Fated and Claimed by Four Alphas

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~Eryx's POV~

I was still leaning on the kitchen counter, a bottle of water forgotten in my hand, staring at the sunlight filtering through the half-open blinds like it might give me answers.

It didn't.

All it gave me was more time to think—and thinking was the last damn thing I needed right now.

Her lips. Her weight on my lap. That tiny smile she tried to hide after I fed her.

Gods…

I ran a hand down my face, trying to breathe through the tangled mess in my head. I'd kissed her. Not a real kiss, no. Just a lick. A taste. But that was enough. Enough to make my blood burn with questions I didn't want to answer.

She's your sister.

'She's not,' I argued with my thoughts.

She's your family.

Then why the hell did it feel like I was in love with her?

My phone buzzed on the counter. I barely looked at the screen before answering. "Yeah?"

"It's Kaius, you dimwit," came my brother's reply. "Got a minute? It's our sister."

I straightened. His voice wasn't laced with anger or stress—thankfully—but there was a tightness to it. Urgency? Caution?

"What's wrong? Is it Spring? Is she okay?" I asked quickly, alarm sliding through me like ice.

"What? No, no. Relax," Kaius said, sounding like he was driving. "This isn't bad news. In fact, it's the opposite."

I blinked. "Okay…?"

He paused, as if trying to build suspense, which only made my nerves worse.

"Kaius."

"Alright, alright. It's about Spring."

My heart tripped over itself. "What happened? Did someone mess with her again?"

"No, you idiot," he said with a chuckle. "She passed."

I froze. "Passed what?"

"The independent assessment. The one the principal arranged to test her abilities. Apparently, she blew everyone away—scored 147 out of 150. Got top-tier marks in her other tests, too. One of her professors—Elysa—called me personally."

I blinked again, slower this time. "Wait… seriously?"

"She's in Class 3A now. As in, officially transferred. No more repeater status. She's back where she belongs."

A grin started pulling at the corners of my mouth. I couldn't stop it if I tried. My chest swelled with something wild and proud.

"That's my girl!" I said, laughing as I slammed the bottle down on the counter. "Knew she'd wreck their ranking system. Knew it."

"Yup," Kaius replied. I could hear the smile in his voice. "She's proving everyone wrong."

"Hell, she's not just proving them wrong—she's rewriting the damn rules."

There was a pause, the kind that came before something heavier.

"Anyway," Kaius said slowly, "we… need to talk."

My smile faltered. "About?"

Another pause.

"Kaius," I said with a warning tone. "Spit it out."

He cleared his throat. "You and Spring."

I went still.

Kaius kept going, "Look, I've been noticing some things lately, and while I haven't said anything because I know you—hell, we all grew up together—I think it's time we addressed it."

I frowned, pacing a little. "Kaius…"

"You need a girlfriend."

The words hit me like cold water. "What?"

"I'm serious."

"No, back up. What does that have to do with—"

"You need someone. Someone not named Spring. Someone not your adoptive sister."

"I know who she is," I snapped.

"Do you?" he asked mildly. "Because I saw the way you looked at her this morning."

I fell silent, my jaw clenched.

Kaius sighed. "Look, I'm not judging you, Eryx. But I am worried. This… whatever's going on in your head, it's gonna end one of two ways—ugly or worse."

"It won't," I lied, but even I had a hard time believing it.

"Lies you keep telling yourself. Which is why I'm setting you up."

I blinked again. "Setting me up for what?"

"A blind date."

I nearly choked. "Hell no."

"Hell yes."

"Kaius…"

"It's already done. Friday night. Her name's Elle. She's smart, pretty, and—bonus—she's not your sister."

"Kaius, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me is that I love my brother and I know when he's spiralling."

"I'm not spiralling," I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair.

"You're in love with Spring."

That shut me up.

The silence stretched between us like a wire pulled too tight.

"…I'm not blind, Eryx," Kaius said quietly. "And I'm not gonna sit here and let you implode without trying something. So, go. Talk. Laugh. Breathe. Maybe you'll even like her."

"I won't."

"You don't know that."

"She's not Spring."

"And Spring's not yours," Kaius replied, softer this time. "Let her go, brother. Before this gets harder for everyone."

He hung up, leaving me to my thoughts.

I stood there, phone still in my hand, knuckles white around it.

HE WANTED ME TO… Let her go?

The problem was—I wasn't sure I could.

