Fated and Claimed by Four Alphas
Chapter 29: The Werewolf Princess

Chapter 29: The Werewolf Princess

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Chapter 29

~Serissa’s POV~

Across the cafeteria, my eyes never left her.

Spring Kaine.

That name had started rolling through the halls like wildfire. On the lips of a few teachers. Whispered in corridors. Murmured in the damn dorms.

And now?

Now she was laughing at a lunch table. Surrounded by girls I didn’t even recognise. No magic, no charm cast. Just her. As if she belonged here.

Spring Kaine was a nobody, no one bored about, except those who think a filth like her was worth anything, even to be bullied, until now.

I folded my arms across my chest, fingers curling tight into the silk of my sleeve. My tray of untouched fruit salad sat cold in front of me, the saccharine sweetness in one of her so-called friends’ tone making my stomach turn.

She was supposed to be the tragic girl. The mistake. The one too invisible to matter and too weak to keep. Instead, she had become the centre of attention in a good way.

Their centre of them—of him, Storm and Tyrion.

Both of them.

I could stomach the others—Jace and Kael were lost causes anyway, naughty and flirty and Lucien was a thundercloud with too many sharp edges. But Storm? Tyrion?

No.

They were supposed to be mine.

The Moon Goddess made a mistake. And I planned to fix it.

I resumed school just yesterday.

I should’ve felt triumphant. My return was planned, polished, and timed to perfection. I was a princess, daughter of the werewolf king of Lunaris. My bloodline alone should have had this school bending at the knees.

And yet, the first thing I heard stepping onto campus wasn’t my arrival but hers.

"Did you hear? The new girl—Spring—she’s mated to the Alphas. All four regional heirs."

A slap to the face might’ve stung less.

And I knew deep down, I’d known something was wrong. The reason why Storm stopped answering my messages and Tyrion stopped paying me any heed altogether. It all made sense now.

Some nobody. Some off-the-map, middle-class, fostered-by-rich-fools girl walks in and steals everything.

My informant overheard her and the alphas and discovered that Spring Kaine was a werewolf. Tch... It didn’t matter that she was a she-wolf.

I was a princess, heir to a line blessed by the First Moon Priestess. I’d trained for this and lived for this.

She was nothing.

My day was ruined just by her presence. I had tried speaking to Storm and Tyrion after classes that day, but they had left immediately afterwards.

Not too long after, I spotted them talking to her.

Storm stood a few feet from Spring, casually leaning against the pillar like the hallway was his throne room. Students passed by, but his attention never drifted.

It was on her—and her alone.

She said something and he smirked.

Then, without warning, he stepped closer, lips brushing the edge of her ear, whispering something only she could hear. Spring rolled her eyes, when he pulled away a little, but her lips curled into a genuine smile.

And then she did it—lifted one hand and lightly pressed it against Storm’s chest with an almost playful shove, her fingers lingering for half a second longer than they needed to.

She turned and walked away, her skirt swaying behind her.

Storm watched her go, jaw tense, but that possessive grin remained on his lips. From across the hallway, I crushed my water bottle with a loud crack, droplets spilling through my fingers as plastic caved under pressure.

"Unbelievable," I hissed sharp. No one noticed—too busy watching her.

My fingers burned from how tightly I clenched the bottle, but I didn’t let go.

By the time I returned to my dorm, I was still filled with anger, something that was bad for my health, Mum would say and punish whoever or whatever made me angry.

The moment the door shut behind me, I shrugged off my velvet coat and tossed it over the arm of the chaise with a little more force than necessary.

The sound of soft jazz charmed the background from a record player, but even that couldn’t drown out the buzzing in my head.

"She actually laughed," I muttered aloud. "In the cafeteria with friends. Since when?"

I didn’t need to say her name.

My roommate, Delilah, glanced up from her vanity. "You mean Spring, Spring Kaine?"

"Of course, I mean Spring." I began to unfasten my gloves, each tug sharper than the last. "The new girl with an aura nobody can place and a personality that somehow bagged all five Alphas in one day."

Delilah snorted, twirling a strand of her silver-dyed-streaked hair. "Technically, they bagged her. Or at least, that’s how everyone’s whispering it."

I narrowed my eyes at her through the mirror. "Don’t be stupid. This wasn’t an accident. That kind of power? It doesn’t just happen. Something happened."

"Yeah, Moon Goddess did."

"Storm and Tyrion are mine," I retorted.

Delilah swivelled her chair, curious now. "I thought you said Storm was just biding time."

"I said Storm was. Tyrion wasn’t." My voice dipped to a venomous whisper. "And now both of them are tied to some no-name girl with a temper and a martyr complex."

Delilah arched a brow. "You sound threatened."

I turned, slowly. "I sound accurate." Then, as my heels clicked across the tiled floor, I opened the bottom drawer of my vanity. "But she won’t be for long."

From within, I drew out a silver-etched box—old, sleek and hazardous because of its contents.

Inside, a dozen charm pins lay nestled in dark velvet. They weren’t the regular pins but looked traditional in form.

A dark witch made it for my mother. Using it, she could disrupt a person’s character and bring out their darkest, impure thoughts and nature when amongst others.

Unless you knew how to use them. Of course. If they aren’t placed inside a dark velvet material or plain black cloth, it would actually take effect.

Delilah leaned forward when I didn’t speak for a while. "What’s your plan?"

"Step one," I said, choosing the charm with the soft lilac gemstone—the colour of courtesy. "Passive kindness. Confuse the crowd and keep her guessing while I set chaos in motion."

Delilah’s lips curled. "And step two?"

"Let the court of public opinion do what it does best." I shut the box with a soft click. "Watch her drown in it."

The next afternoon, fate offered me a moment.

She was walking near the old north courtyard, probably headed toward the library. Her hair was tied up, her expression distant, too composed. Like someone trying not to breathe too loudly in a ballroom.

Perfect.