Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210: Little wolf..

**~Cyrius’s POV~**

My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as though a million bricks were pressing down on them. My head throbbed, every beat of my pulse echoing like a hammer against my skull. I couldn’t remember... not properly. Just flashes.

Now, my eyes fluttered open, and a low groan escaped me. I was... somewhere. The air smelled faintly of lavender and wood polish, and the sight before me clawed at something deep in my memor..this was my room. My room back in France. The same one I stayed in with Hazel and her twins

But something was wrong.

I tried to sit up, but the moment I moved, the metallic bite of cold iron clamped around my wrists and ankles.

Chains. Real chains. I twisted, tugged, but each movement only made them rattle louder. My arms were spread to the bedposts, my ankles pinned, like a prisoner awaiting judgment.

"What the hell?" My voice cracked. "Where am I? What’s happening?"

My mind raced. Who would drag me back to France? Who would chain me like this?

And then it hit me—a scent, sudden and unmistakable, brushing against my senses like a memory. Warm vanilla. Wild musk. Hazel.

My chest tightened. "Hazel...?"

The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. A figure slipped inside. The scent grew stronger, headier, until it filled every inch of the room. And then I saw her.

Hazel.

She stepped in like a goddesso, brunette hair tumbling over her shoulders, brown eyes gleaming with a strange. My jaw slackened. She wore a sheer nightgown, nearly transparent, teasing every curve of her body. Her breasts outlined, her skin glowing faintly in the low light.

She smiled at me...no, smirked. A predator’s smile.

"H–Hazel," I stammered. "What’s going on? Why am I chained? What’s happening?"

She didn’t answer. Instead, she crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps, her hips swaying, the sound of her bare feet soft on the wooden floor. She reached me and cupped my cheek, her touch gentle.

"Oh, Cyrius," she purred, her voice a velvet whisper in my ear. "How you doing, baby? You good?"

A shiver crawled down my spine. "Hazel—unchain me. We need to get out of here. Who brought us here? Was it Dahlia?"

Her eyes flickered with something dark. "Dahlia? Oh, that woman’s dead." She tilted her head, her smile deepening. "I just want you to take care of me."

My heart pounded. "What do you mean take care of you? Hazel, are you even in your right mind? We have to leave. Now."

"No leaving." Her voice hardened. "Don’t you see? This is the same room you confessed your feelings to me. The same room where we spent our last night together... before I stabbed you."

The words hit me like a blow.

She trailed her fingers down her lips, as though tasting her own guilt. "I wanted to apologize for that," she murmured. "I want you to take care of me. Or maybe..." Her eyes flickered with mischief. "Maybe I should take care of you instead."

"Hazel!" I twisted against the chains, straining. "What are you thinking? What are you doing? Unchain me now." But no matter how hard I pulled, my strength felt like it was leaking out of me, as though the house itself drained it.

"Oh, darling," she said, almost teasing, "you can’t use your strength here. Not in this house. Not with me."

"Is any of this real?" I muttered. "Am I dreaming?"

I bit my tongue hard. Pain bloomed, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. This was no dream. But it didn’t feel real either.

Hazel’s expression softened, but only slightly. "Don’t think of me as Hazel," she whispered. "Don’t think of this as real or fake. Just... be in the moment. Feel it."

And then, before I could speak again, she reached for the thin straps of her gown. Slowly, with deliberate grace, she slid the fabric off her shoulders. The gown pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but lace, and then even that fell away.

Her full, plump breasts were bared, her skin warm and glowing. She cupped them in her hands, fingers toying with her nipples as she stared directly into my eyes.

"Believe yourself," she whispered. "Be in the moment."

"Be... what?" I stammered, my throat dry, my voice cracking like glass. "Release me! Now! And what are you doing?"

But even as I barked the words, my eyes refused to leave her body. She moved like liquid fire, like temptation given flesh. Every inch of her glowed under the dim light of the room—Hazel’s face, Hazel’s body, Hazel’s scent—only sharper, hungrier. My heart hammered, and something far lower inside me strained against my pants.

I tried to shift my hips away from her, but the chains pinned me flat. My cock was already thick and throbbing, an ache so intense it felt like it would tear through the fabric.

She noticed. Of course she noticed.

Her lips curved into a playful, almost childish smile. "Oh look," she said, tilting her head like a teasing lover. "Daddy is awake." She gestured at my straining bulge and giggled softly, a sound that was both cute and maddening.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, my teeth gritted, my muscles trembling.

She moved closer, her hips swaying with a predator’s grace. With a single finger, she traced the length of me, even through the barrier of my pants. The heat of her touch burned. My body shuddered.

A low, deep growl reverberated inside my chest, a sound only I could hear. This is fake. This is a trap. If you give in to that lust, you’ll lose everything. This is nature testing you. You’re running through a test right now. Fight it. Fight it hard.

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