Claimed by three shadows

I keep my compound bow across my lap like it's the last honest thing left in the world. The string is worn smooth from years of pressure under my fingers the limbs nicked and scarred and I wouldn't change a single mark. Nothing in my life gets polished anymore not the bow, not this house, not what's left of the world.

The house sags on its rotting foundation, half-swallowed by weeds and blackened by the storms that tore through three winters ago and never really left. One window is boarded with warped plywood the another stuffed with old blankets and a tarp that slaps angrily in the wind like a half-hearted warning.

The roof leaks. The floorboards groan under every step. The whole thing smells of dust, wet ash, and rust.

It's a shithole but I like it fine.

Town is the real problem. The supernaturals took it years ago, and they don't bother hiding anymore. Vampires run the markets. Shifters enforce the roads. Things with too many teeth sit in the old government halls and call it order.

I don't go. Not today. Not ever.

My family's gone taken one by one until their names feel like knives in my throat and this broken house at the edge of nowhere fits what's left of me. Out here, no one expects me to kneel like they expected all humans too.

Outside after a while of walking I shift the bow nock an arrow and watch the tree line where the shadows thicken too early. Something moves between the trunks. Fox, maybe.

Worse, probably.

Doesn't matter. My aim stays steady. I have no intention of becoming prey. Let town keep its monsters. I've got my own way of surviving.

I draw breathe out and loose the arrow. The string snaps with a familiar thwack. A sharp squeal cuts through the dusk then silence. Rabbit. Small but enough for tomorrow.

I sling the bow over my shoulder and head for the tree line, boots crunching through dead leaves and half-frozen mud. The rabbit lies against a fallen log my arrow buried deep behind its ribs. I kneel and yank the arrow free and wipe the blood off on my thigh. Warm. Still twitching a little. Good enough.

As I stand my foot catches a hidden root rotted and slick with moss. I pitch forward hard. My forearm slams into a jagged shard of rusted rebar jutting from the ground like a broken bone. Pain flares hot and immediate. Blood wells up fast dark against my skin.

"Fuck," I hiss clamping my other hand over the cut. It's not deep but it's bleeding like it wants to be noticed. My pulse kicks up. Blood. Out here. At dusk. They can smell a drop from half a mile if the wind's right. Vampires especially. Some of the shifters too, if they're in the right form.

I don't have time for this shit. I've never fucking done this before never been stupid enough to bleed in the open like some god damn amateur. My heart was hammering I rip a strip from the bottom of my already ragged shirt and wrap it tight around my forearm and knot it with my teeth. The fabric darkens immediately. Not perfect but it'll hold until I'm inside.

I grab the rabbit by the ears still warm and limp now and start moving. Every step feels louder than it should. The wind shifts carrying voices from the old service road that curves too close to my property for comfort now. Two men. Low rough laughter. One of them sounds like he's chewing on gravel.

"...said the new pack's moving in from the east. Looking for tithes."

"Long as they stay out of my run, I don't give a shit. Blood's blood."

then I hear a third that says "Do you smell that?"

I freeze for half a second then cut hard left circling wide through the thicker brush. Thorns snag my jacket. My arm throbs in time with my heartbeat. Every twenty yards I pause listening and breathing through my mouth so I don't give myself away. The loop adds ten minutes and scrapes the hell out of me but I'm not walking straight into whatever the hell those are. Town's monsters don't wander this far unless they're hunting something.

By the time the sagging roof of my house comes back into view the sky has gone the color of old bruises. I slip through the back door bolt it behind me and drop the rabbit into the sink. Only then do I let myself sag against the counter unwrapping the makeshift bandage. The cut stares back at me ugly angry and unfortunately still bleeding.

I exhale shakily and press a cleaner rag against it hard.

They won't smell me tonight. Not through these walls. Not if I'm careful.

but I knew the broken windows and the hole in my roof didn't help conceal anything.

But tomorrow I'll have to be smarter.

I press the rag tight against my forearm rabbit blood still swirling down the rusty drain. The house feels smaller now. Thinner walls. Weaker locks.

Then the footsteps reach the yard three heavy sets crunching through weeds and glass.

