A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs novel Chapter 161

{Elira}

~**^**~

~SUNDAY~

The sound of my heartbeat woke me before the sun did.

I lay still for a long moment, staring at the faint silver glow leaking through the blinds, willing the knot in my stomach to ease, but it didn’t work.

I pushed myself up slowly, careful not to disturb the others. Nari was snoring softly, tangled in her blanket like a cocoon.

Juniper sprawled sideways, one arm dangling off the bed. Cambria slept perfectly still, as if even in her dreams she had discipline. And Tamryn—steady, breathing deep.

They didn’t know the real truth about where I was going today.

I had told them yesterday that I would be going home, and I feigned the same casual tone I had used a dozen times before. They had blinked but let it pass, only extracting a promise that I would explain when I came back tomorrow.

But by then, everything could be different.

I slipped off the bunk and padded into the bathroom, my steps light on the cold floor.

The water stung against my nerves as I washed, and I dressed with the efficiency of someone who didn’t want to think.

Lennon had warned me yesterday at lunch that the trip would take long hours and that we had to leave early.

When I returned, the dorm room was still draped in sleep. I sat at the desk and pulled my long, red hair into a neat bun, pinning it in place. It was a small thing, but it steadied me.

My backpack sat by the foot of my bed, already packed last night. I bent to lift it and then froze when I felt eyes on me.

Tamryn stirred, her lashes fluttering open. She blinked at me, confusion soft in her gaze.

Our eyes met in the dim room, silence stretching like a fragile thread between us.

“Why are you leaving so early? Won’t you have breakfast with us?” Tamryn’s voice was a whisper, husky with sleep.

I froze for half a heartbeat, then forced a small smile and tiptoed closer to her bunk. “No,” I whispered back. “Not today.”

Her brow furrowed, but I glanced quickly at the others, all still lost in their dreams. When my eyes returned to Tamryn, she was watching me with that steady, perceptive gaze of hers.

“Tell the others goodbye for me,” I murmured, my voice softer now, almost fragile. “Please.”

Tamryn’s lips pressed into a faint smile as she gave a single, sleepy nod.

“Thanks,” I whispered, the word sticking to my throat.

Then I swung the strap of my backpack over my shoulder and slipped out the door before my nerves could betray me.

The hallway felt longer than usual, my steps echoing too loudly against the tiles. By the time I reached the elevator and pressed the button, my pulse had lodged firmly in my ears.

The doors slid shut, carrying me down from the third floor, and I stared at my reflection in the silver panel—hair in a neat bun, dress crisp, but eyes restless.

The elevator chimed, the doors opened, and the early morning air of ESA greeted me when I stepped outside.

My shoes whispered over the stone path as I crossed the dormitory grounds into the vast sprawl of the main school. The campus was quiet, still cloaked in dawn.

And then I saw them.

Lennon and Rennon stood by Zenon’s black jeep, both leaning casually against the hood, voices low as they chatted. My chest tightened at the sight. They looked so steady and unshakable.

I glanced at my smartwatch. Just five minutes past six. Too early for anyone else to notice, too early for me to pretend I wasn’t nervous.

The brothers turned their heads at the same time, sensing me. Then Lennon’s smile broke wide, easy, as he lifted a hand in a wave.

Something about the gesture pulled me forward. I quickened my steps, my nerves trailing behind me like shadows I couldn’t shake.

“There’s our early bird,” Lennon called, his voice carrying in the still morning air.

Rennon dipped his chin in a quiet acknowledgement, though his eyes flicked over me like he was checking if I had slept at all.

I tried to smile, but it wobbled. “Good morning.”

“Morning?” Lennon echoed with mock disbelief. “You look like someone stole your breakfast.”

I hugged the strap of my backpack tighter. “Maybe because I skipped it.”

Rennon’s mouth tugged faintly at the corner, almost a smile. “You will need energy for today.”

“I will survive,” I muttered, though my stomach already churned from nerves, not hunger.

Lennon chuckled, pushing off the hood. “Survive? With us? Oh, Elira, you wound me. You are supposed to say you will thrive.”

“No,” Zenon said, eyes fixed forward.

“That’s it? Just no?” Lennon leaned back, exasperated. “You don’t trust me?”

“You get distracted,” Zenon replied flatly.

Rennon’s quiet voice cut through, almost amused. “You do get distracted.”

Lennon gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Even you, Rennon?”

I couldn’t help it—the corner of my lips twitched. They were ridiculous, even now.

“Besides,” Rennon added, tone calm as always, “Zenon would never hand over the wheel of his car.”

That earned him a sharp glance from the driver, but he wasn’t wrong.

I leaned back against the seat, the tension in my chest easing just slightly.

For a moment, the looming thought of the witch, of my locked channels, dimmed under the simple chaos of them being themselves.

But as the trees blurred past the window while the jeep ate up the miles, I couldn’t shake the thought that this ride was taking me straight toward an answer I wasn’t ready for—

No matter how loud Lennon joked, or how calmly Rennon balanced it all.

—

The road stretched on and on, the scenery changing from neat rows of townhouses to the sweep of open fields.

Time blurred, and with every mile, my stomach seemed to knot tighter.

I told myself it was just nerves, that the hollow ache I felt wasn’t real hunger. But two hours later, the stubborn growl from my stomach betrayed me.

Heat crept up my neck. I shifted slightly in my seat, sneaking a glance over my shoulder. Lennon was sprawled comfortably, flipping through his phone while Rennon sat straighter, earbuds in, a book balanced in one hand.

The paper bag was wedged between them.

I swallowed my pride. “Um… about that breakfast,” I said in a small voice.