers have been wonderful company."
Silence fell. Heavy and Uncomfortable.
I gracefully returned to my seat and patted the space beside on the sofa, a clear invitation for him to join . But he didn’t. He moved to sit with his brothers. A slight sting of irritation pricked my pride, but I buried it beneath another serene smile.
Soon, I promised myself. Soon you won’t be able to resist sitting at my feet.
I clasped my hands delicately in my lap, my voice softening into a tone of heartfelt sincerity.
"I truly have no words to describe how happy I am," I began, my eyes glistened. "To have found all of you... my mates. I’ve always admired you from afar—the way you command your empire, your unique strengths..." I let my gaze sweep over each of them, lingering just a mont longer on Keith. "The Moon Goddess has truly blessed ."
Keith’s question was a formality, his tone as warm as a midwinter frost. "How was your journey?"
"It was perfectly fine, thank you for asking," I replied, layering my voice with just the right amount of warmth and grace. "But what I truly want is to start knowing my mates better." I let my gaze drift over each of them, holding their eyes for a aningful mont. "I’ve known you as impressive business partners, of course. But now... now we can truly know one another."
And I ant it. I love them. I have for years. This isn’t just about power or position—though those are delightful perks. This is about finally having what I’ve obsessed over, what I’ve ticulously studied.
I know Keith prefers his coffee black with one precise sugar cube. I know Kieran secretly loves terrible action movies. I know Kayden, though silent, communicates volus through his art when no one is watching.
I know their favorite weapons, their battle strategies, the nas of every rival they’ve ever crushed.
I know the kind of woman they need: not a simpering follower, but a queen. Confident. Strong. Unbreakable. And that is exactly what I am and will always be. I am no ordinary werewolf; I am a product of calculated design, and I will be the perfect fit for their legendary lives.
Keith’s response was predictably dismissive. "We have ti to beco acquainted. For now, just consider this your ho."
I inclined my head in agreent, the picture of gracious compliance. The conversation shifted to business, and finally I saw a spark of life in them.
Their focus sharpened, their postures shifted from reluctant hosts to strategic masters.
Let them be kings in the boardroom. Soon, they will kneel in the bedroom.
All too soon, they claid to have matters to attend to. It was a blatant dismissal, a refusal to extend our ti together. Annoyance flickered hot and sharp in my chest, but I smothered it instantly, replacing it with an understanding smile. "Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your important work."
Alfred had previously shown my room. It was spacious, opulent, everything one would expect. But it felt like a gilded cage at the end of their hall, far from their own rooms.
I closed the door and leaned against it, the pleasant mask dissolving. Their coldness is a challenge. A puzzle. And I have already morized all the pieces. Their resistance is temporary. I know them better than they know themselves.
They will love . They will. It is simply a matter of applying the right pressure to their weakest points. And I am an expert at finding weakness.
***
The next day
Steam curls around as I step from the bath, the plush mat soft beneath my feet.
I stop before the tall, gilded mirror, admiring the reflection that stares back. Every curve, every line, is a testant to power and perfection.
Scarlet Valois.
The na alone carries the weight of generations. My family’s wealth and influence stretch across the globe, a legacy built not just on money, but on the primal strength of our lineage.
We are the third most powerful werewolf bloodline in the world, and I am its sole heir. The Valois empire—countless million-dollar companies, estates, and loyalties—will be mine alone. It has always been ant for .
And now, so will they.
Other won may fantasize about the Vexxon brothers—Keith, Kieran, Kayden—but I alone possess them. Or soon will. My eyes drift down to the strand of the slim waist beads encircling my hips.
They gleam subtly in the light, delicate yet potent. These are no re adornnts. They are carefully crafted charms, woven with dark intention and rare magic. It took years to find a witch old and powerful enough to create them, and even longer to perfect the spell.
The brothers feel the pull of the mate bond because of the waist beads. The more ti they spend near , the deeper the bond will root itself into their souls, convincing them—and their wolves—that I am their destiny.
They will love fiercely, obsessively, exactly as I have always dread.
But the witch warned of one vulnerability: if the brothers were to cross paths with their true fated mate and form a genuine connection, the charm’s influence would slowly unravel.
A slow, cold smile touches my lips. That will never happen.
I will ensure that every woman who so much as glances their way is removed from the equation long before she becos a threat.
And if by so chance their true mate does appear... well, I specialize in making problems disappear permanently.
The thought sends a thrill through —sharp, dark, and utterly arousing.
Forever is such a satisfying word. And soon, it will belong to .
I slipped into a dress that clung to every curve, the neckline plunging just enough to hint at what was mine to offer. As I fastened the final clasp, my phone vibrated on the vanity. A slow, satisfied smile spread across my lips. Right on ti.
My properties have arrived.
I made my way to the ground floor, the click of my heels a confident rhythm on the marble.
Pushing the grand front door open, I saw the van idling in the driveway. Alfred stood nearby, his posture as rigid and proper as ever.
"Good morning, Alfred," I purred, not missing the way his warm smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. I didn’t care.
"Good morning, Miss Valois."
"Where are my mates?" I asked, scanning the empty grounds.
"They’ve already stepped out for the day, miss."
"Oh." I let a flicker of disappointnt show. What a sha they wouldn’t see like this—radiant, powerful, theirs.
But patience has always been my strongest virtue. We have nothing but ti.
Alfred’s gaze drifted toward the workers unloading boxes from the van. "Might I ask what all of this is?"
"Just so personal items," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "Things very special to . I can’t possibly be without them."
He nodded, though his expression remained unreadable. We stood in silence as n carried box after box into the house.
I directed them upstairs to my room, my heart beating a little faster with each one that passed.
Then ca the three tall, slender boxes. My pulse thrumd. "Those—place them against the far wall. Carefully."
Once everything else was unpacked and arranged to my perfection, I pointedly instructed the workers, "Do not open those. I will handle them myself."
With the door finally closed and locked behind the last worker, I was alone. The air humd with anticipation.
I approached the first tall box, my fingers trembling with excitent—not with nerves, but with raw, devouring possession.
I sliced through the tape and pulled back the packing material.
There he was. Keith. Perfectly rendered in silicone and lifelike detail, his coldly handso features frozen in a way I would soon bring to life.
My obsession, my love, so deep I had commissioned dolls of all three brothers years ago. I’ve practiced with them, imagined their touches and their dominance.
I’ve rehearsed every possible scenario of how it will be when they finally take , all together, as one.
No other man has ever touched . I’ve saved myself, my body, my devotion, entirely for them. Only them. Forever.
And soon, the rehearsals will be over. The real performance will begin.
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