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~Spring's POV~

"…So basically, they're not that different from hyenas in a wolf's coat," I said, pacing slowly in my room as Tyrion laughed from the other end of the line.

"You mean your entire senior class?" he asked, amusement dripping from his voice.

I sighed dramatically. "Yes, my entire class. One moment they want to bite your head off for daring to exist, the next they're trying to sit beside you in the lunchroom and ask about your 'study techniques.'"

"Well," he said with a slight hum, "you did roast them academically. With style."

"Not intentionally," I muttered.

"Still," he added warmly, "you should be proud. I am. You walked into a room full of wolves who doubted you and came out with your fangs still gleaming."

I felt my cheeks heat a little, but I was grateful he couldn't see it. "Thanks, Tyrion."

There was a pause. Then his voice lowered a little, softer, intimate.

"I want to take you out."

That caught me off guard. I stopped pacing. "Out?"

"To celebrate," he said. "Nothing dramatic. Just us. Something to remind you that this moment matters."

I hesitated for only a second, heart doing that annoying flutter thing it had gotten used to doing around him. "Okay… yeah. I'd like that."

He let out a breath like he'd been holding it in. "Good. That makes me—" he stopped himself, then chuckled— "That makes me very happy."

A smile played on my lips as I dropped onto the edge of my bed. "So… what do you do when you're not motivating girls to destroy academic records and fend off bullies?"

He gave a thoughtful hum. "Well, I'm into bike racing."

That surprised me. "Seriously? Like, leather jackets and dangerous corners kind of bike racing?"

"Exactly that," he said with a laugh. "It's… my thing."

My curiosity sparked instantly. "How did you get into that?"

Tyrion grew quiet for a moment. His voice, when it came next, was lower, almost distant. "My older sister. She used to ride. A lot. Like she was born for it. I wanted to be just like her."

I softened. "What happened?"

"Our parents were against it," he said quietly. "They hated the danger. After she died in an accident, it became a sore subject. No one mentions her anymore."

I swallowed gently. "I'm sorry, Tyrion."

"It's okay," he murmured. "Riding helps me clear my head. I do it in secret now. Just me, the wind, and the road."

A pause. Then I said, "I'd love to ride with you someday."

There was a beat of silence on his end before he chuckled, the warmth returning. "That'll be another date then. Just promise not to scream when we hit 180."

"No promises," I laughed.

As we talked, the doorbell suddenly rang from downstairs. I glanced toward it with a frown. "Hold on. I think Rhys forgot something. Let me get the door."

"I'll wait," Tyrion said easily, still on the line.

I padded down the steps, still holding my phone to my ear as his voice teased, "By the way, your side profile is stunning."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Stop being ridiculous—"

And then I opened the door.

And froze.

Standing there like a character out of some bad-boy romance novel was a man I had never seen before. His light-fitted blue jeans hugged his long legs with practiced carelessness. He wore a black fitted inner shirt beneath a white, striped long-sleeved one—unbuttoned and tucked in only at the front, the back loose. His sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearms, showing off the faint ridges of muscle and a gold bracelet on his right wrist. He had two piercings in his ear and a thin gold ring clipped on the top. A matching chain hung loosely around his neck. His chiseled chest peeked from beneath the black shirt, like he knew exactly what effect it had.

My gaze trailed slowly up from his boots to his belt, to his jawline. And then finally to his face.

Sharp, handsome, arrogant.

He smiled.

I smirked, mirroring his expression instinctively.

Tyrion's voice came through the speaker. "Nice one, love. You don't like him."

I didn't say anything. The guy frowned briefly—probably hearing the voice.

Then he inhaled, masked his frown, and presented me with a bouquet of red roses wrapped in black and silver lace. "Hello."

"Who are you," I asked flatly, "and how may I help you?"

He paused, then grinned again. "Straightforward. I like that."

"Yes. This girl's busy."

"Well," he said, straightening his posture with irritating confidence, "if Dr. Rhys had told me he had such a lovely damsel in his home, I'd have visited sooner."

"Back off," came Tyrion's low, warning growl from my phone.

I lifted the phone and smiled at Tyrion. "I'll call you back."

He didn't argue. "Alright. Be careful."

I lowered the phone and focused on Mr. Overdressed Stranger. "So you know my brother?"

He gave a slight bow. "My name's Neil. I came bearing gifts for your brother. From my father."