Breathless Between Three Alphas

POV: Tessa

I always thought finding my mate would be the happiest day of my life.

"Or the tackiest," Lyra, my wolf, scoffed, practically rolling her eyes in the back of my mind.

I was so incredibly wrong.

The annual Pack Gala was supposed to be a night of celebration.

The extravagant ballroom was suffocatingly loud, overflowing with the dizzying scents of high-ranking wolves, expensive champagne, and the suffocating weight of Alpha dominance.

I had spent hours getting ready, wrapping my body in a delicate, silver silk dress, all for him.

Tyler. My fated mate.

I had been searching for him all evening, my heart fluttering with the innocent, foolish hope of a girl who still believed in fairy tales.

When I finally pushed open the heavy glass doors of the estate's greenhouse, the humid air hit my face, thick with the scent of blooming orchids.

And the overpowering, sickening stench of lust.

I froze behind a massive fern, my breath catching in my throat.

There, on the plush velvet lounger meant for resting guests, was Tyler.

And beneath him, her skin flushed and her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, was my cousin, Mia.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to choke back the jagged scream tearing at my throat.

They were so lost in each other, so consumed by their tangled bodies and animalistic gasps, that they didn’t even notice my presence.

Tyler’s hands—the same hands that had gently held my face yesterday—were bruising Mia’s hips.

"Ew. Her? Really?" Lyra sneered, her voice dripping with absolute disgust. "So Gross"

My chest caved in.

I forced Lyra down, burying her toxic commentary under a mountain of human heartbreak.

I didn't confront them. I didn't scream.

Instead, I turned and ran.

"Ugh, fine, run away like a tragic movie extra," Lyra groaned, deeply offended by my cowardice. "But lift the dress! If you ruin this silk crying over a two-timing downgrade, I'll never forgive you."

I fled like a coward, lifting the hem of my heavy silk gown, tears blurring my vision as I stumbled back into the sprawling mansion.

I couldn't let anyone see me like this.

A beta’s daughter was already looked down upon in this ruthless hierarchy.

A beta's daughter crying over a cheating mate was nothing but fresh meat for the pack's gossip mill.

Desperation drove me up the grand staircase and down a dimly lit hallway, pushing past heavy oak doors until I found an empty, unlit VIP lounge.

It wasn't enough. I needed to hide completely.

I threw open the doors of a massive, walk-in wardrobe in the corner of the room, crawling into the pitch-black depths and pulling the heavy, expensive winter coats around me like a shield.

The darkness swallowed me whole.

I curled my knees to my chest, burying my face in my hands as the first silent, violent sobs wrecked my body.

Creak.

The sound of the lounge door being shoved open violently made my blood run cold.

Heavy, predatory footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor, moving straight toward the wardrobe.

I squeezed my eyes shut, holding my breath until my lungs burned, terrified that Tyler had somehow followed me.

The wardrobe door was yanked open halfway.

Faint, amber light from the hallway spilled into the small space, illuminating the gap between the hanging coats.

I peered through the fabric, my heart slamming against my ribs.

It wasn't Tyler.

It was Chase.

At twenty-five, Chase was the most notoriously untamed Alpha in the city.

He owned the underground fighting rings, and he moved like a predator that had just been let off a leash.

He didn't see me hidden in the shadows of the heavy coats.

He looked annoyed, rolling his broad shoulders as he let out a frustrated breath.

Without a second thought, his large, scarred hands went to his collar, roughly yanking off his silk tie and tossing it onto the floor.

Then, he gripped the hem of his black dress shirt and pulled it over his head.

My breath completely vanished.

He was standing less than two feet away from me, entirely shirtless.

The faint light danced across his torso, highlighting the sharp, brutal ridges of his abs and the powerful swell of his chest.

A thin sheen of sweat coated his skin, making the intricate, tribal tattoos winding down his ribs look almost alive.

The sheer, overwhelming force of his Alpha pheromones—sharp cedarwood mixed with raw, masculine sweat—flooded the cramped space.

"Okay, I'll admit, the abs are a solid ten," Lyra purred in my head, completely ignoring my panic to objectify him. "Way better than the garbage fire we left in the greenhouse."

It was intoxicating.

It was dangerous.

My body, already fragile from the emotional shock, betrayed me with an involuntary shiver.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from whimpering, fighting Lyra's sudden, shallow urge to step out of the shadows and touch his chest just to see if it was as hard as it looked.

The fabric of the coat I was hiding behind rustled.

Chase froze.

His head tilted slightly, his sharp, predatory eyes scanning the dark interior of the closet.

He took a step closer.

The heat radiating from his bare skin seeped through the layers of clothing, warming my tear-stained cheeks.

His large hand reached out, his knuckles lightly brushing against the sleeve of the coat that was separating my face from his chest.

The accidental friction sent a scorching spark of electricity shooting straight down my spine.

I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the humiliating moment of discovery.

"Chase? You in there?"

The drawling, aristocratic voice of Spencer echoed from the outer lounge, shattering the suffocating tension.

Chase’s hand paused.

He let out a low, rough chuckle, dropping his hand from the coat.

He grabbed a fresh shirt from a nearby shelf and walked out of the closet, leaving the door cracked open.