"...it's her blood." Low, rough voice. Vampire, for sure. "You catching that pull? Fuck."

A colder smoother one answers. Another Vampire. "Yeah. Stronger than I expected. Hits right in the chest. She's the one."

Third voice, gravelly and impatient. "Told you the scent would lead somewhere worth it. This shithole of all places."

My stomach drops. Oh God damn it.

I kill the lantern fast snatch the bow and nock an arrow with shaking hands. I slide into the deepest shadow by the door back against the rotting wall arrow aimed dead at the center of it. If they break through the first one gets a broadhead at close range.

They stop right outside. Close enough I can hear their breathing.

"Come out," one of them calls their voice edged. "We smelled the blood trail. Fresh. We know you're hurt in there."

The other one tone drops almost amused but tight. "This one's different. You feel it too, right? Not just any stray."

"Yeah," the third one mutters. "She's ours. No question. Whole damn bond's waking up."

One of them growls under his breath. "she's human so she doesn't know it yet. But she will."

The doorknob rattles hard. "Last chance, girl. Open up and come out... or we're coming in. Your blood's calling us either way."

I grip the bow tighter breath locked in my throat. Ours? Bond? What the fuck are they talking about? Some territory claim? Some sick game? My arm burns where the cut keeps seeping, and I know every word they say is soaked in the scent of it.

I don't answer. I just keep the arrow drawn my jaw clenched and my pulse hammering so loud I'm scared they'll hear it through the wood.

They're not leaving.

The doorknob rattles harder then a heavy shoulder slams into the wood. The old frame cracks on the first hit. On the second the bolt rips free with a screech of rusted metal.

I don't wait to see their faces.

The second I hear the door burst open I'm already moving low and fast through the dark kitchen toward the back. I snatch the bow and a handful of arrows as I pass the table my heart exploding in my chest. Back door. Now.

I yank the rear door open just as one of them shouts behind me, "She's running!"

Cold night air hits my face. I sprint into the trees my boots pounding over roots and dead leaves the cut on my forearm screaming with every swing of my arm. The makeshift bandage is already soaked through. I don't look back. I just run bow clutched tight in one hand arrows rattling in the other.

They're fast. Too fast.

I hear them crashing through the brush behind me their voices carrying on the wind.

"Easy! Don't scare her worse!" one of them sounded almost frustrated.

"She's ours, she just doesn't know it yet," one answers way too calm for how quickly his voice is gaining. "That pull's only getting stronger."

I pump my legs harder my lungs burning. I've never run like this in my life but adrenaline is doing something weird pushing me faster than I should be able to manage through the dark woods. Branches whip my face and arms. I don't care. I just need distance.

A low laugh echoes somewhere to my left. "Look at her go. She's got no idea."

I cut right trying to loop back toward the thicker pines where I know the terrain better. My breath saws in and out. Behind me their footsteps are closing in like it's nothing to them. Superhuman speed. Of course they have it. Monsters always do.

Then suddenly everything goes quiet except for my own ragged breathing.

I skid to a stop in a small clearing my chest heaving and nock an arrow on the bow. The night feels too still.

A figure steps out from the shadows directly in front of me tall blond hair catching what little moonlight filters through the canopy. He wasn't behind me. He was ahead. Like he circled around faster than I could possibly run.

He raises his hands slowly palms out but his eyes are locked on me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. "Easy, rabbit. You're bleeding worse now. Stop running. We're not here to hurt you."

I draw the bowstring back until my fingers burn arrow pointed straight at his chest. My arm shakes. The cut is dripping warm blood again running down my wrist.

The other two emerge from the trees behind me boxing me in. One of them mutters low enough I almost miss it, "Bond's singing loud now that she's close."

I don't know what the fuck they're talking about. I just know I'm trapped, bleeding, and these three monsters are looking at me like I belong to them.

"Stay the hell back," I snarl my voice cracking. "I'll put this arrow through your heart before I let you touch me."

The blond one in front of me doesn't smile. He just stares something raw and hungry and almost... pained in his expression.

"We're not going anywhere," he says quietly. "Not without you."

