Mated to the Triplet Alphas-Chapter 40: Sweet and Sour

Wearing a short fur-lined jacket, Annie’s lips were painted blood-red. She waltzed in like she owned the place. On her arm was a guy I vaguely recalled—Joshua, I think his name was. Tall, muscular, smirking. Trailing behind them were four other guys, all loud and cocky, their laughter echoing through the diner like bad weather.

They slid into a booth in my section.

Greta was in the back with deliveries.

I took a breath. I could do this. Just stay professional. Be polite.

I approached their table, notepad and pen in hand.

“Good morning,” I began. “What can I get—”

Annie cut me off. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Emberfang Cinderella.”

I didn’t rise to the bait. “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

“I’ll have sparkling water,” she said with a smirk. “Make sure the lemon’s exactly three centimeters thick. I’ve got sensitive taste buds.” freewёbnoνel.com

“Coffee. Black. Two drops of cream,” Joshua added lazily, not looking up from his phone.

The rest chimed in with equally ridiculous orders—an omelet with the yolks of two eggs but whites of four, toast that had to be ‘golden but not crunchy,’ and pancakes cut into the shape of wolves.

One of the guys, Callum, didn’t say anything. He just frowned.

“Guys, come on,” he muttered.

“Oh, relax, Cal,” Annie said sweetly. “Hazel loves playing servant.”

I turned away, jaw tight, and punched in the orders.

The next hour was torture. Every time I brought something to their table, they found something wrong with it.

“The syrup’s too warm.”

“The water’s too cold.”

“Are you sure you washed your hands, Hazel?”

My hands curled tighter around the tray with every passing insult. The sting of humiliation buzzed under my skin. I smiled through clenched teeth. Every trip to their booth felt like a walk through fire.

It wasn’t just the orders; they kept laughing at private jokes, staring at me too long, letting their eyes drag over my body like I was an object.

I was a spectacle again, not a person. I hated that feeling. I’d worn it for years, and it still fit too well.

Then came the comments.

“I hear she’s mated to all three Sullivan brothers,” one of the guys snickered. “Damn. That’s a full-course meal.”

“Bet she howls real pretty, too.”

I froze, tray in hand, breath stuck in my throat.

Callum pushed back his chair, glaring. “Knock it off.”

Joshua waved him off. “Relax, man. We’re just messing around.”

Callum turned to me. “Sorry, Hazel. Seriously. I didn’t know they were gonna be like this.”

I nodded stiffly. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. But I didn’t want to make it a big deal.

I came back with their orders of omelette and toast. As I leaned to place it down, Joshua smirked.

“Oops.”

He accidentally knocked the tray sideways with his elbow.

Hot food spilled down my arm. The sizzle came before the sting.

I gasped, dropping the tray. My skin flared red and angry, pain blooming up to my shoulder.

The shock hit first, then the pain. It was sharp, radiating, like a hundred fire ants biting into my skin.

My eyes welled up without warning—not from the burn, but from the sudden, crushing wave of shame.

I had tried so hard to build something for myself, to find dignity again... and here I was, humiliated and hurting in front of a crowd. My fists clenched. I didn’t want to cry, but I was close.

“Are you kidding me?” Callum shouted, jumping to his feet. “She’s burned, you idiot!”

Joshua shrugged. “It was an accident.”

Annie snorted. “She’s used to spills. Probably cleans faster when it hurts.”

That was it.

Callum shoved Joshua hard. The chair toppled backward. Customers gasped. Plates clattered. People stood up to get out of the way.

“You think this is funny?” Callum snapped. “She’s the Sullivan brothers’ mate! If they find out—”

“They won’t,” Joshua interrupted, standing now, his fists clenched. “Unless you tell them.”

“Try me,” Callum said. “I’d love to see you get your teeth rearranged.”

Annie got between them, smirking. “Wow. You’ve got a real hero complex, Cal. Cute.”

Greta burst out from the back then, eyes flashing with fury. “What the hell is going on here?”

“They started it,” Annie said sweetly, flipping her hair. “Hazel dropped the food, and then they started fighting.”

I was cradling my arm, trying not to wince. Greta took one look at it and growled, “Break room. Ice. Now.”

Callum came over to help me. As we walked, I heard Annie call out, “Don’t forget to mop the floor, Hazel!”

Callum froze mid-step.

He turned, jaw tight, fury radiating off him like a furnace. “You think this is funny?” he growled, marching back toward their booth.

“Callum, don’t—” I started, but it was too late.

Joshua was already standing, cracking his knuckles like he wanted a round two. “What, you gonna cry to the triplets now?” he taunted. “Or are you just pissed ‘cause you wish she was your mate?”

Annie laughed behind him. “Aw, poor Cal. Always playing the white knight for girls who wouldn’t look at him twice.”

That did it.

Callum lunged.

His fist cracked against Joshua’s jaw, loud enough to turn every head in the diner. Joshua stumbled back into the table with a grunt, knocking over a glass of water that shattered on the floor. One of the other guys tried to jump in, but Callum swung around, blocking him with an elbow and pushing him aside.

“You want some too?” Callum shouted. “Back off!”

Greta stormed forward again, yelling something, but it was drowned in the chaos. Customers scrambled away from the booth. Chairs screeched across the tile. Someone shouted to call the cops.

Joshua spat blood and came back swinging. He caught Callum in the ribs, but Callum barely flinched. He tackled Joshua to the floor, fists flying. The other guys shouted, trying to pull him off, but Callum was done being quiet.

“You think this is funny?” Punch.

“She’s not your toy.” Punch.

“She’s a Luna, you idiot.” Punch.

I stood frozen, ice pack forgotten in my hand, my heart hammering in my ears. Greta tried to wedge herself between them, but they were too far gone.

Suddenly, the air shifted. Heavy. Electric. The bell above the door didn’t even jingle this time—it just slammed open, hitting the wall with a bang that silenced the entire room.

Liam stood there. His eyes zeroed in on me, then on the fight, and something in him snapped.

He didn’t say a word.

He didn’t need to.

The growl that tore from his throat was deep, ancient, and enough to make everyone freeze like prey caught in a predator’s shadow. Even Callum backed away instinctively, chest heaving, blood on his knuckles.

Joshua rolled over with a groan, coughing, and tried to sit up.

Liam crossed the diner in three strides.

His hands went to my arm first. While his touch was gentle, his face was furious. “Who did this?”

My lips parted, but I didn’t get a chance to answer. Liam’s voice was low, cold, and final.

“Which one of you wants to explain why my mate is burned and crying?”