Marked by the Triplet Alphas

Aria’s POV

The sun had barely begun to set, but the mansion was already throbbing with excitement — laughter spilling out from the courtyard, music pulsing through the air like a heartbeat.

Their heartbeat.

The almighty, all-perfect, gods-gift-to-this-pack Alpha Triplets.

And then there was me.

No laughter. No music. Just the sound of my fingers scraping the bottom of a frosting bowl and my knees aching from being on the floor for too long.

Happy birthday, Aria.

“Make sure the cake’s ready by seven, Aria.”

“Don’t mess up the decorations again, Aria.”

“Stop looking so miserable, Aria. It’s a celebration.”

What a joke.

I pulled my hair into a tight bun, ignoring the strand that stuck to my cheek from the frosting. The triplets — Kael, Rian, and Luca — were out back, probably being adored by a sea of she-wolves throwing themselves at them, while I was left here with my fingers smelling like vanilla and my heart full of resentment.

I hated sharing a birthday with them.

Hated it.

It felt like the universe’s cruel little joke — born on the same day as the boys who made my life a living hell. The ones who used to trip me in hallways, whisper insults loud enough for me to hear, make me feel like I was nothing.

Triplet Alphas and the girl they were forced to adopt. Sounds like a fairy tale, right?

Except in this one, Cinderella never got the damn ball gown. She just got stuck in the kitchen.

“Aria!” a voice called out behind me.

I turned, and there was Mira, my only real friend in this damn place, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed and a teasing smirk on her face.

“You’re muttering again,” she said, walking over to dip her finger into the bowl and steal a taste of frosting. “If you keep that up, people will think you’re plotting to poison the cake.”

“Don’t tempt me,” I muttered, grabbing a towel and wiping my hands. “I swear if I have to hear one more girl squeal about Kael’s abs or Luca’s smile, or even Rian’s face features, I’m going to—”

“Explode into a cloud of rage and sarcasm?” Mira grinned. “You’re almost done, come on. Just finish up and join the party. It’s still your birthday too, you know.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right. Like anyone here would care.”

But… she was right.

In six months, I’d graduate. I’d finally be free of this pack, free of the whispers and glares and the constant ache of being the unwanted outsider. And tonight… tonight I just had to survive.

So I finished the cake. Touched up the decorations. Swallowed the bitterness like it was champagne. Then I changed into the only decent dress I had, brushed the frosting out of my hair, and made my way outside to join the party.

The courtyard was lit up like a dream — golden lights wrapped around trees, music echoing off marble columns, the scent of grilled meat and wine heavy in the air.

And there they were.

The triplets.

Kael, standing like a damn statue — tall, broad, with that permanent scowl carved onto his face. His eyes met mine for a second. Cold. Dismissive. Nothing new.

Rian, the life of the party, was already laughing too loudly with a group of girls — his signature smirk plastered on his face.

And Luca, quiet but golden as ever, with that soft charm that made people feel like he actually cared.

They all looked at me.

I should’ve turned around and walked away.

But I didn’t.

I kept walking until I reached the table, trying to ignore the snickers from a group of pack girls. I caught pieces of their whispers — “What’s she doing here?” “Did she crash the party?” “She even smells like cake.”

Kael looked at me like I was dirt under his boot. “Didn’t know stray cats got invited.”

The laughter that followed cut deeper than it should have, but I didn’t flinch. I was used to this. Used to being treated like a joke in a place I never asked to be brought into.

I opened my mouth to say something, but then—

Splash.

The shock of cold wine dripping down my head made me gasp. I froze. My breath caught in my throat.

Kael. That smug bastard. He was holding an empty cup, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was proud of himself.

“Oops,” he said, deadpan. “Clumsy.”

I stared at him, my fists clenched at my sides.

Then Rian was there, grinning like a devil. “Don’t worry, Aria. I saved you a piece of cake.”

Before I could move, he shoved it in my face — cream, frosting, everything. I stumbled back, gagging as it got in my nose and mouth.

My heart was pounding. My skin was on fire. My humiliation was complete.

I spat it back at him — literally. Right in his chest.

Gasps echoed around the courtyard.

Rian stepped back, stunned. “What the hell—”

But I cut him off.

“No. What the hell is wrong with you?” My voice cracked, but it didn’t shake. I looked at each of them. “You think this is funny? That you’re still the same kids from high school who get to humiliate me and walk away like nothing happened?”

The crowd went silent.

Kael’s jaw twitched.

“You don’t get to treat me like this anymore,” I said, my voice low and razor-sharp. “Not for the next six months. Not ever again.”

And then I did the unthinkable.

I turned my back on them.

On all of them.

And I walked away, with my hair dripping wine, frosting on my cheek, and fire in my chest.

Six more months.

Just six more months and I’d be gone.

And they would remember this night — the night the pack’s ghost found her voice.

By the time I reached my room, I didn’t even bother turning on the lights.

I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound echoing through the walls like a final slap in the face. The wine was sticky in my hair, the taste of that damn cake still clinging to the back of my throat. I peeled off the dress I’d forced myself into — my only decent one, the one I’d hoped would make me feel pretty — and tossed it onto the floor like it had betrayed me too.

The room was silent, dark. But inside me, there was a storm.

I curled up on the edge of my bed, wrapping my arms around myself like that would somehow make the ache smaller.

It didn’t.

I was eighteen now. Eighteen. And still… no birthday cake of my own. No candles. No wish. Just laughter and cruelty and drinks poured over my head like I was a joke to the universe.

I tried to hold it in. I really did.

But the sobs came anyway. Deep, guttural, ugly sobs that shook my whole body until I couldn’t breathe. I cried for the little girl who waited for her parents to come back. For the teenager who got shoved into lockers and treated like she didn’t belong. For the girl who shared a birthday with monsters and never got to feel like she mattered.

Not once.

Eventually, the tears dried up. My pillow was soaked, my chest hollow. And sleep came like a thief, dragging me under before I could feel any more.