I don't hesitate.

The bowstring sings. The arrow flies true at the blond one's chest.

His hand snaps up and catches it mid-air with a dull thwack stopping it dead inches from his heart like it was nothing. He doesn't even blink.

Before he can lower his hand I'm already reaching back for another arrow my fingers scrabbling.

A blur from my right one with brown hair takes the bow and it is ripped out of my grip with terrifying ease. The string burns across my fingers as it goes.

"Give that back, you fuck!" I snarl spinning toward him. My hand drops to my belt and yanks out the old hunting knife. The blade is nothing fancy but it's sharp enough. I lunge at the closest one the blond slashing wild and desperate.

He sidesteps just enough that the knife only catches his sleeve slicing fabric. I don't stop. I slash again then pivot and stab toward the brown haired one who took my bow when he tries to close in from the side. "I'm not going anywhere with you! Stay the hell away from me!"

"Easy," the black-haired one growls voice low. "She's bleeding bad. We need to get her out of here."

he wasn't talking to me though that much I was certain.

The brown-haired one circles smooth and patient. "You're coming with us, girl. This isn't up for debate. That house is falling down and you're in no shape to be out here alone anymore."

The blond one watches me with those intense eyes still holding my broken arrow. "You're ours now.

Whether you like it or not. Stop fighting before you hurt yourself worse."

"I'm not yours!" I scream lunging again the knife flashing. I catch the brown-haired one's arm this time shallow but enough to draw blood. He hisses but doesn't hit back. None of them do. They just keep closing in, dodging and grabbing, and treating me like a cornered animal they don't want to damage.

My head is spinning harder now. The cut on my forearm is a mess blood everywhere and the chase plus the fighting is draining what little strength I have left. Still, I swing pure stubborn fury again.

The black-haired, one finally moves in behind me. Strong arms lock around my waist and pin my knife hand to my side before I can slash again. I thrash kicking and cursing.

"Let me go! I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill all of you!"

"You're not killing anyone tonight," the brown-haired one says calmly stepping close enough to take the knife from my trapped hand. "And you're definitely not staying out here."

The blond one picks up my bow from where it was dropped. "Let's get her back. She can hate us in a warm bed instead of bleeding out in the dirt."

I keep fighting spitting every curse I know but my body is giving out. They've got me three monsters who move like nightmares and talk like they've already decided my future.

And I still have no idea why the hell they want me this badly.

They don't wait for me to calm down.

The brown haired one hauls me up off the ground his arms locked around my torso but I can feel him holding back too gentle, too scared of breaking his fragile human toy. That tiny hesitation is all the opening I need.

I go feral.

I slam my head backward into his face hearing cartilage crunch. He grunts but loosens just enough. I twist violently kicking both legs like a wild horse. My boot connects with the black haired ones ribs. He staggers. I wrench sideways with everything I have left and slip through the brown hairs arms.

The fall is short but brutal.

I hit the ground hard on my side my head cracking against a half-buried rock. White-hot pain explodes through my skull. At the same time my torn forearm slams into jagged roots and dirt. The cut rips wider with a sickening tear. Fresh blood surges out hot and pulsing.

For a second everything whites out.

I gasp my vision swimming but pure rage keeps me moving. I scramble for the dropped knife my fingers closing around it and slash blindly at the nearest shadow hazed.

"Shit—she's bleeding worse!" the blond one barks. "Don't grab her hard!"

They're still trying so hard not to hurt me. It only makes me more dangerous to myself.

I slash again catching the black haired one across the forearm. He hisses but pulls back instead of pinning me properly. I roll trying to crawl away and drive my wounded arm into the dirt. The pain is blinding. Dirt grinds into the deep gash. My head throbs in time with my heartbeat nauseating waves rolling through me.

"Stop—rabbit, stop!" the brown haired one snaps his voice tight with worry as he tries to catch my legs without bruising them.

I elbow him in the jaw then stab upward. The blade glances off the blond one's shoulder. They keep absorbing every hit cursing under their breath about not damaging me, not scaring their mate, and not hurting their human.

My own body is destroying me faster than they ever could.

