The dining room looked like something out of a gothic fever dream. Dark mahogany wood, silver candelabras burning low, and a long-ass table that could seat a small army.
I stood awkwardly at the threshold, dressed in the black dress Silas had casually laid across my bed earlier. "Wear this," his note had read, followed by a little heart. I almost burned it on principle. Almost. But I was tired of being naked and furious, so fine. I wore it.
Bad idea. The neckline dipped too low, the fabric clung too tight, and the slit ran up my thigh like an invitation.
And now here I was. Dressed like dinner. Feeling like prey.
The triplets were already seated.
Kael sat at the head of the table like he owned the air around him—ice in his posture, gold eyes unreadable. Not a hair out of place. He didn't look at me. Not right away. He didn't have to. I felt him clock me the moment I stepped in.
To his left, Riven slouched in his chair like he belonged in a biker bar, not a royal pack estate. He caught sight of me and immediately grinned, green eyes lighting up.
"Well, damn," he drawled. "Guess the dress fit after all."
"Bite me," I muttered.
He winked. "Say please."
Silas, at Kael's right, rested his chin in his hand, watching me with soft, sleepy eyes that did not match the smirk on his lips. "Come sit, darling omega. You're late."
"I'm not your omega," I snapped, but my feet still moved. Because hunger's a bitch and this whole cursed-mate situation had apparently turned my metabolism into a werewolf on steroids.
Kael finally looked up. "Sit."
Not "please." Not "would you like to." Just a command. I stopped mid-step.
"Say that again, but nicer," I said.
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You want respect? Earn it."
I almost turned and walked out. Almost. But then Silas stood, pulled out the chair beside him with mock chivalry, and gestured like a gentleman. "Ignore the ice block. He was born with a stick up his spine."
I slid into the chair, trying not to think about how closely I was boxed in—Silas on my left, Riven across, and Kael looming at the head.
The meal looked delicious. Roasted meat, fresh bread, dark wine. But my appetite drowned under the tension.
"So," I said, slicing into the silence. "Is this what dinner looks like every night? Silent threats and eye-f***ing?"
Riven snorted. "You wish."
Kael didn't flinch. "We don't usually invite outsiders to this table."
"Guess I'm special."
"You're bonded," he said flatly. "That's not the same thing."
Silas hummed beside me. "You should be flattered, Olivia. Normally, Kael eats alone. Doesn't like to share. Control freak and all."
"Enough," Kael snapped, voice low but lethal.
And just like that, the brothers went still.
The door opened again.
And in she walked.
Tall. Blond. Legs for days. Dressed in red.
"Who the hell is that?" I asked, already knowing I'd hate the answer.
"Seraphina," Riven said, clearly enjoying the tension. "Alpha's daughter from the Crimson Ridge Pack. She was supposed to be Kael's mate before you… showed up."
Kael's jaw flexed, but he didn't correct him.
Seraphina's eyes locked on mine with the kind of smile that said: I eat girls like you for breakfast.
"Olivia, right?" she purred, taking the only empty seat—right next to me. "You look… quaint."
I gave her a tight smile. "And you look like a prom queen who got lost on her way to the sacrifice pit."
Silas choked on his wine. Riven straight-up laughed. Kael looked mildly homicidal.
Seraphina just blinked. "I heard you were cursed. Makes sense. You smell… off."
"You smell like desperation and imported perfume," I shot back. "So I guess we're both a little tragic."
Kael stood so fast his chair scraped the floor.
"That's enough."
Both Seraphina and I went silent.
His gold eyes met mine, but this time there was something dangerous in them. Something possessive.
"She's not your enemy," he said, voice colder than the moonlight pouring through the window. "She's your competition."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.
He didn't answer.
But Riven did.
"Means this little triangle just became a square, sweetheart. And wolves? Wolves don't share nicely."