Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One

Hailee's POV

The auctioneer's gavel slammed down with a sharp crack. "Sold. To Alpha Nathan."

The crowd erupted into murmurs, shock and envy rippling like fire through the hall. My knees buckled, my arms tightening desperately around Oscar and Ozzy as the guards shoved us forward.

But instead of dragging us back to the holding cell, they led us behind the stage, through a side door where the air reeked of smoke and oil. My stomach churned with dread.

Two guards forced us into a corner, chains still biting cruelly into my wrists. "Stay here," one sneered. "Your new master will come soon."

The word master sliced through me like broken glass. My boys pressed closer, their small bodies trembling. I forced myself to stroke their hair, whispering, "It's alright… it's alright," though my voice shook just as much as they did.

And then—Nathan appeared.

The guards stiffened instantly, their arrogance vanishing as his presence swallowed the space. He said nothing, but his piercing gaze swept over us like a blade.

One guard gave a nervous laugh. "Nathan, Alpha… we appreciate your business. Fine woman you bought yourself there."

Nathan didn't so much as glance at him. His eyes were locked on me—cold, merciless, cutting through my soul without a word.

My breath caught, my chest tightening under the weight of that stare.

Then, with only a flick of his fingers, one of his men stepped forward. A towering wolf dressed in black, his face carved with severity, reached for us. The guards didn't protest. They stepped back instantly, heads bowed, as if Nathan's silence alone commanded obedience.

The man unclasped our chains and gestured us forward. Oscar and Ozzy clung to me, their little fists gripping my skirt as we obeyed.

Outside, the night air struck like ice. Cars gleamed in a perfect line, their engines purring low. One waited with its door swung open.

"Inside," the man ordered.

I climbed in with the boys, my heart hammering, my eyes searching desperately for Nathan. And there he was—walking past us, his stride long, his expression cut from stone.

But he didn't join us.

He stepped into another car.

My heart twisted painfully. Relief tangled with dread inside me. He had saved us—but I was terrified, because this Nathan felt nothing like the one I had known ten years ago.

As the SUV pulled forward and the night swallowed us whole, I couldn't tell if I was safer now… or in more danger than ever before.

Nathan didn't speak. He didn't reach for me. He didn't even look at me again.

He treated me like I was a stranger.

And somehow—that hurt more than all the years apart.

The car hummed softly as it rolled down the darkened road, city lights fading in the distance. I sat rigid in the backseat, the boys pressed close against me. My heart refused to slow. Every few seconds, my eyes darted from the tinted window to the car ahead—the one Nathan was in.

He hadn't spoken. Not a single word. Not to me. Not to the boys. Not even to acknowledge us.

Why?

Why save me only to remain silent? Was this punishment? Was he delivering me to death himself? My thoughts churned, fear twisting with guilt until it left me sick.

I clutched the boys tighter, my nails digging into my palms. Moon Goddess, please don't let this be worse than what we just escaped. Please.

The drive dragged on endlessly, until at last the car slowed. We turned into a wide driveway, lights spilling over polished glass and stone. A hotel. Not just any hotel—a place built for royalty, with guards at the entrance and sleek black cars lined in perfect order.

The doors opened. Nathan was already outside, stepping from his own car. His men flanked him like shadows, sharp-eyed, coiled in silence. He still hadn't looked at me.

"Out," one of his men ordered.

I obeyed, pulling the boys with me. My legs felt heavy, my breath shallow. Oscar squeezed my hand, his glare sharp on the wolves surrounding us, while Ozzy clung quietly to my skirt.

Nathan strode ahead, never once glancing back to see if we followed. And still—we followed. What else could we do?

Inside, the hotel glittered with gold and marble. People bowed their heads as Nathan passed, as if even the air bent to his will. His aura filled the space, suffocating yet magnetic.

He didn't pause at the desk. He didn't exchange a word. His men had already handled everything. He simply walked, tall and silent, down the long hall until he stopped at a pair of double doors.

The suite.

My chest squeezed. I swallowed hard.

The doors opened, and we stepped inside.

And there—I froze.

My heart stopped.

On the couch, pale and small beneath a blanket, sat Oliver.

"Oliver!" The scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it.

Oscar and Ozzy bolted forward, their cries piercing the silence. "Oliver!"

His eyes widened, and he stumbled up, running straight into us as we collided in a desperate embrace.

I held all three of them, sobbing as I kissed Oliver's hair, his cheeks, his face over and over. "You're safe," I whispered, tears soaking their shoulders. "You're all safe. Moon above, thank you."

We clung together, the boys pressed tight against me as if the world might tear us apart again. My sobs wouldn't stop, my hands trembling as I cupped each face, kissing their foreheads, whispering, "You're safe, you're safe, you're safe."

And then—I felt it.

The weight of his gaze.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding in my throat.

Nathan stood a few feet away, broad shoulders squared, his aura filling the room. His eyes were fixed on the boys. Watching. Measuring. His chest rose and fell too slowly, like he was fighting something deep inside.

Then his gaze stopped.

On Oscar.

The room froze as Nathan's green eyes locked on my son's. He didn't blink. Didn't move. Just stared—long, hard, searching—as though peeling away every layer, reaching for something only he could sense.

My breath caught. My grip on the boys tightened.

At last, after what felt like forever, he swallowed, straightened, and spoke. His voice, low and rough, shattered the silence.

"Follow my men. They'll take you to bathe and eat." His eyes flicked to me for a fleeting instant, sharp and unreadable, before returning to the boys. "I need to speak to your mother."

A shiver coursed down my spine.

Oscar's small voice shook as he lifted his chin, eyes wide with wonder. "Are you… are you our dad?"

The question struck the room like a thunderclap. My heart seized. My lips parted, but no sound emerged.

Nathan's jaw clenched. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving Oscar's. But he didn't answer. He couldn't.

"Go," he said instead, hoarse but firm, motioning to the guards by the door.

The boys hesitated.

Ozzy, quiet, steady Ozzy, lifted his chin, his brown eyes sharp. "You won't hurt Mama… will you?"

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Nathan's jaw flexed, his hand curling briefly at his side. Then he shook his head once—slow, deliberate, certain.

"No."

The single word was soft, yet it carried a weight that crushed my chest.

The boys looked at me, and when I gave the faintest nod, they obeyed, moving hesitantly toward the guards. The door shut behind them, leaving only me—and Nathan.