Another desperate twist and my head hits the ground again. Black spots bloom across my vision. The world tilts hard. Blood pours steadily from the torn gash in my forearm deep now, ragged. I can feel it soaking through my sleeve dripping fast.

"I'm... not... going..." I slur still swinging weakly with the knife.

The brown haired one finally wraps both arms around me careful but firm. No more slack. so they finally realize that wasn't gonna break. I'm lifted off the ground limp and twitching my head lolling against his chest. Every step they take jolts fresh agony through my arm and skull.

"Head injury," the blond one mutters pressing clean cloth hard against my forearm while I weakly shove at him. "She's losing too much blood. Move faster."

I try to curse them try to kick but the words come out broken and faint. My eyelids flutter. The manor lights blur into hazy gold as they carry me through the iron gates and into the stone fortress.

The last thing I feel is them lowering me onto something soft while voices argue above me about stitches, bandages, and keeping me still.

Then the dark pulls me under completely.

I wake up to pain and terror.

My head throbs like someone's hammering nails into my skull. My forearm burns even worse. I try to jerk upright and can't thick leather straps pin my wrists, ankles, and chest to a heavy four-poster bed. I'm stripped down to my bra and pants the deep ragged gash on my forearm cleaned and laid open under a bright lamp.

Three of them hover over me.

The blond one is wiping blood from the wound with gauze. The brunette holds my arm steady. The black haired stands ready with a suture kit.

I explode against the restraints bucking hard. "Get the fuck off me! Let me go right now!"

The blond's eyes snap to mine. "You're awake. Good. Don't move."

"Fuck you!" I thrash wildly my wrists yanking until the leather cuts into my skin. My head screams with fresh pain. "Take these straps off or I'll kill every last one of you!"

The brunette grimaces. "You tore the cut open worse when you fell. It's deep down to muscle. You need stitches. Your scalp's split too. That's probably getting a couple as well."

I spit at the raven haired one when he leans in. "Don't you dare touch me with that needle!"

The blond sighs and reaches for a small vial and syringe. "We were trying to clean it fast while you were out, but since you're awake... hold on." He draws up clear liquid. "This is lidocaine. It'll numb the area so it doesn't hurt as bad. Just stop fighting for two seconds."

"I don't want your fucking drugs!" I snarl twisting violently as he swabs the skin around the gash. The chest strap digs in hard. My head spins worse with every jerk.

The brunette leans more weight on my arm to keep it still. "Rabbit, you already cracked your own skull and ripped this wound halfway to hell because we were trying not to hurt you. Take the lidocaine."

I feel the sting of the needle as he injects around the edges of the cut. I scream and curse them through every injection bucking so hard the whole bed shakes. The blond works quickly injecting in several spots while the other two hold me down.

"Give it a minute to kick in," the blond says his voice tight with frustration and something almost gentle. "Then we stitch."

I keep fighting the entire wait spitting venom threatening them and yanking against the straps until I'm sweating and dizzy. Slowly the burning pain in my arm starts to fade into a heavy distant throb.

The Blonde picks up the curved needle and thread. "Numb yet?"

"Fuck. You."

He starts stitching anyway. Even with the lidocaine, the tugging and pulling sensation is nauseating. I growl and thrash through every pass of the needle my head pounding and my vision flickering.

"You cracked your head pretty good on those rocks," the black haired tells me as he presses fresh gauze to the scalp laceration. "This one looks like might need stitches too once the arm is done. Concussion for sure."

"I hope you all burn," I rasp my voice hoarse from screaming. Tears of rage leak from the corners of my eyes. "I'm not staying here. I'm not yours. I'll tear this whole fucking place apart the second I'm loose."

The raven haired one wipes sweat from my forehead almost tenderly which only makes me want to bite him. "You're not going anywhere, little rabbit. Not tonight. Not with that arm and that head. You're staying right here where we can keep you alive."

They keep working methodically careful refusing to let me destroy myself any further while I fight the restraints with everything I have left still defiant, still furious, and still completely trapped.

