THREE MATES ONE HEART

The thin morning light crept through the frayed curtains of the small, dingy room Claire Harper shared with her sister. The wallpaper, peeling in long strips, hung limp from moisture that the foster home's owners never bothered to address. The twin bed under Claire creaked as she sat up, running a hand through her unruly red hair. Her emerald-green eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked to the other bed where Ivy, her 14-year-old sister, still slept.

Ivy's chestnut hair fanned out across her pillow, her petite frame curled into the oversized blanket Claire had scrounged from a thrift store last winter. Even in her sleep, Ivy's delicate features held a hint of sadness, an echo of the tragedy they'd endured. For Claire, Ivy's innocence was something to guard at all costs, even in a world that seemed bent on stripping it away.

Claire slid out of bed, her movements quiet. The floorboards groaned beneath her feet as she padded toward the corner of the room where a hot plate and a chipped mug served as their makeshift kitchen. Breakfast wasn't much-a couple of slices of stale bread toasted on the plate and a small carton of milk she'd managed to save from the dinner table last night.

"Claire?" Ivy's soft voice startled her.

Turning, Claire found her sister sitting up, rubbing sleep from her hazel eyes.

"Morning, bug," Claire said, forcing a smile. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep for a bit."

Ivy shook her head. "I don't mind. What's for breakfast?"

"Toast and milk," Claire replied, handing her the first piece. "We'll call it gourmet."

Ivy giggled, the sound like a faint ray of sunshine cutting through the gloom. Claire lived for moments like this-proof that Ivy still had a spark of hope in her, even if Claire herself felt like she'd been running on fumes since their parents' death four years ago.

"Do you think we'll ever leave this place?" Ivy asked, her voice tentative.

Claire hesitated, the weight of Ivy's question sinking deep. "Yeah," she said finally. "We will. I promise."

The sound of raised voices in the hallway interrupted their moment. Claire stiffened, her ears pricking as she caught snippets of the foster parents' argument.

"They're coming today," the man's gravelly voice said.

"Yeah, and good riddance," the woman snapped. "Less mouths to feed."

Claire's stomach turned. "They're probably just arguing about money again," she said to Ivy, but her mind churned with unease.

As the morning wore on, Claire couldn't shake the ominous feeling. By the time the faint rumble of a car engine echoed up the drive, she was pacing their room, peering through the gap in the curtains.

The sleek black SUV that pulled up looked out of place against the backdrop of the crumbling foster home. From it stepped a man and a woman who radiated an air of wealth and composure.

The man, tall and broad-shouldered, had silver streaks running through his dark hair. His sharp gray eyes scanned the house with a mix of curiosity and judgment. Beside him, the woman moved with an effortless grace. Her blonde hair was pinned neatly back, her hazel eyes soft but perceptive.

Claire's breath caught. Who were they? And why did it feel like they were here for something more than just a visit?

She turned to Ivy. "Stay here," she said, her voice firm.

"But-"

"Please, Ivy. I just want to see what's going on."

Ivy nodded reluctantly, and Claire stepped into the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest.

At the top of the stairs, she paused, watching as the couple was ushered into the house by the foster parents. Their voices were low, too faint to make out, but Claire caught the way the woman's eyes darted up toward the staircase, almost as if she knew Claire was there.

The man spoke, his voice calm but commanding. "We've come to see the girls."

Girls? Claire's pulse quickened. She pressed her back against the wall, her mind racing. This wasn't some routine visit. Whoever these people were, they had come for her and Ivy. But why?

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into fists. Whatever was happening, she wouldn't let anyone take Ivy away from her.

Her resolve solidified as she heard the foster mother's shrill response. "They're upstairs. I'll fetch them."

Claire didn't move as the footsteps approached. Her world narrowed to the sound of the woman climbing the stairs and the growing sense that her life was about to change forever.

The living room of the foster home was a dim, cramped space that reeked faintly of mildew and despair. Its mismatched furniture-worn armchairs, a sagging couch, and a coffee table scarred with water rings-spoke of years of neglect. Claire stood near the doorway, her back straight and her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she sized up the strangers seated across from the foster parents.

