Chapter 113: Falling for me?

July 18 2026, 10:14am.

The breakfast table was torturous!

For Nyx’ara, it was the worst thing she had ever been forced to endure... well, that’s besides the terrible treatment she’d been subjected to back at her old pack.

Her fork scraped painfully against her plate with every forkful of rice that she shoved into her mouth, and she did everything to avoid every one of them even though they never cared to return the favour.

While she ate, the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end, mostly because of the way all four brothers stared at her like they wanted to see straight into her soul. Even Rhys had been unforgiving enough to continuously put bits of chicken and beef into her plate whenever he felt like she was ’under-eating."

Her body shook with rage and embarrassment, and upon realizing that they wouldn’t stop making her uncomfortable by staring at her all through— and at the ’strange something’ on her head— she pushed her chair back and announced:

"I a-am done. Th-thank you for the food!"

Berlin’s head whipped up for a split second as soon as she spoke, and in that second, Nyx’ara did not miss the hint of confusion and worry gleaming brightly in the other woman’s eyes.

Usually, she would have tried to ask her about it but because she still could not bring herself to speak to Berlin, she turned away and headed for her room, missing the way the Alphas stared literal holes into the back of her head.

Their eyes stuck to her like iron to metal, and while to everyone, it looked like they stared so hard because of her strange new appearance, they knew the truth.

It was because they’d been tortured the entire night with dreams about her!

It was because they hadn’t spent a moment of rest the previous night. After all, images of her hot and naked kept flashing through their heads.

The dining room was so hot that it was easy for someone to hyperventilate, even with the air conditioning; and now, as she walked away, they could not help but wonder if she’d suffered the same fate they’d suffered the previous night...

If the blush that had remained on her face the entire time was a result of the illicit images flying across her head. If—

"Thank you for the food, Alpha. I think I should retire to my room now!" Berlin rushed out, her voice tearing through the heavy silence that had settled in the room.

None of them spared her a second glance as they nodded in unison, and it wasn’t until she had walked out of the room that Rhys finally pulled himself to his feet and drawled;

"I need to attend to something urgent," he said, but only he knew that the ’urgent matter’ was Nyx’ara. Only he knew that throughout the time she ate her food in silence, his mind had conjured up a million and one ways to have her in his arms.

Nyx’ara arrived at her room in record time, locking the mahogany door behind her before leaning her forehead against the polished wood. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs and her knees wobbled with the strain of keeping her body upright.

Tired, she bit against her lower lip, remembering the way the sheer intensity of their gazes had felt like a physical weight pressuring her skin, practically humming with the residual heat of the dreams that had haunted her all night. She could still feel the phantom ghost of hands on her waist, the echo of deep, dark voices whispering filthy promises in the dark— and the terrifying fear that perhaps all four of them had also shared the exact same midnight fever.

Shaking off the heat blooming in her cheeks, Nyx’ara made a beeline for her ensuite bathroom. She needed cold water. She needed to wash away the lingering sensation of being devoured by four apex predators over scrambled eggs.

She flipped on the vanity lights and leaned over the marble sink, cupping her hands under the cool stream, and—

*Splash. Splash.*

Sighing, she lifted her head to catch her breath in the mirror.

At first glance, everything looked normal. Her striking silver hair cascaded down her shoulders down to her waist like spun moonlight. But as her eyes focused, a strange shadow at the top of her skull caught her attention.

Nyx’ara leaned closer, her breath fogging the glass. She slowly raised a hand, using her fingertips to separate the silver locks right down her center part.

Her blood ran cold.

Deep at the roots, right along the central divide, her hair was not silver. It was pitch black— like an ink-dark strand of shadow creeping outward from the scalp, stark and unnatural against the surrounding pale shimmer.

It looked like an infection of darkness, twisting through the silver she had carried her entire life, and the more she stared at it like it was something forbidden, the harder her heart raced.

"W-what..." she whispered brokenly, her voice barely a whisper.

Once again, she lifted her shaky fingers to her head and—

BRRRRING!

The sudden, loud vibration of her phone against the marble counter shattered the silence like a gunshot, and because she had not expected the sound, Nyx’ara shrieked, jumping half an inch off the ground.

Panic and disbelief tangled her limbs, making her heels slick against the tile. Her feet gave out entirely, and she tipped backward into the open air, her arms flailing as gravity pulled her toward the hard bathroom floor.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the bone-rattling impact.

But for some reason, it never came.

What came instead was the feeling of strong, unyielding arms as they wrapped instantly around her waist, catching her mid-fall with effortless grace. She was hauled back against a broad, solid chest that radiated a simmering heat and the distinct scent of cedar and wood that instantly flooded her senses.

She froze.

"Falling for me already, little murderer?" a low, velvet voice purred right against the shell of her ear, his thumb brushing deliberately over the dark new strands at the top of her head. "Or are you just tired of running?"