They keep working on me even as I fight like a cornered animal.I curse them through every tug of the needle. I buck and twist against the leather straps until my wrists are raw and bleeding. I threaten to gut them, burn the manor down, and rip their hearts out with my teeth. The lidocaine has dulled the worst of the arm pain but the pulling sensation of the thread dragging through my flesh still makes my stomach roll. Every time the blond leans in to stitch the next pass I snap at him like a rabid dog.

The brunette holds my arm steady murmuring shit I don't want to hear. The blond works the needle with calm, precise hands. The black haired presses more fresh gauze to the bleeding cut on my scalp. I keep going. Screaming. Thrashing. Pouring every ounce of hate I have left into fighting the restraints.

But my body is failing.

The adrenaline that kept me going through the chase and the fight in the woods is crashing hard. My limbs start to feel heavier. My curses grow weaker and hoarser. The room keeps tilting even though I'm strapped down. Every violent jerk of my head sends fresh nausea rolling through me.

"Get... the fuck... off me..." I rasp yanking one last time at the wrist strap. It barely moves. My voice cracks.

The blond glances up at me his blue eyes steady. "You're exhausting yourself. Stop."

I try to spit at him again but there's nothing left. My head drops back against the pillow my chest heaving. Sweat sticks my hair to my forehead. The deep gash on my forearm is half-stitched now black thread pulling the ragged edges together surprisingly neat all things considered. Blood still seeps slowly around the edges.

I hate how weak I sound when I growl, "I'm not... staying here."

The black haired one wipes my face with a cool cloth again. I don't have the strength to bite him anymore. "You don't have a choice right now, rabbit. You lost too much blood. You cracked your skull fighting us. Just breathe."

I try one more weak thrash when the blond starts on the last few stitches. My leg twitches against the ankle strap but that's all I manage. My eyelids feel impossibly heavy. The pounding in my head has turned into a deep sickening drumbeat that matches my slowing heart.

The blond finishes the scalp laceration with two quick stitches after injecting more lidocaine. I barely feel it. Everything is distant now. Muffled.

"Done," he says quietly. "She's completely spent."

I want to tell them to go to hell. I want to swear I'll escape the second they unstrap me. But my tongue won't cooperate. My body has finally betrayed me after everything I put it through running, fighting, tearing myself open, and refusing to give an inch.

My eyes flutter shut against my will. The last thing I register is the sound of them talking softly above me the feel of clean bandages being wrapped tight around my arm and the heavy weight of exhaustion pulling me under like deep water.

I'm still furious.

But right now... I can't even lift my head.

When I wake up again the world feels softer. Too soft. Wrong.

My head still throbs with a deep bruised ache but the sharp edge is muffled now. My left forearm is heavily bandaged and tight with fresh stitches. I'm lying in a massive four-poster bed with dark silk sheets and a thick down comforter that smells like cedar and something expensive. The room is nothing like my rotting house or even the first stone chamber they stitched me in.

This place is elegant. High ceilings with heavy wooden beams. A crystal chandelier dimmed low. Rich tapestries on the stone walls. A fireplace crackling gently on the far side. Tall windows draped in deep green velvet. It looks like something from the old world that the monsters decided to keep for themselves.

My wrists are strapped to the headboard with padded leather cuffs not as brutal as before but still tight enough that I can't pull free. My legs are free this time. Small mercy.

I tense immediately.

The three of them are already here waiting like they knew I'd wake up soon. The blond one sits in a high backed chair pulled close to the side of the bed. The brunette leans against the dresser with his arms crossed, watching me. The raven haired one lounges on an ornate ottoman at the foot of the bed his legs stretched out casually.

All three straighten when they see my eyes open.

I yank hard on the wrist cuffs the leather creaking. "Take these fucking things off me."

The blond speaks first his voice low and steady. "Not yet. You've got a nasty concussion and you just had twenty-eight stitches between your arm and your scalp. You try to run or fight right now and you'll only hurt yourself again."

I glare at all three of them my jaw clenched. My heart is already hammering but I'm too exhausted to thrash like before. "Why the hell am I here? What do you want from me?"

The brunette pushes off the dresser and steps closer. "We smelled your blood. The second it hit the air, everything locked into place. You're our mate. All three of us. The bond snapped the moment you bled."

