Bloodbound To My Four Archenemies.

June 16 2026, 12:16pm.

All Nyx’ara had wanted to do was to exert her unwillingness to show anyone her ugly scars. What she had tried to do was make this doctor realize just how sensitive this was to her. However, nothing prepared her for the hostility she was met with.

Nothing prepared her for the words: "It is already bad enough that I need to touch you, murderer, so do not make my job here more uncomfortable than it already is."

For a moment, she simply stood there, staring at the doctor like the lady was an alien, and from the several books she’d read in the past, she immediately deduced that this woman was a little too hostile to be left alone with.

If she doesn’t want to touch me, then I won’t allow her to.

With a stronger conviction, Nyx’ara eyed Doctor Ivory with just enough iciness to freeze the entire planet, shook her head once, and hissed; "I-if you do-do not want to-to touch me, the-then don’t."

But how could she be taken seriously when her words still came out as a stutter?

How would this snobby Doctor hear the annoyance in her tone if her sentences were broken?

She took a step back for more effect, smiled brazenly at the woman who now had a stupefied look on her face, and continued:

"I-I may not ha-have any money o-or in-influence, but I ha-have my pride. I-if y-you are going to-to be rude to me for-for no reason, then you m-may go please."

Ivory froze. Slowly a twisted smile formed on her face. "You cannot stop me from doing my job."

Another thing that terrified Nyx’ara to her bones now was Ivory’s stubborn insistence on treating her despite making it known from the onset that she doesn’t wish to lay her hands on her— a murder.

She wondered why the other lady seemed so unhappy about her unwillingness to be treated when in a saner situation, she should be jumping for joy.

It didn’t make any sense.

Her hand tightened around her doorknob until her knuckles turned a ghostly white. "Yes, I-I c-can!" Nyx’ara shot back, "...es-especially since this-this so-called job of-of yours involves me!"

A muscle worked on the doctor’s jaw, followed by the barely noticeable twitching of her eyelid. Her eyes raked from Nyx’ara’s bare feet to her hand still desperately clutching at the doorknob and then she hissed; "Oh, girl, you will regret this!"

However, just as Nyx’ara drew herself to her full height, getting prepared to cut back with a retort that would be just as sharp and cutting, someone beat her to it.

"No, she won’t regret anything. Get out."

The voice vibrated through the air, rumbling through Nyx’ara’s body with so much intensity that her limbs almost failed her. Her breath escaped her lips in one smooth whoosh when Alpha Rhys materialized out of nowhere.

And when he walked over with the sure strides of a hunter circling his hunt, his eyes holding so much anger and so much irritation, Nyx’ara’s body quivered slightly.

However, upon closer observation, she realized to her surprise that his anger was not being directed at her. If anything, it was being directed at Doctor Ivory— which was strange.

He snapped again at her; "Get OUT!"

This time, Ivory was forced to break out of her stunned stillness. With desperate clumsy fingers, she picked up her toolbox, muttered a million apologies under her breath, and scurried out of Nyx’ara’s doorway as if she had just experienced a one-on-one with the devil himself.

Silence enveloped them as soon as she left, thundering across the room like an oppressive force.

Nyx’ara had half expected Alpha Rhys to yell at her for being so stubborn, so when he asked instead: "Was that doctor not to your liking?" She froze.

Her heart literally somersaulted in her chest. Her body thrummed with so much energy, it was insane.

She opened her mouth to respond but for some reason, no words would come out. And then she lowered her lashes.

"S-she seemed str-strange."

Rhys studied her face like one would study some exquisite painting at a gallery, and for the hundredth time since the past two days, he came to believe that she was way smarter than she looked.

In fact, she seemed too smart for someone who would willingly ruin her life by becoming a murderer... So in other words, he almost doubted that she had killed his sister.

Do not be deceived.

Shaking that thought off, he glanced at the other end of the corridor where Ivory had disappeared through and shrugged. "We will get you another doctor. One with less prejudice than Ivory Stone."

But for the life of her, Nyx’ara could not understand why he was being so understanding. Why he was putting her need above duty... why he and his brothers continued to give her a fine blend of hot and cold.

Her first reaction had been to tell him off. To lie that she was fine and did not need to be checked by a doctor. But after taking just one glance at him, at his well-structured face that seemed to glow in the dim light... at his ticking jaw that was as sharp as a razor blade... the words died in her throat.

She nodded. "Okay."

"Good then," Rhys drawled coldly, breaking the silence between them, "...another doctor will attend to you soon, and afterwards, you’ll come down for dinner with us."

Contrary to his cold tone, his words carried warmth. His gaze as he searched her face for answers, carried warmth.

However, Nyx’ara, on the other hand, couldn’t stop turning over his request in her mind. She frowned.

Dinner?

With them?

She could not remember the last time she ate with anybody. Even before being condemned to jail, she had always been the runt of her family and had been forced to live in the filthiest wing very close to the servants’ quarters.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were always eaten alone while her family wined and dined with Elara being the shiny star amongst them.

So this was strange.

Not just strange but absurd too.

Or wait, am I dinner? Am I what they want to have for dinner?

She was jolted out of these thoughts when warm hands rested on her shoulder, and surprisingly, the touch was a little too gentle. A little too soft.

Rhys’ voice reached her ears before she could pull away from him. He drawled; "Go in."

But she didn’t. She stood rooted in place.

"Come on, go into your room!" He tried again, his voice sharper this time, and with heavy feet, she slipped into her room and slammed the door shut behind her.

It wasn’t until she had slipped into the room and was separated from him by the large doors that she realized that her heart was racing against her chest. It wasn’t until she heard his footsteps walking down the hall and away from her door that she realized how badly she had been shaking.

This may sound twisted but for the first time in six years, someone had shown an iota of care for her... even though the said person was her tormentor himself.

Feeling weak, she slipped down the wall and pressed her knees to her chest. She didn’t even realize she had been crying until her face was wet and her top was soaked through.

Her heart felt unreasonably heavy and in that moment of weakness, she noticed something that she hadn’t before.

She realized the reason these scary four brothers think she is their mate.

Because she felt it too. Not just the attraction she felt for them... not the continuous flipping of her heart.

A connection— a real one like the one she’d felt with Flynn when she discovered he was her mate. Yes, that same one.