The Triplet Alphas' Forbidden Temptation

Kaden glanced up at the sound of her footsteps, his piercing eyes locking onto hers.

An awkward, heavy silence stretched between them. Kaden broke the eye contact first, turning his head back towards the sink and staring silently at the running water.

Yuki took a slow step into the kitchen, crossing the distance between them until she reached the stove. She reached out and turned down the heat under the bubbling pot, immediately recognising the rich, aromatic herbs.

"You made hangover soup... and scalded yourself trying to take the lid off," she teased, her voice raspy from sleep and booze, though a small, wry smirk tugged at her lips. "I guess your legendary combat skills are completely useless in the kitchen."

Kaden scoffed softly. He turned off the faucet, grabbed a hand towel, and casually dried his skin. A second later, a soft white glow emanated from his palm, enveloping the ugly, angry burn. Within seconds, the blistering flesh smoothed over, leaving his skin completely unblemished.

The scald had been severe, one that would take a regular shifter anywhere from an hour to half a day to naturally regenerate. But for a royal member of the Ravencourt bloodline, the divine magic healed it in a matter of heartbeats.

"For someone who looks like a complete, unmitigated mess, you shouldn’t be taunting people," Kaden replied, his voice a low, dry rumble. He cleared his throat lightly, adjusting his posture before adding, "I made the soup to help with my own head."

Yuki hadn’t even asked him why he made it, yet he had offered an excuse before she could even press him. She almost sneered. Kaden had barely consumed two glasses of alcohol last night, and she knew for a fact his tolerance was far superior to that.

"Your tolerance must truly suck then," she said, leaning her hip against the counter, her voice laced with heavy scepticism. "Because if I remember clearly, you barely had two glasses."

Kaden snorted, throwing the towel onto the counter. "What is the last thing you actually remember?" he asked, his voice dripping with smooth condescension.

Yuki paused, her brow furrowing. Her memories of the previous night were a scrambled mess. She vaguely remembered dancing with Declan, and then following Aevia towards the patio... but everything after that was a dark, unreadable blur.

Seeing her lost, confused expression, Kaden tilted his head, a faint, mocking smirk touching his lips. "How sure are you that I only had one or two glasses when you can’t even remember half the night?"

Her jaw clenched tightly at his response. Realising she wasn’t going to win that argument, Yuki dropped the topic and pivoted straight to the question that was consuming her.

"Why am I here?" she asked, her voice dropping its playful edge as she struggled to keep her scattered thoughts organised.

Kaden didn’t answer right away. Instead, he grabbed two porcelain bowls, carefully dished out generous portions of the steaming soup, and slid one across the kitchen island towards her.

She gave him a sharp, questioning look.

"I’m bad with measurements," Kaden muttered offhandedly, avoiding her eyes as he picked up his own spoon. "I made too much. It’s better than throwing it out."

Hesitantly, Yuki reached for a spoon. But as her eyes tracked his movement, they caught something on his face that made her stomach instantly drop into a bottomless pit.

There was a fresh, faint cut resting on Kaden’s lower lip.

The exact same mark she had seen on her own face in the mirror.

Did something happen between us last night?

Her stomach twisted badly. She was in his private villa, wearing oversized clothes, with matching cuts on their lips. Driven by sudden, panicked anxiety, Yuki grabbed the bowl, scooped up a massive mouthful of the scorching soup, and swallowed it whole.

It burned her throat instantly, making her choke and burst into a fit of harsh coughing.

Kaden didn’t offer any soft, comforting words. He simply picked up a glass of warm water and slid it across the counter to her. "Don’t rush," he said plainly, his voice calm and unbothered.

Yuki coughed a few more times, grabbed the glass, and gulped the water down in greedy swallows. The moment her airway cleared, she slammed the glass on the marble counter and demanded, "What happened yesterday?"

Kaden took a slow, measured sip from his spoon before offering a simple, dismissive answer. "I saw you drunk out of your mind, zoning out in the garden. I brought you here before you could make a scene and embarrass yourself." He paused, setting his spoon down. "The Alpha residence was being used for Alexander and Aevia’s wedding night."

He stopped there, offering not a single detail more.

"Is that all?" she blurted out, her heart beating frantically against her ribs.

Kaden raised his dark brows, a faint, ambiguous glint entering his eyes as he took another small sip of soup. "Why?" he asked, his tone laced with a dangerous, teasing edge. "Did you want something more to happen?"

Yuki felt heat rush to her neck. "Then how did I get dressed?" she pressed, refusing to let him deflect.

"You dressed yourself," Kaden answered smoothly, his voice completely deadpan. "Unless you’re implying you wanted my assistance?"

Yuki’s brows furrowed deeply. She felt it in her bones. He was hiding something. It was bizarre. He wasn’t teasing her with his usual cruel bite, nor was he cussing her out. Something felt entirely off about his demeanour.

Then, her mind flashed back to the hallway she had walked through just minutes ago.

"Those paintings..." she began softly, her voice shifting tone. "Are they yours?"

Kaden froze. The relaxed posture he held instantly rigidified, and his eyes darkened. When he spoke, his voice went dangerously cold.

"Don’t tell a soul what you saw in that room," he hissed, the warning sharp enough to cut glass.

Confirmation hit her like a physical blow. They were his. Yuki’s eyes widened in genuine shock. She had never expected a ruthless, cold-blooded fighter like Kaden to possess such breathtaking artistic talent.

"Why?" she asked, stepping closer to the counter.

"It has nothing to do with you," he retorted sharply, clearly in no mood to pursue the subject.

But Yuki wasn’t going to let it drop.

"Why?" she repeated, her voice rising with persistent edge. "Because you have a room full of paintings dedicated to one girl without a face, and not a single one of your precious Eloise?"

Kaden’s spine snapped straight, his shoulders tense.

"Who is she, Kaden?" Yuki demanded.

Exhaustion, stress, and a complete lack of sleep since the previous night finally snapped Kaden’s remaining thread of self-control. He spun around, slamming his palm onto the counter with a loud thud.

"I don’t fucking know!" he barked out, his voice echoing violently off the kitchen walls.

Yuki flinched back at his sudden outburst, but what caught her off guard wasn’t his anger. It was the strange, agonising pain bleeding through his tone.

"Can you stop asking bloody questions?" Kaden breathed heavily, his eyes stormy and raw as he stared at her. "I don’t even know what her face looks like! How the hell am I supposed to know who she is?"

Silence swallowed the kitchen.

Yuki slowly lowered her spoon.

The pain in his voice had caught her completely off guard. At that moment, she genuinely didn’t have a sarcastic response ready.