The Triplet Alphas' Forbidden Temptation

The manor had fallen completely silent by the time Killian carried her downstairs.

The halls they passed through were bathed in the warm glow of wall lamps, their light dancing across the polished marble floors. Outside, rain still tapped steadily against the towering windows, though the violent storm had long since softened into a gentle drizzle. Every servant had retired for the night, leaving the enormous kitchen eerily quiet.

Killian set her carefully onto one of the tall wooden stools before taking a step back. The moment his arms left her, her skin buzzed with the sudden loss of warmth.

Yuki immediately pressed her knees together beneath the oversized shirt, willing her body to calm down. What happened in the hallway was a mistake.

She repeated the words over and over in her mind. A stupid mistake. It had happened because of the mate bond.

Because their instincts had overwhelmed them.

Because...

Her thoughts faltered.

No matter how many excuses she came up with, one truth kept refusing to disappear. She had wanted him. Not simply because fate insisted she should or because some invisible bond had manipulated her.

It had felt... right.

As though their bodies recognised each other in a way their hearts stubbornly refused to. That thought unsettled her more than anything else.

She forced herself to look away.

Killian had already walked towards the pantry. Dressed in nothing more than a black T-shirt and loose football shorts, he looked nothing like the intimidating Alpha she was used to seeing in perfectly tailored suits. He pulled open a cupboard, selected several jars, before disappearing briefly into the cold room.

When he returned, he placed fresh chicken, mushrooms, ginger, and spring onions onto the counter with practised ease.

Yuki blinked. She had honestly expected instant noodles or macaroni, or perhaps that he would wake a maid to prepare something. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves.

Could he actually cook?

The question lingered in her mind as she watched him search through the upper cabinets before locating a small saucepan. His movements were smooth and unhurried, as though he had done this countless times before. He rinsed the pan beneath running water before setting it over a low flame.

"What are you making?" she asked quietly.

Without looking up, Killian answered, "Congee."

Her eyes widened. He caught the expression as he reached for a chopping board.

"What?" he asked, a faint smile touching one corner of his mouth. "Surprised I know how to cook?"

"A little," she admitted honestly. "I never imagined an Alpha doing something so... ordinary."

A quiet scoff escaped him. "My mother disagreed." He began slicing ginger into paper-thin strips. "She insisted the three of us learn how to cook, clean, and handle basic chores."

His knife moved with a precise, effortless rhythm. "She always said power wasn’t an excuse to become helpless."

Yuki fell silent, thinking of their mother, Estelle. The woman whose marriage had been destroyed because of her sister. The conversation ended there. Only the soft sounds of cooking filled the kitchen.

Chicken simmered gently inside the pot as Killian stirred the rice with slow, patient movements. He added mushrooms, shredded the cooked chicken by hand, seasoned everything carefully, before lowering the heat again.

Nothing about him felt rushed. He watched the pot with complete concentration, adjusting the flame, tasting the broth once before adding another pinch of salt.

It didn’t look like someone completing a chore. It looked like someone who genuinely enjoyed the process. The rich aroma slowly filled the kitchen, warm rice, fresh ginger, earthy mushrooms, and chicken stock.

The scent wrapped itself around the room until even Yuki’s empty stomach growled softly.

Nearly half an hour later, Killian ladled the steaming congee into two bowls before sprinkling chopped spring onions across the surface. He poured a glass of chilled orange juice and placed it beside hers.

"There."

He slid the bowl towards her before taking the seat opposite. Yuki stared quietly at the meal. She still couldn’t understand him.

He could be cold enough to freeze an entire room with a single sentence. Yet here he was, cooking for her in the middle of the night.

A ridiculous thought drifted into her mind. It felt strangely domestic, like a boyfriend preparing dinner for someone he cared about.

The thought made her chest tighten. Except he wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t even someone who liked her. He was the man preparing to reject her. Whatever gentleness existed between them belonged to Eloise.

Not her.

She felt like someone borrowing a happiness that had never been hers to begin with.

