Offered to the Triplet Alphas

[Xanthea]

Nesryn called someone while I stayed in the foyer. Standing by the intricately designed arched window, I peered outside.

My brain identified as many plants and herbs as it could, matching the details and sketches I had seen in my mother's books and diaries. But there were still a lot more plants I couldn't identify.

I gasped, awestruck, gazing at the red butterfly. Its wings were as though made of thin slices of glowing red crystals with dark and gold patterns mixing gracefully with one another as it flapped its long-tailed wings. It was twice the size of a normal butterfly and a thousand times more beautiful and magical.

The butterfly fluttered past the window glass. I waved at it excitedly, as though it would wave back at me. Unaware of how sheepishly I was smiling, I couldn't take my eyes off it.

It landed on a flower with translucent whitish blue petals. Pressing my palm and nose against the cold glass, my eyes followed the butterfly.

"It has always fascinated me how petty things hold the power to bring something as mysterious as a smile onto someone's face in mere seconds. A butterfly, for instance..."

Before I turned around to figure out the source of the deep resonating voice, a tall, well-built man stood right beside me. His deep blue eyes contemplated the butterfly. His platinum hair was partially coiffed on the back while the fringes falling over his forehead and eyelids were frivolously at the mercy of winds.

Sliding the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbow, he slid his hands into his black pants pockets. He tilted his head, analyzing the butterfly intently that flexed his sharp jawline and handsome facial features.

"Does this butterfly make you happy?" He asked.

I wasn't sure who he was or if or how I was supposed to reply to him. So I remained silent and pretended to be gazing at the butterfly.

"Wouldn't you capture it? Keep it in a cage and adore it at your leisure. Or maybe better. You can catch it, kill it and then pin it with preservatives. Then its beauty will forever be yours. Dead, but yours. Should I catch it for you?"

He stretched out his hand over the glass of the window and gestures as if he had the power to catch the butterfly in mid-air without touching it.

"No..." I said, keeping my voice low. "Please don't catch it. Please don't cage it and please don't kill it."

He tensed his brows and then looked at me.

"Why not? Wouldn't you be sad when it's gone? You might never see it again."

"Sad?" I shook my head. "No."

"Why?"

"I think it's beautiful only because it's free and alive. You take away any of those and its beauty wouldn't ever be the same again."

"Why not?"

"Because then it will have scars and no matter how much you glorify scars, they'll always be ugly to the one carrying them, an eternal reminder of something they wish to forget..."

"I'll make sure it doesn't get hurt when I cage it."

"There has been no cage that hasn't wounded the one inside it, and not all wounds are visible," I said.

The butterfly fluttered its wings and took off flying higher and higher, far away from us, and I couldn't have been more relieved.

He scratched his chin.

"Maybe you're right," he said.

I glanced once at him, then swiftly looked outside the window. My gaze froze, and then I cautiously looked at him again.

A painful scar had appeared from his neck and covered half of his face.

His eyes locked with mine, and I swiftly dropped my gaze.

"Alpha Raven and Alpha Ezra say this scar looks cool on me and that I should wear it with pride. Alpha Asher doesn't react much. It's actually difficult to comprehend him. But they are the only ones who act like it isn't a big deal. Others can barely look at it. Honestly..." he looked at his faint reflection in the window's glass. "I can barely look at myself. So..." he ran his fingers across his chin, and the scar disappeared. "So, I hide it away. Makes living with myself easier." I pursed my lips in a thin line.

"By the way, isn't our pack a cage for you?" He asked.

I dropped my gaze.

Maybe that was why I liked to see the butterfly free and admire it, for it had something I couldn't even dream of.

'We often fancy someone who is the ideal version of how we wish to see ourselves.' My mother's words flashed before my eyes.

"Maybe... that is why I like butterflies..." I mumbled.

"There's another thing about butterflies. They themselves never see how beautiful they are..." He contemplated me closely.

He smiled softly, shifting his gaze beyond the window. His voice toned down to a deep whisper.

"You are beautiful beyond the comprehension of a painter's art and condensation of a muser's words. You should be free, just like that butterfly. I know you're here against your will. So tell me, your highness, do you wish... to be free?"

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I feverishly curled my fingers around my hand as I lowered my gaze.

