Once Rejected, Now Desired by Three Alpha’s

Chapter 8

Peach's pov

All eyes fixated on me as a heavy silence settled, regret coursing through me like an electric shock. If I could rewind time, I'd choose silence over the ill-fated words that spilled from my mouth.

"Why did you talk?" Julie's anxious whisper reached my ears, and the three boys, now back in their human form, surrounded me with a canopy of tension. Asher's eyes burned with anger, piercing through my defenses.

In a hushed tone, Cody voiced his irritation, "What are you doing, Amon? Isn't this your fiancée? She seems to be asking for trouble." Amusement tinged with annoyance colored his words, and the atmosphere crackled with tension.

Amon, with a furious glare, accused, "Not only are you an ugly b***h, you are also very dumb." Fear paralyzed me, rendering me speechless in the face of their wrath.

Feeling like I was submerged in boiling water, with no escape, I stammered, "I... made a mistake. I shouldn't have done what I did." Terrified, I hoped my plea for leniency would be heard in this unfamiliar, hostile environment.

"A mistake?" Asher growled, his anger palpable. I closed my eyes, bracing for the consequences of my actions.

Amon intervened, his annoyance evident, "You don't have to do anything to her, Asher. Since she's the one who wants me to marry her, I'll handle this. Stay out of it." His words held an underlying tension, and I couldn't shake the feeling that his frustration wasn't directed at me.

"She interrupted our fight; that's unprecedented. She must be punished," Asher declared, his tone laced with annoyance. Mockingly, he added, "You should have kept her in check, considering she's your fiancée."

Cody, leaving with his entourage, offered a parting shot, "You should keep her in check so this doesn't happen again." His anger echoed in the distance, leaving me standing alone in the aftermath of my ill-fated words.

As the tension hung heavy in the air, Amon’s gaze shifted from me to his brother, Asher, an unspoken conflict simmering between them. My eyes opened to witness the intense exchange, realizing that my transgression had not only disrupted their dynamics but had unveiled deeper familial complexities.

Asher’s voice sliced through the strained atmosphere, “She has interrupted our fight, and it has never happened before. She must get punished.” His words reverberated, leaving me trembling under the weight of impending consequences.

"I won't let this go easily next time," Asher declared with annoyance, his words lingering in the charged air as he walked away with his entourage, leaving me with a sense of impending doom.

Amon's grip on my wrist was unrelenting, his anger evident as he forcefully pulled me away from the crowd. Despite my futile attempts to free myself, his strength prevailed. "Come with me," he commanded, guiding me into a room that he promptly locked behind us. Panic set in as my heart raced, anticipating the unknown repercussions of my ill-fated interruption.

In the confined space, Amon's frustration radiated, his eyes ablaze with rage. "I am sorry," I stammered, tears streaming down my face, a mixture of fear and regret consuming me.

"Enough!" Amon growled, his anger echoing through the room. "Don't you dare cry," he commanded, and I hastily wiped away my tears, suppressing the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill.

"I won't cry, I won't cry anymore," I vowed, struggling to compose myself in the face of his seething anger.

Amon's voice sliced through the tense atmosphere, revealing his feelings of shame and ridicule. "My dad told me you were homeschooled for so many years. Doesn't that mean you are supposed to keep a low profile? So why the heck would you do this?" His questioning tone held a mix of frustration and disbelief, emphasizing the gravity of my lapse in judgment.

"I promise it won't ever happen again," I pled with tearful sincerity, my gaze fixed on the ground to avoid the intensity of his stare.

"It shouldn't ever happen again, Peach!" he growled, uttering my name for the first time, creating an unusual tension in the room.

"It won't," I assured, my voice low and repentant.

"You should stay away from anything that concerns me. I stopped Asher from punishing you earlier because of my father, but next time..."

"There won't be a next time," I interjected, determined to prevent any recurrence of this harrowing experience.

"That is better then. Stay clear, Peach. It will get real messy if you don't stay clear," Amon warned, turning his back to me. As he opened the door, relief washed over me, realizing he had left it ajar. Collapsing to the floor, uncontrollable tears streamed down my face, fueled by the fear of the potential harm I had narrowly avoided. Resolute, I vowed never to let myself be hurt by anyone again.

Peach's perspective

All I yearn for is to return home; it feels as though an eternity unfolded in a single day. Throughout the lectures, I found myself under a barrage of stares, whispers about my audacity, and murmurs expressing sheer luck to be alive. All I crave is the solace of home, hoping to erase the tumultuous events of the day from my memory.

As the female teacher concluded the class, her demeanor lacked the warmth of Mr. Zaheer, and her instructions were somewhat unclear. Terrified by the day's earlier events, I hesitated to voice my concerns. The only takeaway was a directive to submit our designs for the next class—an obligation that seemed manageable considering the array of designs waiting at home.

Exiting the school, my anticipation to meet Julie dwindled as she blatantly ignored me, quickening her pace. I understood; I should have anticipated this. Opting for a cab, I retreated to the familiar confines of my home.

