Fated and Claimed by Four Alphas
Chapter 19: An Informal Conference

Chapter 19: An Informal Conference

****************

Chapter 19

~Author’s POV~

By the time they all arrived at the classroom, it was too silent. Everyone had their thoughts and waited for someone to break the silence.

Sunlight filtered through dusty windows, casting pale lines across the floor, desks, chairs and on their faces.

But the five figures in the room were coiled with something they couldn’t name but couldn’t escape.

One name, one person... Spring Kaine.

They stood apart, instinctively claiming space with posture alone, though no one sat or spoke. Each Alpha marked the room with his presence like a silent battlefield.

Then—unsurprisingly—Kael broke the silence first.

He leaned lazily against a desk, arms crossed, one eyebrow cocked with casual arrogance. "So... what’s the plan? Stare at each other until we all combust, or are we actually going to talk about the Moon Goddess deciding to be extra dramatic this year?"

No one answered.

His green eyes gleamed with an unreadable expression. "Four Alpha-blooded heirs. One mate. You’d think she’d at least stagger the suffering."

"Hmm," Lucien muttered, not quite saying anything, not that he could since out of all of them, he was the one who did not want the bond.

Across the room, Storm didn’t move. He stood there assessing the situation with his cold, icy-blue gaze fixed on the floor as if he were recalibrating the universe itself.

"She’s mine," he said flatly, like a man unsheathing a knife against his enemies. "Whatever this is—it’s wrong. The Moon Goddess doesn’t divide fates."

"You can’t say that," Jace drawled, stepping forward with a lazy swagger. "But I felt the bond, Frostbite. And so did you. Unless this is some twisted group hallucination, we’ve all been collared."

His smirk didn’t reach his eyes. There was tension in his posture. He was angry, sure—but it wasn’t the possessive rage Storm wore like a cloak. It was deeper.

It was jealousy.

"It’s real," Tyrion affirmed. His silver eyes didn’t hold confusion—only acceptance. "And fate is never wrong, just... only cruel." They all turned toward him. "She... she just seems old."

"What?" Jace asked. "Tyrion, what nonsense are you sprouting?"

Tyrion shrugged and exhaled. "She looked hurt and not just shocked. I could see the look in her eyes when she spotted us. Like someone had hurt her deeply before, and from what I know, it is her eighteenth birthday..."

"Meaning?" Kael cut in.

Tyrion continued, "Meaning she never had a mate before any of us and..."

"And why would she have a mate?" Storm asked, lifting his brows.

Tyrion bit the side of his lower lip. "Look... the betrayal I saw..."

"It doesn’t matter,’ Kael cut in.

Jace scoffed. "Philosophy isn’t helping, moon boy. No offence, Tyrion."

"I didn’t say it would," Tyrion replied quietly.

"Are we just going to ignore the very large Lucien-shaped problem in the room?" Kael asked, snapping a ringed finger. "Because unless my ears are broken, Spring’s bond also snapped with him."

Storm’s jaw flexed.

Jace frowned, eyes narrowing. "I sincerely do not know what the Moon Goddess was thinking. That bastard bullied her for a year. He doesn’t deserve to be part of this."

"And yet..." Tyrion said softly, "he is."

Jace added, "Which is clearly a mistake. The bastard..."

"...is here," Lucien cut in. "So deal with it," he snapped.

"That’s not fate," Kael muttered, jaw ticking. "That’s punishment, the way I see it."

"Sadly, she didn’t choose us," Storm finally said, lifting his gaze. The ice behind his voice cracked just enough to show what was underneath. "She ran."

Jace clenched his fists. "Because she’s scared. Who wouldn’t be? She gets five mate bonds slammed into her in public. Most people would’ve fainted. She only ran. She didn’t reject us, though. That should count for something."

"She will reject us," Tyrion stated, a bit sure.

"She might," Kael corrected. "And if she does, at least two of you are going to handle it with all the grace of a burning car."

"I didn’t ask for this," Storm growled, and all eyes turned to him.

"You sure?" Kael tsked.

"From what I remembered, a day after she kissed you, you were eagerly expecting more," Jace stated.

"What? So were you guys. Besides, I meant it in a different context. I was not looking forward to sharing my mate with you bunch."

"None of us did," Tyrion said, still eerily composed. "But she is ours now. We are hers."

Kael’s eyes gleamed. "Speak for yourself, monk."

"You feel it too," Tyrion said, unwavering.

"Feeling it doesn’t mean I like it," Kael snapped. "We don’t know her. We don’t know anything about what she is—and yet, we’re bonded? The Moon Goddess must be throwing darts blindfolded."

"She kissed me," Storm muttered suddenly, breaking the tension. "So, she should be mine... only."

The others looked at him.

"Was that before or after Lucien opened his mouth and proved why he belongs in a chokehold?" Kael asked with a crooked grin.

"I felt the matebond first," Jace said.

"How sure are you? Didn’t we all feel it at the same time?" Kael argued.

Jace didn’t answer.

Storm didn’t react.

Tyrion exhaled before replying. "She’s not a prize. We don’t get to claim her."

"I disagree," Storm said. "A bond is sacred. You don’t walk away from it. You earn it."

"By forcing her?" Jace snapped.

"No," Tyrion said, stepping forward at last. "By being worthy."

Silence dropped like a blade again.

Each Alpha thought about the same thing in different ways.

She was alone now. Probably terrified. And somewhere inside, they all wanted to be the first one she saw next.

"I’m going to find her," Storm said at last, already turning for the door.

"Of course you are," Kael said dryly. "Because territorial overkill is always the answer."

Jace moved too, shoulders tight. "You think I’m letting you find her alone? Not happening."

Tyrion didn’t argue. Instead, he tucked his hands into his trousers pockets, his gaze narrowed as he watched them become supposed heroes.

Kael waited a few seconds, probably deciding whether he should follow and witness the spectacle they were about to create, or just fall behind with Tyrion.

His lips twitched. "Well," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "If this turns into a brawl, I’m taking the front seat."

"Well, I’m off,’ Lucien announced.

However, just before Storm’s hand could grip the door knob, the door pushed back. And standing right in the middle of the door was none other than...

"Spring?!"