June 15 2026, 10:01am
They say there are five stages of grief, and for Nyx’ara, in the twenty years that she has walked this sphere Earth, has experienced all five plus the new sixth she has just decided to add:
Confusion.
Confusion is the moment when you decide that your life is falling apart. The moment when you know that everything has all gone south, but for some reason, you cannot for the life of you, understand how this happened or see ways to get your sorry ass out of that uncomfortable situation.
That was exactly how she felt now.
For minutes, she remained where she was with her head bowed and her heart racing so hard, one would think she was in a marathon. Her fingers dug into her dress so tightly and her face, once bright... once smooth and fiery, was now devoid of all color.
By the time she finally made it to her feet, Draven had returned to his throne. His brothers were seated by his side, all watching her... all waiting to see what her reaction would be.
She would not give them the reaction they desired.
Her body shook violently, especially her legs which could no longer hold her weight. And this time, when she walked closer to them, she didn’t stop walking even as they screamed at her to stop.
Hell, she had nothing left to lose.
"Ki-kill me." Her words were bland. Final.
It echoed around the vast space until everyone went silent. It vibrated through the air, causing all eyes to turn to her.
Her eyes for the first time in forever met and held the quadruplets’, but there was no fear in them. No panic. Just a quiet resignation.
"K-kill me a-and let’s ge-get this o-over with."
For a moment, all Rhys could do was dig his fingers into his chair. His eyes roved up her dainty body, watching for any signs of foul play. He wanted to be sure that this was what she wanted. That she wasn’t acting like a victim with hopes of earning sympathy.
She looked defeated.
He smiled. "You want us to kill you?"
She nodded once. Twice. Her beautiful blonde hair bobbed around her face. Her chest bounced too... almost unnoticeably.
His fingernails dug deeper into his chair and he gulped. "Fine, we’ll do that."
The pure joy that flashed across her face as soon as he said that made his chest tighten. He had no right, but for some reason, watching her wish for her death felt like betrayal.
It felt like she’d hurt him.
It made him feel like she had decided to let go of him— of his brothers. Like she didn’t give a shit about the mate bond festering between them.
While she continued to look at him with hopeful pleading eyes, he tilted his head to the side and asked; "Why though?"
She frowned. "W-why what?"
"Why do you want to die so badly?"
Nyx’ara flinched at the question but she did not respond immediately.
Because I am tired of living like this?
Because I cannot go through another day being a puppet in your games?
Because I am frightened of what you could do to me?
The list was endless.
"Be-because I-I think t-that would make yo-you f-feel better."
For a very brief second, no one moved. No one dared to. Blue eyes met molten magma. And just when Nyx’ara had begun to think that her request would be met, he shrugged;
"No."
No?!
"No, we refuse to kill you now and allow you to die with dignity."
She gulped.
"We refuse to watch your head roll when you still have this much pride on your shoulders. We refuse to let you go to the afterlife unbroken. We shall grant your wish and kill you— yes. But before you earn the peace of being put six feet under, you shall know agony. You shall bear our kids, you shall weep for the pain we inflict upon you... and you shall take your last breath knowing that you were nothing but a baby factory for the same men whose sister you murdered in cold blood."
Goosebumps spread over her skin. A small cry slipped out of her lips. Her knees almost hit the floor.
Almost.
But she bit against her lower lip and held on.
Tears streamed down her face, making her already terrible vision blurry. She choked on a sob, refusing to let it slip out, and shook her head.
"W-what if I re-refuse?"
"If you refuse?" Kieran jeered, cocking his eyebrow at her, "...if you refuse, we will torture you anyway, but we will not stop there. We will return to your pack and we will raze the entire place to the ground. We will kill men and women and children alike... no one will be spared from our wrath."
Everyone will be killed.
Berlin and her family will too.
So what is the point of all of this?
This thought slammed into her with a jarring clarity, making her heart stumble. She had never had a phone before or she would have reached out to Berlin first and warned her of the impending danger.
But besides Berlin, there were other good people in that pack. There were women and children who only wanted to love and to live a day at a time.
There were men who would do anything to protect their family— not her father though, that man was a wimp.
Wiping off the tears in her eyes with the back of her hand, she lifted her head one more time to meet the eyes of her oppressors. Her hell on earth. Her godforsaken mates.
And then she stuttered; "I-I will do-do it."
Kieran and Azriel smiled.
Draven did not react.
Rhys, on the other hand, continued to watch her face, the ghost of a smirk appearing on his lips. He wanted to see just how far she could be pushed. He wanted to know the point where her limits reached and stopped.
And for this reason, he rose to his feet, causing everyone to turn to him with wide expectant eyes. He then raised his fisted hand into the air, causing the mumbles rippling through the crowd to come to an abrupt end.
His voice was loud, solid and sharp. It vaguely reminded her of the protagonist in the book: ’the dictator’ as he spoke.
He said; "Fine then. The wedding will take place in the pack’s chapel by 10:00am this Saturday."
As soon as he spoke, his other three brothers turned to him with surprise evident on their faces, obviously, they hadn’t been expecting him to say something like that. Nyx’ara felt as though the air had been sucked right out of her lungs and her knees buckled as she fought to keep her body upright.
"NO!" A sharp cry— one that was louder than Nyx’ara’s— tore through the air from the back, and when she turned to look, she realized to her utmost surprise that it was the girl from yesterday.
The stunning woman who had been straddling Alpha Azriel intimately while she was being condemned to her fate.
Nyx’ara should feel sorry for the girl, right?
So why did she feel powerful instead?
Why did she suddenly get the urge to smile in the girl’s face especially after remembering how she had glared at her yesterday?
How she had treated her like she was nothing but scum...
Seraphina yelled again; "NO!"
And this time, Nyx’ara could not hold back her smile. She fell to the floor, hid her face behind her hands, and smiled.
At least, she was not the only one being tortured by this bizarre arrangement.