Scarlet's POV
A thrill coursed through me, sharp and sweet. Everything is falling into place.Sitting across from Kieran and the silent Kayden, I maintained a look of gentle appreciation, though inwardly I was calculating their every resistance, every forced smile. They were trying. Trying so hard to be welcoming to their fated mate.
But the effort was palpable. The resistance was almost charming.
No matter. I have all the time in the world to break it. To make them crave me.
Then, footsteps. I turned, and my breath caught—just enough to seem flustered and delighted. Keith. The most resistant. The most challenging..
He stood there, holding roses. How… predictably sentimental. A slow, radiant smile spread across my lips. "You're back… Mr. Keith," I said, letting just a hint of shy admiration color my tone.
His gaze was icy, detached.
"Are those for me?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.
He simply handed them over. No words. Typical.
I took them, bringing the blooms to my nose. "They're beautiful. Thank you."
"Have you been treated well?" His voice was flat, uninterested.
"Oh, yes," I gushed, glancing warmly at Kieran and Kayden. "Your brothers have been wonderful company."
Silence fell. Heavy and Uncomfortable.
I gracefully returned to my seat and patted the space beside me on the sofa, a clear invitation for him to join me. But he didn't. He moved to sit with his brothers. A slight sting of irritation pricked my pride, but I buried it beneath another serene smile.
Soon, I promised myself. Soon you won't be able to resist sitting at my feet.
I clasped my hands delicately in my lap, my voice softening into a tone of heartfelt sincerity.
"I truly have no words to describe how happy I am," I began, my eyes glistened. "To have found all of you… my mates. I've always admired you from afar—the way you command your empire, your unique strengths…" I let my gaze sweep over each of them, lingering just a moment longer on Keith. "The Moon Goddess has truly blessed me."
Keith's question was a formality, his tone as warm as a midwinter frost. "How was your journey?"
"It was perfectly fine, thank you for asking," I replied, layering my voice with just the right amount of warmth and grace. "But what I truly want is to start knowing my mates better." I let my gaze drift over each of them, holding their eyes for a meaningful moment. "I've known you as impressive business partners, of course. But now… now we can truly know one another."
And I meant it. I love them. I have for years. This isn't just about power or position—though those are delightful perks. This is about finally having what I've obsessed over, what I've meticulously studied.
I know Keith prefers his coffee black with one precise sugar cube. I know Kieran secretly loves terrible action movies. I know Kayden, though silent, communicates volumes through his art when no one is watching.
I know their favorite weapons, their battle strategies, the names of every rival they've ever crushed.
I know the kind of woman they need: not a simpering follower, but a queen. Confident. Strong. Unbreakable. And that is exactly what I am and will always be. I am no ordinary werewolf; I am a product of calculated design, and I will be the perfect fit for their legendary lives.
Keith's response was predictably dismissive. "We have time to become acquainted. For now, just consider this your home."
I inclined my head in agreement, the picture of gracious compliance. The conversation shifted to business, and finally I saw a spark of life in them.
Their focus sharpened, their postures shifted from reluctant hosts to strategic masters.
Let them be kings in the boardroom. Soon, they will kneel in the bedroom.
All too soon, they claimed to have matters to attend to. It was a blatant dismissal, a refusal to extend our time together. Annoyance flickered hot and sharp in my chest, but I smothered it instantly, replacing it with an understanding smile. "Of course. I wouldn't want to keep you from your important work."
Alfred had previously shown me my room. It was spacious, opulent, everything one would expect. But it felt like a gilded cage at the end of their hall, far from their own rooms.
I closed the door and leaned against it, the pleasant mask dissolving. Their coldness is a challenge. A puzzle. And I have already memorized all the pieces. Their resistance is temporary. I know them better than they know themselves.
They will love me. They will. It is simply a matter of applying the right pressure to their weakest points. And I am an expert at finding weakness.
***
The next day
Steam curls around me as I step from the bath, the plush mat soft beneath my feet.
I stop before the tall, gilded mirror, admiring the reflection that stares back. Every curve, every line, is a testament to power and perfection.
Scarlet Valois.
The name alone carries the weight of generations. My family's wealth and influence stretch across the globe, a legacy built not just on money, but on the primal strength of our lineage.
We are the third most powerful werewolf bloodline in the world, and I am its sole heir. The Valois empire—countless million-dollar companies, estates, and loyalties—will be mine alone. It has always been meant for me.
And now, so will they.
Other women may fantasize about the Vexxon brothers—Keith, Kieran, Kayden—but I alone possess them. Or soon will. My eyes drift down to the strand of the slim waist beads encircling my hips.
They gleam subtly in the light, delicate yet potent. These are no mere adornments. They are carefully crafted charms, woven with dark intention and rare magic. It took me years to find a witch old and powerful enough to create them, and even longer to perfect the spell.
The brothers feel the pull of the mate bond because of the waist beads. The more time they spend near me, the deeper the bond will root itself into their souls, convincing them—and their wolves—that I am their destiny.
They will love me fiercely, obsessively, exactly as I have always dreamed.
But the witch warned me of one vulnerability: if the brothers were to cross paths with their true fated mate and form a genuine connection, the charm's influence would slowly unravel.
A slow, cold smile touches my lips. That will never happen.
I will ensure that every woman who so much as glances their way is removed from the equation long before she becomes a threat.
And if by some chance their true mate does appear… well, I specialize in making problems disappear permanently.
The thought sends a thrill through me—sharp, dark, and utterly arousing.
Forever is such a satisfying word. And soon, it will belong to me.
I slipped into a dress that clung to every curve, the neckline plunging just enough to hint at what was mine to offer. As I fastened the final clasp, my phone vibrated on the vanity. A slow, satisfied smile spread across my lips. Right on time.
My properties have arrived.
I made my way to the ground floor, the click of my heels a confident rhythm on the marble.
Pushing the grand front door open, I saw the van idling in the driveway. Alfred stood nearby, his posture as rigid and proper as ever.
"Good morning, Alfred," I purred, not missing the way his warm smile didn't quite reach his eyes. I didn't care.
"Good morning, Miss Valois."
"Where are my mates?" I asked, scanning the empty grounds.
"They've already stepped out for the day, miss."
"Oh." I let a flicker of disappointment show. What a shame they wouldn't see me like this—radiant, powerful, theirs.
But patience has always been my strongest virtue. We have nothing but time.
Alfred's gaze drifted toward the workers unloading boxes from the van. "Might I ask what all of this is?"
"Just some personal items," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "Things very special to me. I can't possibly be without them."
He nodded, though his expression remained unreadable. We stood in silence as men carried box after box into the house.
I directed them upstairs to my room, my heart beating a little faster with each one that passed.
Then came the three tall, slender boxes. My pulse thrummed. "Those—place them against the far wall. Carefully."
Once everything else was unpacked and arranged to my perfection, I pointedly instructed the workers, "Do not open those. I will handle them myself."
With the door finally closed and locked behind the last worker, I was alone. The air hummed with anticipation.
I approached the first tall box, my fingers trembling with excitement—not with nerves, but with raw, devouring possession.
I sliced through the tape and pulled back the packing material.
There he was. Keith. Perfectly rendered in silicone and lifelike detail, his coldly handsome features frozen in a way I would soon bring to life.
My obsession, my love, so deep I had commissioned dolls of all three brothers years ago. I've practiced with them, imagined their touches and their dominance.
I've rehearsed every possible scenario of how it will be when they finally take me, all together, as one.
No other man has ever touched me. I've saved myself, my body, my devotion, entirely for them. Only them. Forever.
And soon, the rehearsals will be over. The real performance will begin.