Mated to alpha triplets at all-boys school Chapter 234

Hunter spy pov

I hate their smell. No, it’s not a smell, it’s a stench. Awful, rotten, so disgusting it crawls up your throat and sits there, digging its claws in deep, refusing to leave. 

Wolves, bears, whatever they are, the stench clings to them like a second skin. It’s thick and musky, impossible to be mistaken for anything but the creatures that are surrounded by it. 

It’s the kind of stench that no amount of fresh forest air and chemicals can wash away. 

But regardless, I smile anyway and tilt my head just enough to show submission without coming across as weak and useless. Respect is what I pretend to have. 

This isn’t the first time I play this part. I’m supposed to be the outcast, the rogue, the lost soul who has nowhere else to go. 

Really, it’s an easy role to slip into, so easy in fact, it’s becoming my alter ego. It’s even easier to pretend with them around me. 

They’re so damn predictable, it’s laughable. The supernaturals think they’re smart, sharp and observant but in reality, they’re easily fooled. 

Those morons are always so damn eager to accept the strays. They take in the broken things with their arms wide open, almost like their life mission is to prove that they’re better than us. 

“We don’t trust outsiders easily,” Constantine, downright the most massive motherfucking bear I’ve ever faced, says. His voice is deep and gravelly, adding that hint of danger to his already scary persona. He towers over me and crosses his arms in front of his chest, frowning like he’s looking down at shit, not a person. “Why are you here?” 

I keep my eyes downcast to the ground, just like I practiced. Not too submissive. “I’m alone,” I whisper, keeping up with the charade. “My pack turned on me. I fought my way out, but now I can’t go back either. I heard about you, about your small pack, so I thought,” I trail off, giving him a chance to take control of the situation and finish the sentence for me.

It’s always better to let them take the lead, that way, I only feed his ego and drive for control if I make him believe he’s the one who’s making the decision. 

“What have you heard about us? Who is the one who’s talking about my brothers and I?” Constantine asks, his words dripping with suspicion. 

If I were to tell him the truth, I’d look into his eyes and start mumbling about the girl. At this point, everyone knows there’s a chick who’s being protected by a pack of outcast bears. 

Or, that he’s holding away the embodiment of a key that might make or break the war in the making. 

But I don’t say any of those things. Instead, I choose a different tactic. “I’ve heard that you’re different from the others. That you don’t turn people away if they have nowhere else to go. Everyone talks about you, everyone knows who Constantine is.” I glance up for a few seconds, giving myself enough time to channel as much desperation in my gaze as possible. 

Kind of helps a lot that desperation isn’t hard to fake. I’ve seen enough actual desperation to know how it looks, the only difference is that this time, the roles are reversed and I’m the “weak link”. 

Constantine’s sharp gaze studies me for a long moment, his facial expression unreadable. 

This bear shifter is smarter than others I’ve met before. He’s also more cautious, almost like he’s overthinking every word I say, mainly to use it against me like a weapon later if need be. 

And that fact alone makes him incredibly dangerous. 

“You’re wounded,” he finally mutters, completely ignoring my previous words. Then, he nods at the bandage wrapped around my upper arm. “What happened?” 

“A fight,” I answer too quickly, lowering my gaze again. “One of the others in my pack didn’t like it that I disagreed with him. I’m not looking for trouble. I just want a place to lay low.”

Constantine doesn’t answer straight away. He looks me over, from head to toe, and I can physically feel his gaze wherever it focuses. It’s one of the downsides of the shifters, they look at you almost like they look through you. 

I hold my breath and count the seconds, waiting until he gives me the verdict of whatever decision he has made. 

Finally, he steps back and nods at the man standing behind him. “Keep an eye on him, Greg. If he so much as twitches the wrong way, I want to know.” 

“Sure thing,” the man, Greg, grins. “You going to check up on that freak? He’s been asking for you for hours, whining like a little bitch.” 

Constantine grumbles something under his breath and walks away, disregarding the questions. 

Greg, on the other hand, nods in a direction to our left and grins at me. “Come along, I’ll show you our little camp then.” 

I follow, acting like the fool I’m supposed to be. The group of bears is smaller than I expected, but it doesn’t matter for now because I have a feeling more will join Constantine soon enough. Also, numbers aren’t what I’m after here. 

I’m after her. 

The camp is small, quiet and for now, it looks like Constantine, Greg, whoever the third one is and the girl has to be the only ones who reside here. 

Seems that Constantine trusts me enough to let me sit by the fire of the camp, but not enough to leave me unguarded. I get it, he has to be careful, but I definitely don’t enjoy the company. 

Greg sits not far from me, pulls a knife from his bag and starts sharpening it. There are occasional glances, but no words. And as the time slips by, he remains silent. He hasn’t said another word, but I need him to. I need someone loud-mouthed to spill the secrets. 

Sighing, I stare into the fire. There isn’t much to do here and until more of Constantine’s men finally start arriving, I can’t know for sure how they will change this camp. I need that moment, when all of them are properly made themselves comfortable here, so I can memorize everything about the camp’s layout.

The painfully obvious realization is that there’s no sign of her. At least, not yet. 

“Do you guys always keep things this quiet? Isn’t the vibe here a little too eerie?” I ask Greg, my gaze still focused on the fire. 

He grunts but doesn’t look up at me. “Quiet is good, not eerie. Quiet means we are still alive.”

I nod, biting back the urge to push for more. Patience - that’s the key. Too many questions, and they’ll start asking their own. Instead, I shift the conversation in a different direction. “Constantine is the leader, right? What is he like?”

The bear-shifter chuckles. “He’s fair, many would say too fair for his own good. Don’t take it as a sign of weakness, though. If I were you, I wouldn’t risk crossing someone like Constantine.”