Accidentally Mated To Four Alphas-Chapter 240: _Will You Accept Heidi?

Heidi’s face keeps flashing in Darien’s mind as he drives. The way she looks when she’s worried, or frustrated, or trying not to break down. She tries to be strong alone. She tries to be quiet and invisible like she thinks she doesn’t have the right to occupy any space.

That alone is enough to keep him moving. It’s not the memory of how euphoric it felt when he was inside her, no. It’s the fact that she thinks she is alone. He’s keen on showing her how wrong she is. She’s not alone, she has four rangers ready to fight on her command.

When he finishes his last stop, it’s late. The sky is navy, broken by a few silver clouds. Pack houses glow with lights as families settle in for the night. But Darien feels electrified and hopeful. He’s got solid witnesses. Actual evidence. Testimonies. Clips. Names.

He invites each of Heidi’s friends to the Alpha estate for after school tomorrow, telling them she needs support—needs faces she trusts because he knows for a fact that there’s no way she’s stepping into that school without getting scarred unless she’s been proved innocent of all charges.

Her friends all agree instantly to come see her.

By the time Darien’s driving back to the estate, he’s exhausted but buzzing with victory. The kind of victory that feels too good to be true.

"See?" Kairos says smugly. "We’re untouchable. We’re unstoppable. We’re..."

"Don’t jinx it," Darien mutters.

Kairos grumbles. "Rude."

The gates of the Alpha estate open slowly, and Darien rolls through. The guards look uncomfortable—like they don’t know whether to salute him or avoid eye contact. Good. Let them squirm.

He parks, gets out, and heads inside.

Heidi is somewhere in the guest wing. Probably worried sick. Probably imagining the worst. He can’t wait to tell her that things went well—shockingly well. He’s itching to see her face and watch the relief soften her shoulders.

But before he reaches the stairway, something stops him. It’s a sound. Soft wet crying, that’s what it sounds like. He freezes in the hallway. Isolde’s door is cracked open. Light spills out from inside. And the crying... it isn’t quiet. It’s... raw, ugly, and painful.

Darien’s chest tightens.

Isolde isn’t a crier. At all. The girl barely even frowns in front of people. She’s built her entire personality around being untouchable, poised, and flawlessly controlled.

So hearing her sob? Yeah—something’s wrong. Very wrong. Darien hesitates for half a second, then steps closer. He peers through the gap in the door. His breathing pauses.

Isolde is on the floor beside her bed, legs folded beneath her. Her shoulders shake violently. Her face is buried in Daphne’s shoulder. Daphne is crying too—but quieter, like she’s desperately trying to be the stable one even though she’s falling apart.

They’re clinging to each other like the ground is collapsing and they only have each other to hold onto. Darien’s stomach drops. He’s never seen them like this. Not even when the twins nearly died at six. Not even when their grandmother passed. Not even during the worst pack crisis last year.

This is different. Something broke them.

Daphne sniffles hard, fingers curled in the back of Isolde’s shirt. "I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve never done it. I didn’t know."

Isolde shakes her head. "No. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have kept quiet about it. I shouldn’t have made him... hate me."

Her voice cracks. Darien feels something inside him twist painfully. Who was the ’he’ in their conversation? Was it... their father? Seeing his sisters this way, the two girls he could bring down a mountain for, crying and apologizing to each other does nothing but show him how absent he’s been when it comes to them lately.

He did notice Isolde’s quietness for a while. He quietly pushes the door open farther but the hinge squeaks. Loud. Both girls jerk and whip around in perfect synchronized horror, eyes wide and red and swollen.

Isolde scrambles to wipe her face, trying so hard to look composed that Darien feels sick watching it. She fails as her hands tremble.

Daphne sniffles, dragging a sleeve across her cheeks. "Darien...hey."

Isolde’s voice is feeble. "What... what are you doing here?"

Darien closes the door behind him gently. He steps inside slowly like he’s approaching scared animals that might bolt. He kneels beside them, lowering his height so he’s not towering over their already fragile state.

"What happened?" His voice comes out softer than he expects.

Isolde’s throat works, and for a moment she can’t speak. Her lips part, but no words come out except a broken squeak.

Daphne squeezes her hand. "It’s okay. You can tell him."

Isolde draws in a shaky breath, rubbing the heels of her palms against her eyes like she’s trying to scrub the tears out of her skin. Her chest keeps heaving anyway, stubborn, disobedient. She looks like a porcelain doll left out in a storm—glossy, cracked, barely holding her shape.

