Desired by Alpha Triplets

Katherine POV

I adjusted my rain jacket's hood as I balanced on the rocky outcropping. Below me, the morning fog embraced the small bay like a lover, tendrils of mist caressing the water's surface. I raised my camera, capturing the ethereal scene where dark pines met churning ocean. This spot—where forest and coastline merged in perfect harmony—made Maine almost bearable.

Almost.

The viewfinder framed what might be the most beautiful background I'd ever seen, the kind of vista that belonged on travel websites, not visible from the outskirts of a city like Portland. I snapped three quick shots, then checked my watch. Shit. School. The thought settled like a rock in my stomach.

One month in Portland, and I still couldn't shake the feeling that moving here had been a nightmare. Even summer in Maine felt colder than California, the damp sea breeze penetrating my clothes in ways the dry western heat never did.

The three-day drive from California had been hell. David—too drunk to drive, as usual—sprawled across the back seat while my mother white-knuckled the steering wheel the entire way. No money for motels meant sleeping in the car at rest stops. I'd secretly enjoyed parts of the journey, though, mentally cataloging the dense Oregon forests and dramatic coastlines for future hikes once I graduated and could finally leave.

Seventeen years, and I'd never once met my father. Never experienced what it felt like to have parents who actually wanted me. My earliest memories were of my mother's contempt, those cold eyes looking at me like I was a mistake that breathed. I'd spent countless nights wondering what I'd done wrong, why my mother hated me so viciously, why David's hands always seemed to find reasons to touch me when no one was looking. As a child, I believed if I were just good enough, quiet enough, invisible enough, things would change. Now I knew better.

I'd long abandoned fantasies about my birth father appearing to rescue me. The man I'd never met remained a mystery, though I often wondered what kind of person he was, especially considering my mixed bloodline—werewolf, vampire, witch, and elf. My mother, Mary, never missed an opportunity to remind me how much she hated me, how I should never have been born. David was just the latest in a long string of men my mother had cycled through since I was an infant.

Making friends had never been an option. "Friends ask questions," my mother would snap whenever I mentioned someone from school. "We don't need anyone poking around in our business." At first, I thought it was just my mother being cruel. Later, I realized it was about keeping my true nature hidden. Not that Mary knew what I really was—just that I was "different" in ways that made her recoil.

I started down the trail toward the neighborhoods that would lead me home. The trees thinned as I approached the city limits, houses gradually appearing between patches of green. The blocks grew shabbier as I got closer to home—a good sign. Maybe my mother and David were still asleep, or at least not fighting yet.

A low growl from a nearby park's bushes stopped me. Instead of running, I raised my camera, hoping to catch whatever wildlife had ventured into the city. But the sound faded as quickly as it had appeared.

Home was a two-story wooden structure in Portland's East Side that probably should have been condemned years ago. I slipped in through the back door, hearing nothing but the occasional creak of ancient floorboards. I headed upstairs, grabbed clean clothes, and locked myself in the bathroom for a quick shower.

The hot water barely lasted five minutes, but it was enough. I pulled on a blue sweater, flared jeans, and black boots—a stark contrast to the designer labels I'd seen at my previous schools. When I opened the bathroom door, David stood waiting, reeking of beer and cigarettes. The smell made me want to vomit.

"Morning, sweetheart," he slurred, pulling me into a hug that let his hands wander down to grab my ass. "Gotta be careful with those high school boys. They only want one thing."

I twisted out of his grip, snatched my things, and headed back downstairs. I wished I were still in California. Even that crappy house had been better than this place. There, I'd at least had spaces to avoid David. I'd had people to talk to, if not friends—other kids' parents generally forbade friendships once they met Mary and her rotating cast of boyfriends.

Too many schools had taught me not to bother making friends. No point getting attached when we'd just move again. Besides, friendships meant questions about my life, questions that could reveal my abilities and true identity.

Avoiding David, I headed for the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator, reaching for an apple, when the door suddenly slammed shut on my hand. I cried out, more from surprise than pain, and looked up to see my mother standing there, pressing the door closed.

Mary's bloodshot eyes narrowed. "You can't even do one simple thing right, can you? One thing."

I stared back, cradling my wrist. "I just wanted an apple."

"You're useless," she hissed. "Always have been. You know what? I'm tired of this. Tired of you. Maybe it's time you found somewhere else to live."

I bit back the retort burning on my tongue. I couldn't get thrown out. Not yet. Not when I had a mission to complete. The trainers had been clear—I needed to maintain my cover, needed a base of operations until my eighteenth birthday. I'd endured worse than Mary's hatred for years; I could manage a few more months.

"I'm sorry," I said, the words like ash in my mouth. "It won't happen again."

Mary snorted, disgusted. "Get out of my sight."

I headed for the door, anger building in my chest. The unfairness of it all—living with people who didn't want me, hiding who I really was—threatened to overwhelm me. Inside, my FIRE ability flickered in response to my rage, a warm current pulsing beneath my skin. I took deep breaths, focusing on the control techniques I'd practiced for years. Not here. Not now.

The bus ride to school took thirty minutes, carrying me from the dilapidated East Side through downtown's gleaming buildings. As we approached the school district, I noticed the houses growing neater, the trees lining the streets more abundant and carefully tended.

I stepped off the bus, staring at Portland Public High's modern facade. I inhaled deeply, my enhanced senses immediately picking up the subtle scent markers that ordinary humans would never notice. Werewolves. At least a dozen, maybe more. I'd been briefed that this school had a mixed population, but experiencing it firsthand sent a chill down my spine.

I walked through the entrance, heading straight for the office to collect my schedule and information about extracurricular activities I had zero intention of joining. The secretary who handed over my paperwork had the telltale glint in her eyes—a wolf hiding in plain sight.

As I located my locker, I noticed everyone watching me. Some stares were merely curious, others were more intense, nostrils flaring slightly as if they caught my carefully masked scent. The wolf-born students knew something was different about me, but the wolfsbane injections I took weekly kept my true nature disguised—a crucial protection for my mission.

I arranged my books, organizing the materials I'd need for morning classes while maintaining a casual demeanor. My trainers had prepared me for this infiltration for years. Pretend to be human. Don't reveal your abilities. Stay under the radar.

This wasn't my first rodeo. I'd survived worse situations with deadlier enemies. Whatever Portland High threw at me, I could handle it.