I exhaled a shaky breath, my body trembling violently.

But before I could figure out how to escape, a new voice pierced the air, sharp and dripping with venom.

"Ugh, this party is so boring. Did you guys see Tessa’s face earlier?"

It was Chloe.

The Alpha King’s daughter. The woman who had made my life a living hell since childhood.

"Who?" came the cold, indifferent voice of Grant, the ruthless twenty-eight-year-old billionaire who practically owned the city’s economy.

"Tessa," Chloe sneered, her heels clicking on the hardwood.

"That pathetic little Beta’s daughter. She’s walking around tonight acting like some untouchable saint, guarding her precious virginity for her mate."

A cruel, mocking laugh bubbled from Chloe's throat.

"The stupid bitch doesn't even know that Tyler has been fucking her cousin Mia for months. The whole pack knows. We’re all just waiting to see the look on her face when she finally figures it out."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

Months.

They all knew.

Everyone knew.

"A tragic little Beta," Spencer mused, his tone light and completely devoid of empathy. "Though I suppose innocence can be mildly entertaining."

"Entertaining?" Chloe scoffed. "She’s a bore. But... since we're all so bored tonight, why don't we make things interesting?"

There was a brief silence.

"I'm listening," Chase murmured, the sound of ice clinking in a glass echoing in the room.

"A bet," Chloe announced, her voice trembling with malicious excitement.

"The three of you. Whoever can take that pathetic little virgin's first time, make her fall madly, desperately in love, and then break her heart..."

She paused for dramatic effect.

"Wins me."

The air in the room seemed to shift.

"Whoever ruins her gets to claim me as their chosen mate," Chloe added, her voice dripping with extreme arrogance. "My father will bless the union. You get the Alpha King's daughter, and a direct path to the throne."

"And," Chloe whispered viciously, "she belongs to the winner too. To use, to play with, to discard however you see fit."

I waited for one of them to refuse.

I waited for the so-called honorable Alphas to tell her she was out of her mind.

Instead, a low, dark chuckle came from Spencer.

"You're offering yourself, and a crown... just to crush a Beta?"

"Are you in or out, Spencer?" Chloe challenged.

"I've never walked away from a guaranteed win," Spencer replied smoothly.

"Count me in," Chase growled, the thrill of the hunt bleeding into his voice. "I could use a new toy to break before claiming my royal prize."

"And you, Grant?" Chloe asked.

There was a long, agonizing pause.

When Grant finally spoke, his deep, authoritative voice sent a chill straight to my bones.

"Consider it done."

In the suffocating darkness of the wardrobe, something inside of me snapped.

It wasn't just my human heart freezing over; it was Lyra violently taking the reins.

"A bet? How original," my wolf drawled, practically filing her imaginary claws with a vicious smirk. "Oh, honey, they want to play games with us? Let's show these arrogant frat boys how a real bitch ruins a life."

The agonizing pain in my chest vanished.

The humiliating tears dried instantly on my cheeks, replaced by an unnatural, burning heat.

A toy to break.

A pathetic little virgin.

A stupid Beta.

They thought they were the hunters.

They thought I was just a naive, helpless prey waiting to be slaughtered for their amusement and a royal marriage.

I slowly pushed the silk sleeves of the coats aside.

I reached up and roughly wiped the remaining moisture from my eyes.

Then, I looked down at my dress.

"Lower, prude," Lyra ordered, sighing heavily at my hesitation. "Give them a show, let them think with their pants, and we'll take their crowns."

With deliberate, shaking fingers, I gripped the delicate neckline of the silver silk and pulled it down just a fraction of an inch, exposing the deep dip of my cleavage and the flushed skin of my collarbones.

I pushed the wardrobe door open.

I stepped out into the dim light of the room.

I smoothed down my skirts.

And then, I walked out of the inner room, my stilettos clicking sharply against the floor.

The conversation in the outer lounge died instantly.

Four heads snapped in my direction.

Chloe’s triumphant smirk froze on her face, twisting into ugly shock.

Chase’s glass stopped halfway to his mouth.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed into calculating slits.

And Grant…

Grant simply stared at me, his dark eyes unreadable, sitting in the center of the leather sofa like a king holding court.

I didn't look at Chloe.

I didn't acknowledge the betrayal or the sick, twisted bet I had just overheard.

Instead, I let my eyes glaze over, feigning a dizzy, uncoordinated stumble.

I walked straight past Chloe, aiming directly for the center of the room.

With a soft, helpless gasp, I tripped.

I fell forward, landing perfectly, softly, right into Grant’s lap.

"Look at the big bad billionaire malfunctioning," Lyra laughed, a high, cruel sound in my head. "Now, be a good girl and make him beg for it."

His large hands instantly clamped down on my waist to steady me, his muscles rigid beneath his expensive suit.

I shifted my weight, deliberately dragging my thigh against his, settling myself fully across his lap.

I looked up into his stunned, dark eyes.

I let my lips part, my breath hitting his jaw.

"I'm so sorry..." I whispered, my voice trembling with practiced vulnerability.

"I think I'm drunk."

I leaned in, my mouth millimeters from his ear.

"Can you help me?"