"I need... I need to tell you something."

Her voice is thin, but transparent, like she’s speaking from a place still bleeding. Darien keeps his posture low, knees aching from crouching, but he doesn’t move. Kairos inside him is prowling, ears forward, hackles up, ready to destroy whoever made her cry. His wolf sends an impatient growl through his chest.

Calm down, Darien tells him silently. Let her speak.

Isolde swallows hard. Her chin trembles. "Darien... Nash is my mate."

WHAT?!

The world... stalls and the air stops. The lights seem too bright. Daphne freezes, hands curling into fists on her lap. And Darien just... blinks. It is such a violently unexpected revelation that his brain genuinely crashes for a second.

Then...

"What?"

It rips out of him like someone dropped a stone on his throat. Isolde winces, guilt instantly flooding her features. "I know. I know it sounds—just—just let me explain..."

"Nash?" Darien repeats, louder. "NASH? As in the N of the NAY boys?"

Daphne flinches. "Please don’t yell."

But Darien can’t stop the incredulous laugh that bursts out of him. It’s sharp, borderline hysterical, the kind of sound someone makes after being slapped by the universe twice in one day.

"No. No way. I refuse. You’re lying. Is this some stress hallucination? Did you hit your head? Did he hit your head?"

Isolde’s eyes flare with indignation. "Of course I’m not lying! I found out at the Awakening ceremony..."

"THE AWAKENING CEREMONY?" Darien throws his hands up. "I was literally there! I didn’t see anything!"

"You weren’t paying attention!" Isolde snaps, cheeks flushing hard. "You were too busy being gloomy and plotting war in your head like you always do!"

He wants to argue. He does. But damn it—she’s... not wrong.

Darien scrubs a hand down his face. "I just... Nash? Seriously? Isolde, he hosted an entire pack-wide roast last year dedicated to dragging us."

Daphne chokes on a wet giggle at the reminder.

"Not helping," Isolde mutters.

And then the reality hits Darien again, heavier this time, sinking deeper. Nash. The Beta’s son who is an absolute menace. Sometimes an idiot. Occasionally funny but still an idiot.

Runs the NAY boys like they’re the Kings of Pack Academy.

Also... he is Isolde’s mate.

Darien is not prepared for this. At all.

Kairos, on the other hand, sounds almost amused. "This’ll be fun."

Not now, Darien snaps internally.

He inhales slowly, grounding himself. "Okay," he says. "Okay. Look. I’m shocked, but... you’re my sister. And if the goddess picked Nash for you, then... then I’m not going to argue with fate."

Isolde’s face crumples again, but this time, it’s in relief.

Daphne wipes her nose, sniffling. "You mean it?"

"Yeah," Darien says, softer now. "Nash may be an annoying gremlin, but he’s not a bad person. And being the Beta’s son means he’s... stable. Trained. Good leadership bloodline. It could be worse."

Isolde lets out a watery laugh. "Not sure if that was a compliment or an insult."

"Both," Darien says.

Daphne gives him a hopeful look. "So... you’ll try to get along with him? For Isolde’s sake?"

Darien nods, then pauses when something hits him. His eyes shift from Daphne... back to Isolde... then back to Daphne.

He tilts his head very slowly and meaningfully.

"Does that mean," he asks carefully, "you’re also going to accept Heidi?"

Every molecule in Daphne’s body goes rigid.

Her brows snap together instantly. "That’s—no. That’s totally different."

"Oh?" Darien says, cocking an eyebrow. "How?"

Daphne gestures wildly, tears forgotten, righteous irritation blazing across her features. "Nash is of noble blood! He’s from a respected family! Heidi is—she’s... she’s just a nobody!"

Isolde winces. "Daphne..."

"No," Daphne counters, doubling down. "I’m not going to pretend those two are even comparable. Nash is reasonable. Well-mannered. Strong. Heidi is—she’s weird! And clumsy! And she literally tries to kill you if you breathe in her direction. Look what she did to SIERRA! She’s CURSED!"

Darien stares at her blankly. "Are you describing Heidi or a startled rabbit?"

"Both!" Daphne snaps.

He lets out a breath, fighting the urge to smack his head into the nearest wall. "Daph, listen. A wolf’s worth isn’t determined by family lines. We’re not in some archaic monarchy. The goddess doesn’t pick based on last names—she picks based on soul compatibility."

Daphne folds her arms, chin lifting stubbornly. The classic "I am right and I will die on this hill" posture.