Help! Five Beast Alphas Want To Breed Me!!(BL)

Asa;

They watch him like he is made of glass. At first, I found it fascinating, but now, it’s just... infuriating.

Why can’t they leave him alone for one moment! Just one!!! Aren’t these the brothers people claimed were usually cold and distant!? What happened now?? In a span of how long, they’ve bothfallen in love with him??

Nonsense!

Zerana keeps her voice low and contained as she guides Elian through stretches meant to soften joints and coax patience into a body that seems to have never known how to stay still.

Zethar and Zephan sit in the distance, pretending to be at leisure, but I can tell that despite looking so... casual, they are watching him. Like fucking... guardians... Fucking barriers.

I hate barriers.

Elián straightens, laughter spilling from him as he shakes out his arms. The sound lands in my chest with a dull, unwelcome weight. And for a moment, my steps falter.

His words come back to me uninvited.

How his voice was steady. Certain. Stubborn in a way I had not prepared for.

I don’t want revenge.

The words had lodged themselves in my mind like a splinter. Small. Irritating and Impossible to ignore.

Who refuses revenge when it seems so justified??

When it’s calling so... brightly...?

Who looks at loss, as the punishment for injustice... and chooses something else?

I need to understand him. I need to understand why.

What he means. Could he be planning something sinister? Or does he have a suspicion of who I truly am, and only said that to distract me?? I can’t know anything for sure unless I talk to him.

And to do so, I need to get him away from these fucking brothers.

I step forward and barely take two strides before the atmosphere rearranges itself.

When from the corner of my eyes, I see Zethar move.

He doesn’t rush. He never seems to.

He simply marches over to where I’m headed and places himself between Elian and me.

His body is firm like a wall built for war. His figure blocks the morning sun, and his shadow spills over me like a warning.

”No,” he says flatly, and I stop walking.

No?

Slowly, I lift my gaze to meet his, and I almost smile at how vicious... but harmless he is.

His eyes are sharp, hostile, already decided to ’hurt’ me if I take another step. There is no curiosity about me in those eyes. No doubt about my intentions. There’s just knowledge. Knowledge and refusal to let me close to my goal.

He scowls at me like I am something he can squash, and that’s when I feel it. That familiar curl beneath my ribs that leads to results that usllay leaves only me smiling.

I feel the emotions tangle into a vicious knot in my stomach, and I take a deep breath to calm myself.

Offence and anger, beg an erotic dance inside me, and beneath it, something else hums quietly.

Impatience.

This young man is exactly the problem I thought he was. And I have an irritation in addition to eliminating problems.

”I only wanted to speak to Master Elian,” I say, keeping my voice mild and measured.

They may suspect me, but letting my emotions or thoughts ever slip out through my voice would be me foolishly laying myself on the sacrificial altar of their confirmation and wrath.

I can’t slip like that.

”Alana sent me to check on him. To see if he needs anything.” I add, and behind Zethar, I see Elian freeze.

His smile fades, and confusion bleeds in his expression. His eyes dart between us, with fear flickering in them before worry takes its place. He’s scared of me??

Well... I guess he’s much wiser than I give him recognition for. That’s all the more reason I need to dig into the response he gave me that night.

He is trying to read the room and failing. Poor thing. You may suspect me, but you’ll never EVER fully understand me. Even my precious Avaren is still learning, and this little boy thinks he can just...

”Where’s Alana?” Elian’s small voice then questions. Ripping into my thoughts and drawing my attention to him.

I blink at him for a moment and then bow in false respect before responding.

”She’s resting, Master,” I reply, and my words are accompanied by Zethar’s laughter.

It is a short, mocking, ugly sound.

”If Alana doesn’t know how to do her job,” He then snaps suddenly, and I blink at him in confusion.

”Then she can ask us to assign someone else in her place.” He adds, and I blink once.

However, he continues, with his voice rising now.

”Alana knows her place. If Eliann needs something, she can come herself. You don’t get to hover. You don’t get to check on him. You don’t get to be anywhere near him.” He adds, and the field has gone silent.

Even Zerana stops moving.

I feel my temper press against the inside of my skull, a storm banging against carefully locked doors.

It would be so easy. One word. One push... one... snap of my fingers and my mana would have his bones ripped from his flesh.

He’s dying for it. Asking for it... begging for it at this point, but he is SO lucky I didn’t come here with the intention of violence. So, I do nothing.

I smile instead.

A careful little hoax. Thin, polite, and beautifully poisonous.

My hands remain loose at my sides, my posture unthreatening to keep me looking as harmless as possible.

”They’re allowing you to stay,” Zethar adds coldly, leaning closer to me now, and I don’t forget the ceremonial flinch that this performance I’ve been putting up needs.

He scoffs at the sight of it, but I see Elian’s eyes soften a bit. Good.

”But don’t mistake that tolerance... for trust,” Zethar adds, and I stare up at him.

Tempted to wrap my mana around his throat and break that throat of his so he never utters another sound.

Oh, the sweet chaos that would cause. But... I have to practise that very tolerance that this imbecile just spoke about.

So, I pout a little, make my lips tremble, and my eyes a bit moist as I look past him, at Elian, who’s been watching silently.

”I’m sorry. I... i just wanted to help,” I begin, but Zethar barks, cutting me off.

”Don’t!” He screams, and this time, from behind him, Elian moves.

I watch through my lashes as he steps closer to Zethar, nervously, and places a hand on Zethar’s arm. The touch is gentle. Small. Intimate in a way that speaks of shared emotions and unspoken understanding.

A subtle touch that has an effect on Zethar like cold water on previously steaming skin.

”Zethar,” Elian whispers, with his grip tightening, now.

”It’s alright.” He adds, and Zethar turns to look at him.

Their eyes meet.

Something passes between them that I can not help but see. A silent exchange. A wordless plea from Elian. A silent promise, Zethar. Elian leans in slightly, his body angled in quiet reassurance.

This probes me, as I have no idea what they’re talking about. When did they learn to communicate without words?

Zethar suddenly huffs, jaw tightening, as his shoulders remain rigid, but he does not pull away from Elian’s touch.

His anger does not leave him, but it softens. Just enough, and I watch all of it.

I take note of it.

Zethar turns back to me then. His voice is a bit softer now, but still furious.

”Get lost.”

The words are an order and an insult.

I hold his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, letting my displeasure bleed through just a little. Letting him see that he has struck something solid beneath the softness I’ve been struggling to put on.

Then I incline my head. Submitting for now.

”As you wish, Alpha,” I whisper before turning away.

I walk with measured steps, unhurried, my back straight, and expression serene.

I do not look back. I can feel all their eyes on me, including Zephan, who didn’t even leave his spot.

So this is how it is? Fine then. I understand it now.

To reach Elian, I must go through them. The Alpha Brothers.

They hover around him like twin guards. Different in method but equal in devotion.

One is sharp-edged and explosive, and the other is quiet and watchful. Always thinking three moves ahead.

Together, they are a lock. And I am very good at breaking locks.

As I leave the field, the ghost of Elian’s voice follows me. That damned sentence. That refusal.

I don’t want revenge.

I had thought it weakness at first.

Now, I wonder if it is something far more dangerous. A trick. A ploy...

No matter.

Understanding him does not require kindness.

...And reaching him does not require permission.

If the brothers keep standing in my way, then they will simply have to be removed.

One way or another.

A dark smile tints my lips as I keep walking.

Killing twin Ashfang sons in their own home? Oh, this ought to be fun.