"Aren’t you going to eat?" Killian’s voice pulled her back.

"You’ve been staring at the bowl for quite a while." His expression remained unreadable. "Don’t you like congee?"

She shook her head quickly. "No. That’s not it." She picked up the spoon. "It actually looks... really good."

Killian simply watched her. His gaze always felt strangely heavy, almost impossible to ignore. Taking a careful breath, she scooped up the first spoonful and brought it to her lips.

The warm congee melted across her tongue. Everything stopped. Her eyes widened. The familiar taste hit her with such force that her vision blurred.

A tear slipped silently down her cheek. It tasted exactly like home. Like the rainy evenings Aunt Lydia would spend in the kitchen after Yuki caught a cold as a child.

She remembered sitting at the little wooden table wrapped in blankets while Lydia fussed endlessly, insisting she finish every last spoonful. Aevia had always tried in her own way. She never missed birthdays and never forgot important days.

Even when work kept pulling her away from the pack, she always returned carrying presents and stories from distant places.

But Lydia...

Lydia had been the one who tucked her into bed. The one who chased away nightmares. The one whose tiny apartment had become the closest thing she’d ever known to a real home.

Yuki barely remembered her parents. They had died before those memories could properly form. Maybe that was why she clung so fiercely to the family she still had.

Even when the world insisted Aevia was the villain.

A warm touch brushed against her cheek, leaving sparks. She blinked. Killian’s thumb caught another tear before it could fall.

His brows drew together almost imperceptibly. "Why are you crying?" he asked quietly.

Her heart skipped. She quickly leaned away, wiping the remaining tears herself. "It’s nothing." Her voice sounded embarrassingly small. "I just... remembered someone."

She forced another spoonful into her mouth. "It’s really good." Killian studied her for another second before giving a small nod.

Without another question, he picked up his own spoon and began eating. The rest of the meal passed in comfortable silence.

When they finished, Killian gathered both bowls before carrying them to the sink. Yuki watched him rinse the dishes.

"You don’t have to wash those," she said.

"I know," he answered, turning on the tap. "Then why are you?" Yuki asked.

"They’re already dirty, and I want to," he replied.

She had absolutely no response to that. By the time he finished drying the last plate, she decided to climb down from the stool herself.

The moment both feet touched the floor, her weakened legs betrayed her. She stumbled. Her breath hitched as she fell, but before panic could register, strong hands caught her.

Killian crossed the distance so quickly she hadn’t even seen him move. Instead of letting her fall, he lifted her effortlessly and sat her on the kitchen counter.

His hands remained firmly around her waist. "Stop trying to walk everywhere," he said, his tone leaving little room for argument. "You’re still recovering."

She opened her mouth to protest. One look from him changed her mind.

Several minutes later, after checking that everything had been put away, Killian lifted her into his arms once more.

This time she didn’t struggle.

She simply rested quietly against his chest while he carried her back through the sleeping manor. The steady beat of his heart echoed beneath her ear.

She wondered, with an ache she couldn’t explain, if this would be the last time she would ever be this close to him.

"Killian..." He glanced down briefly. "Have you spoken to your brothers about... the rejection?"

His footsteps never slowed. "I have," he answered evenly.

Her fingers tightened slightly against his shirt. "What did they say?" she asked, and a long moment passed before he replied.

"They agreed."

The answer was simple. It was exactly what she had asked for. Exactly what she wanted.

So why did it hurt so much to hear?

Neither of them spoke again. By the time they reached his room, the silence had become almost tangible. Killian laid her gently back onto the bed before retrieving his laptop from the desk.

Within moments, the quiet clicking of keys filled the room once more. Yuki turned onto her side, closed her eyes, and tried to convince herself she was relieved.

Sleep was only beginning to pull her under when three soft knocks interrupted the silence.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

A hesitant voice drifted through the door.

"Killian..."

His fingers froze above the keyboard.

"...Are you there?"

Every muscle in his body stiffened.

He recognised that voice instantly.

Eloise.