The Triplet Alphas' Secret Mate-Chapter 37: Not A Slave

​Scarlett’s POV

​But the touch never came.

Not to my waist... not to my legs.

Instead, I felt his fingers brush against the sensitive skin of my throat.

My eyes snapped open in shock. He wasn’t reaching for my buttons; he was reaching for the metal choker.

​I heard a soft click—a sound more beautiful than any music—as he used a small, intricate key. The heavy weight that had been crushing my soul and severing me from my wolf suddenly vanished. He pulled the collar away, tossing the metal onto the nightstand.

​I gasped, my hand flying to my neck, feeling the bare, bruised skin. For the first time in hours, I felt the faint, flickering warmth of Zoe deep inside me, waking up from the magical sleep.

​Ethan stood up, putting several feet of distance between us. He looked down at me, his expression still unreadable.

​"You’re not a slave in this house, Scarlett," he said, adjusting his cuffs as if he hadn’t just terrified me to death. "Now, go wash the scent of those filth-ridden rogues off your skin. The maid will bring you clothes and food."

​He turned to leave, then paused and glanced back at me. "Don’t you dare think of doing anything stupid," he warned before leaving.

​I stayed curled on the edge of the bed for a long time after the door clicked shut. My fingers traced the raw, red line where the metal had dug into my skin, but all I could feel was the silent, steady thrum of Zoe’s presence returning. She was weak, whimpering in the back of my mind, but she was there.

​A few minutes later, a soft knock preceded an older maid who walked in carrying a tray of steaming food and a stack of expensive-looking clothes. She didn’t say much, only bowed her head and pointed toward the ensuite bathroom, which was larger than my entire room back at the Full Moon mansion.

​I soaked in the hot water until my skin turned pink, scrubbing away the dirt of the forest and the lingering, oily scent of the rogues. As the steam filled the room, my mind raced.

​Why did he buy me? If I wasn’t a slave... then what was I?

​After dressing in a simple silk tunic and leggings that smelled clean and new, I sat by the large window overlooking the estate. The territory was breathtaking—mountains surrounded the valley, and the air felt sharper, more electric than home.

​I couldn’t eat much. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the Rogue King’s face, and then Ethan’s cold, gray eyes. I felt like a bird that had been moved from a wooden cage to a golden one.

​Restless, I stood up and tested the door. To my surprise, it wasn’t locked.

​I crept out into the hallway. The mansion was silent, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock downstairs. I made my way to the balcony overlooking the foyer, hoping to find a way out or at least a phone to call Lana because my phone battery was surprisingly dead.

​"The gardens are lovely at night, but the gate is guarded by my strongest guards. You wouldn’t make it to the treeline."

​I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. Ethan was standing in the shadows of the library doorway below, a glass of red liquid in his hand. He hadn’t even looked up from the book he was holding.

​"I wasn’t running," I lied, my voice trembling.

​"Lie to them, Scarlett. Don’t lie to me," he said, finally looking up.

​"Them?" I stiffened. "Who?"

​He tilted his head, a small, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. It was the first time his face hadn’t looked like carved stone.

​He set his glass down and walked to the foot of the stairs. "Sleep. Tomorrow morning, we are leaving."

​My heart skipped. "Where?"

​But he didn’t answer. He simply walked closer.

Every instinct in me screamed to step back... to run... to get away from him.

But I didn’t move.

I forced myself to stand still as he stopped a few steps away.

​Standing a few steps away, I took the chance to study his features closely.

Brown chocolate hair like mine, gray eyes, sharp jawline, neatly shaved beard. I hated to say it, but he was stunningly handsome. But why does he have a striking resemblance to the triplets?

I shook my head. It had to be my mind playing tricks on me.

​He stared at me for a moment, like he was about to say something...

But instead, he turned and walked away, leaving me confused.

​I was able to locate my room. I entered and made sure to bolt the door.

​I lay on the massive bed, but sleep wouldn’t come so easily. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant footstep in the hallway made me bolt upright, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was like a wounded animal, ears pricked for the sound of a predator.

Zoe was still too weak to offer much comfort. She just curled at the back of my mind, exhausted from the magical suppression of that horrible collar.

​I stared at the ceiling for hours, wondering who the "them" was that Ethan had mentioned.

Does he know who I am?

Was he talking about the triplets... or their fathers?

​My skin prickled at the thought of the brothers. They probably didn’t even know I was missing—or worse, they were probably celebrating that the "traitor’s daughter" was finally gone.

​When dawn finally began to bleed through the heavy curtains, I was already sitting by the window, watching the mist roll over the mountains.

​Suddenly, a gentle knock at the door made me jump. I hurried to open it, finding the same silent maid from the night before. She was carrying a tray piled with fresh fruit, eggs, and warm bread.

​"Eat and bathe," she said, her voice low but friendlier than last night. "The Alpha says you leave in an hour."

​