Stolen Fate: Bound to Seven Alphas

WILLA

I pushed myself to my feet, brushing my palm against my skirt. The sting lingered, intense but manageable.

Glancing around, I let out a small breath. At least no one had seen that.

The area was empty. Most people were probably in class, and for once, I was grateful for it. I would have died of embarrassment if anyone had witnessed what just happened.

I continued toward the parking lot. When I got there, it was deserted. No Mom. No Dad. Not even Rachel.

I paused, scanning the area again. Maybe they were hiding somewhere, waiting to jump out and scare me.

No. That kind of playful nonsense was reserved for Rachel. I had never been included in anything like that.

Not once. Or they had gone to the administrative office instead. That sounded far more likely.

I could already imagine it, them speaking to Headmaster Alaric, laying out whatever version of the truth suited them, making me look like the problem before I even had the chance to explain myself.

A thousand possible accusations ran through my mind, each worse than the last. My breath hitched when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I froze. My throat went dry as my eyes dropped to it.

The hand was slim, the nails uneven, some bitten down, others broken. For a second, I almost laughed.

They looked exactly like mine most days. But not my mother’s. Never Rachel’s.

They always kept theirs perfect, polished, flawless. Saturdays were reserved for manicures and pedicures without fail.

So this couldn’t be—

"Elyse?"

I exhaled sharply at the familiar voice. Whitney.

Relief washed through me as I turned, already forcing a smile into place.

"Hi," I said softly, then quickly added, "Mom."

Whitney’s expression softened into a fragile smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She sniffed, trying to hold them back, and for a second, I wondered if I had said something wrong.

She pulled me into a warm embrace, breathing me in like she needed reassurance I was really there, then drew back just as quickly.

The softness vanished from her face. Concern took its place.

She grabbed my hand, her eyes locking onto it. "You’re bleeding."

"It’s just a small cut," I said lightly, brushing it off.

"We’re getting that cleaned," she insisted.

"I’m fine, Mom," I tried again.

Whitney stopped walking and looked straight at me, her gaze firm. "I’m your mother, Elyse. I don’t care how small it is. Seeing you hurt—anywhere—upsets me."

Something inside me shifted. Warm. Unfamiliar.

The fear that had been sitting in my chest faded, replaced by something softer, something I didn’t quite know how to handle.

Would I ever get used to this? Probably not.

For eighteen years, no one had ever cared like this. Not until I got here.

Enjoy it while it lasts, Willa, I told myself quietly.

Because if there was one thing life had taught me, it was that nothing good ever came without a price.

And when Elyse came back, I would have to pay for it.

"Come on," Whitney said gently. "Your father is waiting."

She tightened her hold on my hand and guided me toward the far end of the parking lot.

A sleek black car waited there, its tinted windows hiding everything inside. I didn’t know much about cars, but even I could tell it was expensive.

The door opened. I noticed polished Oxford brogues first, then the man himself.

Steven. He stepped out, adjusting the front of his suit jacket with practiced ease.

"We’re here," Whitney said.

Steven’s gaze settled on me, studying me for a moment.

I offered an awkward smile, instinctively looking away from the intensity of it. I expected him to do the same.

Instead, he closed the distance and pulled me into a hug. His arms were firm, steady, grounding.

I drew in a quiet breath, catching the faint scent of his cologne before slowly letting it out.

The embrace lingered longer than Whitney’s. Long enough that I started to wonder if he would let go at all.

When he finally did, his eyes moved over me, assessing, taking in every detail. I resisted the urge to shift under the weight of it.

Being Elyse must be exhausting. This constant scrutiny, this level of attention...I wasn’t sure how she handled it.

A part of me wondered if I would have wanted this, if I had been their daughter from the start.

Maybe. It was more attention than I had ever received with the Bakers.

But not like this. Not being watched this closely. Not being examined. All I had ever wanted was something simpler.

To be seen. To be treated like a person. Not like a responsibility they had taken on out of obligation. Not like a burden they had pulled from an orphanage and never truly accepted.

"Blood," he said finally.

I let out a quiet breath and glanced at Whitney.

She gave me a pointed look, the kind that clearly said I told you so, like I hadn’t already known.

My thoughts flickered back to the jerk on the motorcycle. This was his fault. That arrogant idiot.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to encounter him again.

"I’ll have that checked," Steven said, gesturing toward the car. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

I hesitated. He seemed to notice.

"I already spoke to Headmaster Alaric," he added. "You won’t lose any more points."

That should have been reassuring. But it wasn’t. I didn’t even care about the point. It was the way he was looking at me.

Like he was holding something back. Like he was annoyed, even though his voice stayed calm and his expression neutral.

"Your headmaster filled us in on everything," Whitney said gently. "Including the bond."

She squeezed my hand lightly. "If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be. You’re not in trouble. I allowed you to go to the party in the first place. If anything, this is on me."

I frowned slightly. How could this be her fault?

She wasn’t the one suddenly tied to three boys. And not just any boys. Three of the most powerful, most talked-about ones in the academy.

So no, this wasn’t on her. It was more like bad luck on my part.

I had simply been in the wrong place at the worst possible moment.

I slid into the car and reached for the seatbelt, gripping it tightly. Before I could fasten it, Steven caught a strand of my hair between his fingers.

I flinched as he brushed it aside, his eyes narrowing as he focused on something.

Then he leaned closer.

Instinctively, I leaned back into the seat, heat rising to my cheeks as confusion flickered through me.

I wanted to ask what he was looking at, but his fingers touched the side of my neck. A jolt shot through me.

A soft gasp slipped past my lips as my eyes widened, locking onto his.

Steven pulled back immediately, as though the contact had burned him. I shuddered, my back pressing harder into the seat.

"That mark..." he began, his brows drawing together. "Is that from the bond activation?"

"Bond activation?" I repeated under my breath, my hand lifting, trembling slightly as I reached for the spot on my neck.