The Fake Saint's Alpha(s) (BL) Chapter 3. Four chosen alphas

AT THE SA TI

MICHAEL

My chest still burned from her words, the growl that had betrayed . My fists shook at my sides as Selene’s voice lingered like smoke.

"Two more, Michael." She said smoothly, silver eyes glinting. "Do not keep waiting."

I turned back to the rows of portraits, my throat dry. The weight of her choice the wrong choice pressed heavy on , but there was no escaping it. My gaze swept across the others, faces painted in oil and shadow, until finally I forced myself to lift a hand.

"That one." I muttered, pointing toward the golden-eyed alpha, his stance powerful and commanding.

Selene nodded once, as if humoring .

"Good. One with fire in his blood."She said.

I dragged in a breath, forcing my trembling hand to move again.

"And... him." I said at last, pointing to the wild eyed alpha whose presence felt like barely contained chaos.

Selene’s lips curved faintly.

"Two chosen. Strong choices. Perhaps you do have an eye for power after all."She said delighted.

I was about to turn away when it happened. A sharp creak split the silence. Then, from the far wall, one of the portraits slipped from its hook, falling forward with a heavy thud that echoed through the chamber. Dust rose in the lantern light. I froze. My breath caught as my eyes locked on the fallen canvas.

The face staring up at was unlike the others. Not carved with arrogance. Not brimming with fire or steel. His eyes painted though they were felt alive. Deep, storm-silver, as if they looked straight through , into every scar, every wound I carried. For the first ti since entering this cursed room, I felt not fear, not rage... but sothing else. Sothing that left staring, dumbfounded, unable to move. Selene noticed instantly. Her grin spread wide, sharp and knowing.

"Ohhh." She purred, stepping toward the fallen portrait, crouching gracefully to lift it with both hands. She turned, holding it up so the lantern’s glow caught the painted silver gaze. "This one... fascinates you."

"I-" My voice broke. "I didn’t... I wasn’t-"

She laughed softly, wickedly delighted.

"You don’t have to say it, Michael. I saw the way you looked at him. As if the world itself stopped." She leaned closer, her silver eyes glittering as she whispered. "And that, little wolf, is all the answer I need."

Selene raised the portrait high, her grin triumphant.

"So be it. He is chosen as well. Your fourth alpha."She said.

My chest twisted, shock and awe tangling inside . "But you said three-"I started.

"I changed my mind." She cut in, voice smooth and rciless."Four it shall be. The Moon Goddess does not always follow rules... and neither do I."

Her grin widened, radiant with cruel satisfaction, as the portraits around us seed to close in tighter, the painted eyes watching, judging, as though fate itself had shifted in that single mont. I couldn’t take the suffocating weight of her grin any longer. My jaw clenched so hard it ached, every nerve in screaming as she held that fourth portrait like a prize.

"You can’t keep playing with like this." I snapped, my voice raw.

"Oh, Michael." She teased, her tone maddeningly calm. "I’m not playing. I’m crafting destiny."

Her silver eyes glead, unyielding. I couldn’t stand it. Heat and fury burned through , but beneath it all, the image of those storm-silver eyes in the fallen portrait still haunted . Confusion tangled with rage until I could barely breathe. I turned away before she could see the war inside . The heavy doors creaked open beneath my hands, and I pushed through them, my boots pounding against the stone floor as I made my way back to the chambers she’d locked in. My body felt like it was burning alive with fury and sothing far worse anticipation.

I slamd the door shut behind , my chest heaving. My fists curled into the sheets of the bed, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake her silver smile from my mind... or the painted eyes of the one I’d stared at too long.

AT THE SA TI

SELENE

The echo of Michael’s footsteps faded, leaving only the portraits and my own smile behind. I lingered by the fallen fra, brushing dust from its corner as though it were a sacred relic. Silver eyes, captured in oil and shadow, stared back at with that sa storm call that had shaken Michael to his very bones.

"Zavier." I whispered, savoring the na on my tongue. "You already have him."

But it wasn’t just Zavier who thrilled . No, Michael had snarled at one, chosen two, and been undone by the fourth without even knowing why. Four threads now bound to him, four storms soon to converge. I felt like a puppeteer holding a trembling marionette, and oh, how he trembled beautifully. I drifted back to my writing desk, dipped my quill, and began.

’To Adrian, your strength is required. The chosen awaits, though he does not yet know he belongs to you. Co swiftly.’

A second, smooth and coaxing.

’To Xavier your cunning, your ambition, your hunger... they are needed. I summon you to stand beside the one fated to change everything.’

Then, my quill carved harder into the parchnt, the ink thick with intent.

’To Terrence, Alpha of Iron Fang. The boy growled your na like a curse, but curses are only proof of power. You broke his family, now you will bind his future. Co, and do not delay.’

And the last, the one I sealed with a slow, lingering smile.

’To Zavier the Silver Storm. His eyes betrayed him the mont he saw yours. He is already caught in your pull, though he cannot na it yet. You are chosen. Claim what fate has promised you.’

I sealed them one by one, pressing the Moon sigil deep into the wax, the sound of it crisp and final. My hands trembled not from nerves, but from delight. Four alphas. Four storms. And in the middle of it, my unwilling Stoneheart, too stubborn to realize he was already drowning. Leaning back in my chair, I let out a low laugh, silver eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"Oh, Michael." I murmured, "By the ti they arrive, you won’t know whether to fight ... or beg ."