The night air was thick with the scent of rain, though the storm had yet to break. The Moonshine University grounds stretched empty around her, the silence pressing in like a warning. But Eila knew better. She was never truly alone.
Her breath came in shallow gasps as she backed against the cold brick wall, her pulse pounding with a mix of fear and something far more dangerous. She could feel them before she saw them—the twin forces of chaos and torment that haunted her every step.
Lukas and Zois Baldwin.
They emerged from the shadows with the kind of predatory grace that sent a shiver down her spine. Lukas's silver-grey eyes gleamed with amusement, his lips curling into that lazy, knowing smirk that always set her on edge.
Zois, ever the quieter of the two, merely watched her, his stare dark and unreadable, but no less suffocating.
"You've been avoiding us, little mate," Lukas murmured, taking a slow step forward.
Eila pressed harder against the wall, trying to will herself into disappearing. "Because I want nothing to do with you."
Zois let out a low chuckle, closing the distance in a single step. His fingers ghosted over her jaw before tilting her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His touch was deceptively light, almost reverent—but the steel beneath it was unmistakable. "That's not how this works, love."
Her body betrayed her, responding to their nearness despite the battle raging in her mind. They were cruel, and relentless, and yet something about them called to her in a way she despised. It was infuriating. Her powers—the ones that made her unique, the ones that set her apart—felt utterly useless in their presence. Against them, she was nothing but prey caught in the jaws of its hunters.
"Leave me alone," she whispered, hating the weakness in her voice.
Lukas leaned in, his breath a wicked caress against her ear. "Oh, little mate… we haven't even started yet."
A low, deadly growl cut through the night.
And then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
Ripped away from her as if they had never been there at all.
Eila gasped, barely processing the shift before another presence filled the space.
Eila gasped, barely processing the shift before another presence filled the space they had vacated—one even darker, even more consuming.
Leonard Blackwell.
The air thickened, charged with an energy that sent a violent shudder through her body. He stood mere inches away, his towering frame cloaked in an expensive black coat, his icy blue eyes burning with an intensity that stole the breath from her lungs.
His hand lifted, slow and deliberate, his fingers brushing her jaw in a touch far gentler than she expected—but the force beneath it was unmistakable. It wasn't kindness. It was possession.
"They touched you." His voice was quiet, dangerously so.
Eila swallowed hard, her body locked in place by the weight of his gaze. "I—"
His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make her pulse stutter. "Did I not make myself clear, little one?" he murmured, his voice deceptively calm. "You are mine."
A spark of defiance flared inside her, but it was weak, drowning beneath the storm of sensations he effortlessly unravelled in her.
"You don't own me, Leonard."
His expression didn't change, but something in his gaze darkened. "Don't I?"
The air between them was suffocating, a battle of wills neither of them could win. She should have fought harder. She should have pushed him away. But her body—traitorous, weak, his—melted beneath the dominance he exuded.
She had power. She had a gift blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. And yet, in the presence of her mates, it was useless.
She could heal, she could see glimpses of the future, but she could not stop the torment that came with belonging to them.
Lukas and Zois, with their cruel games and intoxicating presence.
Leonard, with his deadly silence and unbearable possessiveness.
Three men. Three fates intertwining in a way that should never have been possible.
Eila clenched her fists, trying to summon the strength to fight—to resist. But as Leonard's fingers skimmed lower, tracing the fragile line of her throat, his voice dropped into a low, taunting whisper.
"You can run, little mate. But you'll never escape me."
A chill ran through her, but it wasn't fear.
It was something far more dangerous.
Because the worst part of it all?
She wasn't sure she wanted to escape.