A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Maria.

The morning felt heavier than usual, the sunlight creeping through my window seemingly more insistent, more glaring. The third day of the competition had arrived, and with it, the uneasy weight of expectation and dread.

I sat on the edge of my bed for a moment, staring blankly at the floorboards, my mind spinning with thoughts I didn’t want to entertain. Each day that passed brought me closer to the outcome I feared yet secretly longed to see.

I had no patience for the stifling walls of this pack house anymore. Each corridor felt like a cage, each glance from the rogues or Alphas a reminder that I was caught in a game I never asked to play.

All I wanted was a place where I could breathe freely, where my decisions were my own, and where I could stop feeling like a prize on display.

With a frustrated sigh, I swung my legs off the bed and forced myself to move. The ritual of preparing for the day grounded me a little. Water ran warm over my skin, washing away some of the tension I had carried from the previous rounds.

The familiar routine, dressing, brushing my hair, slipping into the clothes I had chosen for the day, offered a small, fleeting sense of control over my life, even as the competition loomed large.

By the time I stepped out of my room, the corridors already hummed with the quiet energy of the early morning. Servants hurried past with trays and supplies, their movements efficient, practiced. Rogues whispered in the corners, likely speculating about the day’s events.

I walked briskly, my shoes clicking against the stone floor, my mind set on one destination: the arena.

When I arrived, the usual buzz of the crowd greeted me. Seats were already filled, and the air smelled faintly of dust, sweat, and tension.

The Alphas were gathered together, their presence commanding, a silent reminder of the hierarchy that ruled this place. I found a spot near the middle, trying to blend in, though I knew my eyes would inevitably wander to the contestants themselves.

Adrien stood at his mark, representing the Quadruplets this round. My stomach twisted at the sight of him, a cold, familiar dread settling in. Memories of his actions, of the pleasure, fear and anger he had stirred in me, surfaced unbidden.

The shiver that ran down my spine was both involuntary and telling. His eyes locked onto mine with a focus that made me instinctively look away. I couldn’t allow myself to meet that gaze, not now, not here.

Instead, my eyes sought out Noah. Relief and warmth surged through me when I spotted him standing calmly, prepared, his gaze scanning the arena with that quiet confidence that had always unsettled me in the best way.

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips, unbidden. Seeing him here, unshaken, reminded me why I still held onto hope, why I still wished for a future beyond these walls.

Beta Torin’s voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd, pulling me back to the present. "We proceed to the third round now. The contestant with the highest number of arrows that hits the bull’s eye will emerge as the winner. You have just ten seconds to keep shooting." His words were measured, precise, carrying the weight of authority.

The tension in the arena thickened immediately as each contestant readied their bow, the anticipation palpable. I felt my hands clench, a small pulse of adrenaline in my veins, the desire to see Noah succeed swelling inside me.

At the same time, unease gnawed at my gut. Adrien’s presence, his fixed gaze, his history, all of it made this round feel heavier, more dangerous, more personal than any before.

I settled into my seat, bracing myself. The next few minutes would be a test of skill, of focus, of resolve. And deep down, I knew that no matter the outcome, my heart had already placed its bet. I didn’t need the results to know where my loyalty lay.

All that remained now was to watch, to hope, and to pray that Noah would stand strong, just as he always had.

The arena seemed to grow quieter the moment the competition officially began.

A strange stillness settled over the crowd, as if everyone instinctively understood that the next few minutes would determine everything. Even the usual murmurs and whispers faded into a tense silence.

I leaned forward slightly in my seat, my hands gripping the edge of the wooden bench without realizing it.

Across the field, the contestants stepped into position.

Adrien.

Darren.

Daniel.

Noah.

Each of them stood inside their respective boxes, bows in hand, arrows ready in the quiver strapped across their backs. The targets stood several yards away, their red bullseyes gleaming brightly under the sunlight.

The challenge sounded simple enough.

Ten seconds.

As many shots as possible.

But precision mattered.

Only the arrows that struck the bullseye counted.

I swallowed slowly, my eyes drifting across the field.

Adrien moved first.

He lifted his bow with smooth, practiced ease, his movements controlled and confident. Without hesitation, he reached back and pulled out three arrows.

The faint sound of the arrowheads sliding against each other echoed in the quiet arena.

He placed them carefully against the bowstring.

My stomach tightened.

His eyes narrowed as he aimed. For a brief moment, his gaze flickered toward the stands.

Toward me.

A chill ran down my spine instantly.

Then....

TWANG!

The bowstring snapped forward, three arrows sliced through the air in perfect formation.

The crowd held its breath.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

All three arrows struck the target.

Dead center.

Bullseye.

A wave of murmurs rippled through the spectators.

Adrien lowered his bow slowly, the faintest hint of satisfaction crossing his face.

Next was Daniel.

He stepped forward with a calm expression, pulling three arrows from his quiver just like Adrien had done. His movements were slightly slower, more careful, but still steady.

He raised his bow.

The string stretched tight beneath his fingers.

TWANG!

The arrows flew.

THUD!

The first arrow struck the red center.

THUD!

The second landed just beside it.

The third....Missed slightly, lodging into the outer ring of the target. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

A few disappointed murmurs followed from the crowd.

Daniel lowered his bow with a small sigh, accepting the result without protest.

Then Darren stepped forward.

The smug confidence he always carried was still visible on his face as he selected three arrows from his quiver.

He rolled his shoulders slightly before positioning them against the string. For a moment, he smirked toward the audience as if already anticipating praise.

Then he fired.

TWANG!

The arrows shot forward.

THUD!

The first arrow struck the bullseye cleanly.

But the second and third arrows missed their mark, embedding themselves further out along the target’s rings.

A ripple of mixed reactions spread through the stands.

Some cheers.

Some groans.

Darren lowered his bow with visible irritation, clearly displeased with the outcome.

My attention shifted immediately because now....It was Noah’s turn.

My heart began beating faster.

He stepped forward quietly, his expression calm and focused. The bandage around his arm was still visible beneath the sleeve of his shirt, and for a brief second worry flickered through me again.

But he didn’t hesitate.

Instead of taking three arrows like the others had done...He reached into his quiver and pulled out five.

The movement alone caused a stir among the spectators. Whispers spread quickly through the arena.

Five arrows.

At once.

I leaned forward even more, barely blinking.

Noah positioned the arrows against the string with practiced precision, holding them steady between his fingers.

His posture remained perfectly still.

His eyes locked onto the target.

The world seemed to pause around him.

Then....TWANG!

The bowstring snapped forward with powerful force.

Five arrows tore through the air.

My heart pounded violently in my chest as they flew across the field.

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

Every single arrow struck the center of the target.

Bullseye.

All five.

For a moment, the arena was completely silent.

Then the crowd erupted.

Cheers exploded across the stands, voices rising in excitement and disbelief. Some people even stood from their seats, pointing toward the target in amazement.

But I barely heard them.

All I could see was Noah standing there, lowering his bow calmly like what he had just done was completely normal.

Before I even realized what I was doing....I stood up.

My feet moved on their own.

Excitement bubbled up inside me as I rushed down from the stands and onto the field.

"Noah!"

The word left my lips breathlessly as I ran toward him, my heart racing with pride and relief.

I barely noticed the startled looks from the crowd or the officials nearby.

I just wanted to congratulate him.

To tell him how incredible that was.

But just as I stepped further onto the field....voice shouted suddenly, sharp and urgent.

"Maria... Watch out."