I stare at him like he's insane. "Your what?"

The raven heard leans forward elbows on his knees. "Fated mates. Rare these days, especially with a human. We've been feeling the pull for months without knowing who you were. Then last night... there you were. Bleeding in that falling-down shack."

"I'm not your mate," I snap yanking on the cuffs again. "I don't even know you. Your kind killed my family. I've spent years staying the fuck away from anything like you."

The blond sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He looks tired. "We're not going to pretend the world out there isn't brutal. A lot of us have done ugly things. But the bond doesn't care about any of that. It chose you. For us. And whether you feel it yet or not... we feel it. Strongly."

I laugh bitter and hoarse. "So you kidnap me, tie me to a bed in your fancy castle, stitch me up, and now you expect me to just... what? Fall in love? Play house?"

"No," the brunette says quietly. "Not right away. We know you're going to hate us for a while. But you're not going back to that death trap of a house. You're staying here. With us. Where you're safe, fed, and looked after."

The ravens haied dark eyes meet mine. "You can fight it. You can curse us, try to run, try to kill us again. We'll probably deserve some of it. But the bond is there now. It'll only get stronger the longer you're close to us. And we're not letting you go. Not ever."

I stare at the ceiling my chest tight and my wrists aching against the cuffs. Part of me wants to scream and fight again. Another part the tired, hurting, and lonely part is too exhausted to do anything but lie here.

"I still don't believe you," I mutter finally. "And I still want to leave."

The blond nods slowly like he expected that answer. "You can want whatever you want. But you're staying right here."

The fire crackles. They don't move. They just sit there patient, watchful, and completely certain that I belong to them.And I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do about any of it.

I lie there in the elegant bed my wrists cuffed to the headboard studying the three of them in the firelight.

"What are your names?" I ask my voice flat.

The blond one closest to me tilts his head. "Julian."

The big brunette by the fireplace uncrosses his arms. "Ronan."

The raven haired on the ottoman gives a graceful nod. "Edgar."

They wait watching me expectantly.

I stare back at them in silence.

"I'm not telling you," I say finally. "Don't worry about it."

Julian's mouth curves slightly. "We'd still like to know what to call you, little rabbit."

My eyes narrow. "Don't fucking call me that."

Ronan raises an eyebrow clearly fighting a smirk. "Then give us something better."

I let out an irritated breath too tired to keep playing this game. "It's Rosalind."

"Rosalind," Edgar repeats softly like he's savoring it. "Beautiful name."

"Fits," Ronan adds nodding.

I yank once on the cuffs. "I reject you."

All three of them go still.

Julian blinks. "...What?"

"I reject you," I say again louder. "All three of you. The bond, the mate thing whatever the hell it is. I reject it."

Ronan looks genuinely confused his brows furrowed. "What are you doing right now?"

Edgar sits up a little straighter on the ottoman. "Are you attempting to break the bond with words?"

My face burns. "I don't know. I read about it in a book one time."

Julian stares at me for a beat then lets out a short, surprised laugh. "A book?"

"Yeah," I mutter glancing away toward the heavy velvet curtains. "It was worth a try."

Ronan rubs a hand over his jaw looking half-amused half-concerned. "One of your old fantasy novels from that shack?"

"Doesn't matter," I snap. "Clearly didn't work. You're all still here staring at me like idiots."

Edgar leans back his lips curved in a faint smile. "The bond doesn't break with spoken rejection, Rosalind. Especially not one borrowed from human fiction. It's far deeper than that."

Julian watches me carefully his expression softening. "You can say the words as many times as you like. We're still not letting you go. You're hurt. You need to heal. And whether you believe it yet or not... you belong here with us now."

I close my eyes and let my head sink back into the pillow exhaustion weighing me down like lead.

"Fuck all three of you," I mumble no real heat left in it.

They don't leave. Julian stays in the chair beside the bed, Ronan keeps his post near the fire, and Edgar remains lounging at the foot of the bed patient, watchful, and completely certain.

And I hate that some small tired part of me is starting to get used to their presence already.