Upon entering, Anna's enthusiastic greeting took me by surprise. Fatigue clung to me, and I coldly dismissed her, expressing my desire to retreat to my room. My mom intercepted my escape, probing about my day and hinting at the encounter with my supposed future husband.

"Yes, Mom, he was remarkably pleasant," I responded, flashing a forced smile. "The school is treating me well; everyone is nice." I masked the unsettling events with practiced cheerfulness.

Mom, evidently pleased, attributed the positive treatment to my prospective connection with the influential Lycan king. Her inquiry about my meal and concern for my eating habits followed, to which I assured her compliance with a prescribed diet.

"I didn't eat too much, Mom," I reassured her with a smile. "Can I go to my room now? I'd like to freshen up." The façade of smiles concealed the weight of the day, and in the privacy of my room, I could finally exhale and process the intricacies of the tangled world I had been thrust into.

As the words "Alright then" hung in the air, I retreated to the cocoon of my room.

In the haven of my room, a deep exhale escaped me, the echoes of the day reverberating in my mind like an intricately woven tapestry of chaos. The mask I wore in front of my mother and Anna served as a barrier, shielding them from the emotional tempest that brewed within.

As my gaze swept across the room, I sought solace in the familiar. The four walls, adorned with memories and remnants of a simpler time, offered a transient escape from the intricate complexities that awaited beyond. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm ambience, creating pockets of serenity amid the storm that raged in my thoughts.

A visceral "f**k!" escaped my lips as I collapsed onto the bed. Today was an unwanted chapter, a narrative I wished to erase. The fleeting thought of abandoning school and discarding this dream crossed my mind, but the undeniable certainty that I'd be filled with regret if I didn't persevere kept me tethered to my ambition.

Rising from the bed, I approached the counter, hoping to find a semblance of preparedness for the looming class. My search proved futile, frustration building with every unproductive moment. Faced with the challenge of creating a design from scratch, I resolved to invest my utmost effort, determined to win the approval of my instructor.

Hours unraveled as I immersed myself in the creative process. The designs birthing from my imagination fell short of my expectations, intensifying the frustrating ordeal. The weight of doubt pressed upon me, tempting me to surrender. Yet, the desire for approval propelled me to my feet, collapsing once more onto the bed. My gaze fixed on the ceiling, a moment of contemplation ensued until a sudden revelation stirred me back to action.

"This will work!" I declared with exhilaration, resuming my work with newfound determination. Finally, the design began to coalesce into the vision I sought, hours spent meticulously refining each detail. "Finally done," I proclaimed, pride infusing my words, only then realizing my overlooked need for a shower.

Clad in my pajamas, a knock disrupted my solitude. Granting entry, Anna's announcement pierced the room, "It's time for dinner. Mom says you should come down fast."

"Is Dad back home?" I inquired before she abruptly departed.

"Yeah, he is," she replied, the door slamming rudely behind her.

Descending to the dinner table, my dad's welcoming smile greeted me. "My beautiful Peach, how was your first day at school?" he inquired, the urge to share the unfiltered truth tugging at me. However, the desire to spare him unnecessary worry prevailed.

"It was great, Dad. They are better than my old classmates," I replied, offering a smile to mask the complexities of the day.

"I'm really glad to know that you had a good first day," my dad said, a smile playing on his lips. "My daughter deserves nothing but the best," he added with a teary undertone. My father, always an emotional soul, would undoubtedly find it challenging if I were to unveil the raw truth of how my day truly unfolded.

"She does deserve the best, and that's why she will always get the best," my mom chimed in, her hands gracefully lowering a tray of meatloaf, a dish I cherished. "This is for you, Peach," she said, handing me a bowl of veggies. However, the initial smile on my face evaporated upon the sight of my designated meal.

"Can't I have this instead?" I murmured with a subdued tone.

"No, you can't. I am here to help with your diet, and besides, your father hasn't told you yet that you will be attending the birthday party of our soon-to-be in-laws," she insisted, denying my plea.

"Party!" Anna exclaimed with enthusiasm. "This is amazing," she added, her excitement palpable.

"Do I really have to attend?" I questioned, my tone low. The prospect of attending, especially after the earlier encounter with Amon, held little appeal.

"Yes, it is a must, and no 'buts.' You must look your best and be the prettiest there," my mom asserted with a serious tone. Arguing with my mom seemed futile, but hunger gripped me, and the prospect of the given meal did little to alleviate it.

"Mom, I will die if I eat this," I declared seriously.

"There you go," my dad interjected, handing me a substantial chunk of meatloaf. I wasted no time in savoring it. "She doesn't need to lose weight; she is perfect this way," my dad added, annoyance laced in his tone as he directed a glare at my mom.

"I was only trying to help. She will be eighteen in a few days, so don't you think it's time she takes her health seriously," my mom retorted, emphasizing the imminent arrival of my birthday. The thought of it, an impending event I perpetually dreaded, cast a shadow over my mood.

"I am done eating," I declared, rising with a sour mood. "I want to go to sleep now," I added, not waiting for any response as I briskly made my way to my room, locking the door behind me. As the door clicked shut, the echoes of my sixteenth birthday came crashing back, reliving the moments that had left an indelible mark on my memory.