I had left behind all the impossible dreams like being free in the Earthly realm. I no longer had a dream I yearned to pursue, not even freedom. Maybe there was only one thing I looked forward to and feared at the same time - death. He stepped closer. "I can help you get out-"

"Beta Draknor!" Nesryn called as she strutted closer to us.

B-beta?

She glared at Draknor and then shifted her gaze to me.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nesryn questioned in a warning tone.

Draknor turned to face Nesryn.

"Just a friendly chit-chat with the new bride and some admiring," he smiled, facing Nesryn. "Why? Are you jealous?"

Nesryn squinted her eyes before rolling it.

"You are my only ex who survived just because you are the beta of the Prime pack, but that can change any time, so if I were you, I wouldn't play around, beta Draknor." Nesryn glared at him.

He smiled faintly. "You can still call me DK, mia cara."

"Might as well call you a dick, beta."

He chuckled. "If I am not wrong, this is the same dick you once wanted all over yourself. Still can't stop thinking about it, huh?"

"Fuck off!" Nesryn scoffed, held my hand and dragged me with herself as she flounced upstairs. I had to run to keep up with her pace. "That fucking jerk! Dumbass bastard! Stay away from him, Xanthea. And if he tries to talk to you, punch him in his fucking face!"

Once we were on the first floor, we took an elevator and before I knew I was in Raven's office.

"Raven asked me to tell you to wait here. I'll head back to my work. Something urgent came up," she said.

"Umm. All the best with your work," I said.

She tensed her brows with a confused, awkward smile.

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"Thanks, I guess?" she looked very unsure as she replied.

I smiled with a soft nod.

"Ok! Remember, stay here until he comes. Don't leave his office, ok? And don't touch plants or anything at all. First, Raven doesn't like anyone touching his things, especially his plants. They are like his precious babies to him. He can't let any harm come their way. So, even if you pluck a leaf, he's gonna kill you. And second, this place is filled with things that can easily kill you. So..." she shrugged, receiving a call and strolled out of the office, leaving me all by myself in the silent office.

Raven's office was more like a private suite, with a spacious designer desk and chairs near the floor to ceiling glass walls behind. One could easily monitor every corner of the garden and forest within the palace's precinct.

Ceiling high bookshelves filled with books. Indoor plants, charts and artworks took the rest of the space. There was a private bathroom, a breakroom and a private laboratory furnished with glass jars filled with herbs, chemicals and glowing potions.

I scanned through the bookshelves and the plants, but I didn't dare touch anything.

Now that I was all by myself, uneasiness slowly made its way into my mind again.

What I had done was on half-impulse and half-drive-to-help, but if it had offended Raven, there was nothing I could say or do to avoid any further trouble with him.

Maybe I didn't have to wait for a week for the worst to happen and for some reason that didn't scare me as much as I thought it would.

Rubbing my clammy palms together, I stood against the glass wall, watching the black clouds slowly engulf the red ones. Usually my thoughts would run astray and I would imagine the worst scenario or how I could escape it. But at that moment, I strangely wasn't thinking much.

I looked at his desk. Apart from the portion that was taken up by his monitor and keyboard, his desk was covered with books, a pile of blank parchments, golden ink pots with fountain pens, normal pens, all kinds of pens, some unfinished sketches of plants and... strange creatures.

Something rustled behind me as if it was slowly creeping towards me. My fingers pressed against the edge of the desk as I stood, too frozen to move.

I turned around with a jolt, my heart thudding in my chest. In the hurry, I hadn't even noticed that my dress had brushed against leaves of the plants nearby.

I scanned the office, but there was nothing unusual or out of place.

Did I imagine it?

I glanced outside the glass wall and saw the same red butterfly from before. I peered at it and it seemed as if it was looking back at me just as intently.

"AH!"

Pain bolted through my leg as something lashed at my ankle, coiled itself with a strangling grip of a snake.

Parchments fluttered chaotically in the air. Ink pots shattered into fragments. Ink spilled and spoiled the floor and fallen parchment. Pens rolled wildly across the floor as my hands slammed across the desk.

I impulsively reached out to hold on to something before the office spun before my eyes. My mind went completely blank as I tripped and fell face-down onto the floor.