The Triplet Alphas' Forbidden Temptation

”I have not cooked in years,” Killian said politely, turning down Eloise. ”I am not sure I remember the recipe anymore.”

Yuki’s stomach dropped.

She did not know why the words affected her so much. It was only congee. A simple bowl of rice and chicken. Yet her jaw clenched tightly as she stared down at her plate.

Why was he lying?

He had remembered the recipe for her.

He had stood in the kitchen and cooked for her when she was hungry. She could still remember the warmth of the kitchen that night, the soft clatter of utensils as he moved around the counter, the way he had carefully seasoned the broth before tasting it to make sure it was right. He had even poured her a glass of juice without her asking.

And now, when Eloise asked him to cook it again, he suddenly could not remember how?

The thought was ridiculous.

Yuki slowly placed her fork down, her fingers lingering around it for a moment before she released it. She could feel herself becoming irrational over something that should not have mattered.

She was not going to sit here and overthink a bowl of congee.

It meant nothing.

It had never meant anything.

Yuki abruptly pushed her chair back.

The sharp scrape of wood against the floor made every conversation around the table die instantly. Several heads turned in her direction, but Yuki did not look at any of them. She rose to her feet and walked towards the dining room doors, her expression carefully blank.

”Yuki?” Kaden called after her, his voice laced with confusion.

She pretended not to hear him.

Her steps quickened as she crossed the room, and the moment she passed through the doors, she let out a shaky breath. She continued down the hallway until the sound of voices behind her faded into the distance.

Only then did she stop.

Yuki leaned her back against the cool wall, pressing one hand against her chest. Her heart was beating far too quickly, and she closed her eyes as she tried to calm herself.

”Do not overthink it, Yuki,” she whispered under her breath. ”None of it matters. What they do has nothing to do with me.”

Her fingers curled against her dress.

Soon, they would not even be fated to each other anymore. That thought should have comforted her. Instead, something inside her chest twisted painfully.

Yuki swallowed and forced herself to straighten.

She had a lecture to attend. That was what mattered, not Killian or Eloise and certainly not a bowl of congee.

---

By noon, Yuki was seated in the second row of the lecture hall, trying desperately to take notes while the lecturer explained the anatomical differences between werewolves and witches.

The lecture hall was unusually quiet.

The only sound disturbing the silence was the lecturer’s steady voice carrying across the enormous room, occasionally accompanied by the scratching of hundreds of pens against paper. The faint hum of the air-conditioning filled the spaces between her words, keeping the room cool despite the number of students packed inside.

This was a four-unit course, and everyone knew the consequences of failing it. One bad grade could do serious damage to their CGPA.

Nobody wanted to be the student who had to explain to their parents that they had failed Anatomy of Supernatural Species because they had not taken a lecture seriously.

At the front of the room stood a woman in her early forties. Her dark hair was twisted into a neat bun, and a pair of thin glasses rested low on the bridge of her nose. She was dressed in a silk shirt and dark trousers, and beside her stood two large medical teaching sculptures.

One represented a werewolf, its muscular body displayed in layers to reveal the intricate structure beneath the skin. The other was a witch, similarly designed to expose the internal organs and skeletal structure. Both sculptures stood on raised platforms beneath the bright white lights, their artificial muscles and organs looking strangely realistic.

The lecturer walked slowly between them, a pointer resting between her fingers. ”One of the major anatomical differences,” she said, raising her voice slightly as she pointed towards the witch model, ”is the placement of the heart.”

Several students immediately looked up from their notes. Yuki’s pen paused.

”As you can see here,” the lecturer continued, tapping the left side of the witch sculpture before moving her pointer towards the centre of its chest, ”a witch’s heart is not positioned on the left side of the chest, as is the case with humans and werewolves. Instead, it is located slightly towards the right.”

A few students murmured among themselves. The lecturer immediately narrowed her eyes. ”If you are discussing the placement of your own heart instead of listening to me, I will be happy to assign you an additional research paper.”

The murmuring stopped. Yuki smiled faintly before returning her attention to her notebook.

”This anatomical difference is believed to have developed during the medieval era, when witches were heavily hunted by humans,” the lecturer explained. ”Historical records suggest that witches began deliberately feigning death after being stabbed in the left side of the chest. Hunters eventually began assuming that a witch had died once they saw blood coming from that area. Over generations, this is believed to have contributed to the evolutionary shift in heart placement.”

The lecturer continued explaining the subject, but Yuki’s attention slowly began to drift. Her pen continued moving across the paper.

She heard the lecturer’s voice, but the words gradually became nothing more than background noise.

Her mind returned to the dining room. Killian’s voice, his expression, the way he had calmly claimed he could no longer remember a recipe he had once cooked for her without hesitation.

Yuki’s brows drew together.

Why was it bothering her so much?

It was absurd.

She had more important things to worry about.

She needed to study. She needed to focus on her classes. She needed to figure out how she was going to survive the mess surrounding the Ravencourt family.

Yet her mind kept circling back to the same thing, and then there was Kieran. Yuki’s fingers tightened around her pen. She could see his dark eyes in her mind with frustrating clarity.

Her gaze dropped to her notebook. Her brows pulled together. Something about the page looked strange.

She blinked. The lecturer’s voice suddenly sounded distant.

Yuki stared at the paper, and her stomach dropped. She had not been taking notes.

She had been drawing, and not just anything. Her pen had somehow created a remarkably detailed portrait of Kieran. His sharp jaw, his dark hair, those intense eyes that seemed to stare directly through the page, not to mention the dark circles she couldn’t forget.

Yuki’s face began to burn. She quickly moved her hand over the drawing, but it was too late.

”Miss Yuki Donovan.” The firm voice came from dangerously close. Yuki’s head snapped upwards. The lecturer was standing directly beside her desk.

Her calm eyes stared down at Yuki. Yuki’s heart nearly stopped. ”Ma’am,” she blurted out.

The lecturer did not respond immediately. Instead, her gaze slowly dropped to Yuki’s notebook.

Then she looked back at Yuki, one eyebrow raised. Yuki’s fingers tightened around the edge of the book.

The lecturer leaned slightly closer.

”Are you sure you are meant to be in the medical department?” she asked dryly.

Yuki’s face fell. The lecturer pointed at the notebook. ”You seem quite talented in the creative arts department.”

A few students nearby snickered. Yuki swallowed, then looked down. Her entire body went rigid. She had forgotten to cover the drawing.

The lecturer reached down and took the notebook from her desk. ”Ma’am,” Yuki said quickly, her voice dropping into a nervous whisper. ”I can explain.”

The lecturer flipped open the notebook. Yuki’s soul practically left her body. ”Actually,” she muttered, ”I am beginning to think I would like to hear this explanation.”

Yuki’s eyes widened. The lecturer turned the page, then another. Yuki’s face became hotter.

The old notebook had been with her since her days at Xyrus University. Back then, she had developed a habit of sketching whenever she was bored or stressed.

Unfortunately, a significant portion of those sketches had been of Kieran, and they were not exactly innocent portraits.

There were sketches of him standing, sitting, leaning against walls. Some were completely imaginary, while others showed him wearing clothes that were far too teasing to be considered appropriate for public viewing.

And there were several that featured considerably less clothing than Yuki was willing to admit existed. She watched in horror as the lecturer’s expression changed from confusion to surprise, then absolute disbelief.

The woman’s face slowly turned crimson.

Yuki wanted the floor to open beneath her.