The man and woman looked entirely out of place in the shabby room. Marcus Knight exuded authority without trying. His tailored black jacket fit his tall, broad frame perfectly, and the silver streaks in his dark hair added an air of distinguished maturity. His gray eyes, sharp and assessing, moved over the room as if cataloging every imperfection. Beside him, Lila Knight's elegance softened the scene. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and her hazel eyes glimmered with warmth. She sat with her legs crossed, her ivory blouse and tailored pants pristine, as though the grime of the foster home couldn't touch her.

Claire didn't trust them.

"You must be Claire," Lila said, her voice smooth and inviting. "And Ivy, I presume?" Her gaze flicked past Claire to where Ivy lingered in the doorway, hesitant but curious.

Claire shifted slightly, placing herself more firmly between Ivy and the strangers. "That's us," she said flatly.

Marcus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We're here because of your father, Daniel Harper," he began, his voice deep and steady.

At the mention of their father, Claire's stomach tightened. She could feel Ivy's gaze on her back, wide-eyed and expectant, but she kept her own expression carefully neutral. "What about him?"

"We knew him very well," Marcus said. "Daniel was like family to us once."

Claire arched an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "Funny. He never mentioned you."

"Claire," the foster mother interjected sharply, shooting her a warning glare.

"No, it's all right," Lila said, her tone gentle. "I understand this must be overwhelming." She turned her gaze to Ivy and smiled softly. "Your father was a remarkable man. Brave, loyal, and deeply devoted to his family. When we heard what happened..." Her voice faltered briefly, and she placed a hand on Marcus's arm.

Marcus picked up seamlessly. "We wanted to reach out sooner, but circumstances made it difficult. When we learned you and Ivy were here, we knew we had to come."

Claire's jaw tightened. Their words were polished, practiced even, and she didn't like how easily they slipped into her father's legacy as if they had any right to it. She glanced at Ivy, who had stepped closer, her face lit with a fragile hope that twisted something in Claire's chest.

"What do you want?" Claire asked bluntly.

Marcus straightened, his gray eyes locking onto hers. "We want to take you and your sister into our home. To give you the life your father would have wanted for you."

A laugh escaped Claire before she could stop it, sharp and incredulous. "You don't even know us."

"We know enough," Marcus said firmly. "And we know what it's like to lose a family. No one should have to grow up without love or stability."

"Stability," Claire repeated, her voice laced with doubt. She gestured vaguely around the room. "And you think that's what we're missing? Stability?"

"Claire," Ivy whispered, tugging at her sleeve. "Maybe-"

Claire cut her off with a glance, then turned back to the Knights. "Why now? Why not four years ago when our parents died?"

"It's complicated," Lila said softly, her hazel eyes brimming with something that might have been regret. "There were... obstacles. But we're here now, and we're ready to help."

Claire wanted to dismiss them outright, to send them away with their polished clothes and empty promises. But the way Ivy's shoulders had relaxed, the way her hazel eyes clung to Lila's, made her hesitate.

Marcus leaned back slightly, giving Claire a measured look. "You don't have to decide right now," he said. "Take some time to think about it. Talk it over with your sister. We'll stay in town for a few days."

The offer was reasonable, even considerate, and Claire hated that it was harder to argue against. She crossed her arms tighter, her nails digging into her palms. "We'll think about it," she said finally, the words begrudgingly.

Lila smiled gently. "That's all we ask."

As the Knights stood to leave, Marcus extended a card to Claire. She hesitated before taking it, her fingers brushing the embossed letters of their names and a phone number.

"We'll be in touch," Marcus said, his gray eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than felt comfortable.

When the door closed behind them, the room felt heavier, as if their presence had left a tangible weight. Ivy turned to Claire, her face alight with cautious optimism.

"They seemed nice," Ivy said tentatively.

Claire didn't answer. She stared at the card in her hand, her mind spinning with questions and suspicions she couldn't shake. Whatever the Knights' motives, one thing was clear-they had just changed everything.

Claire sat cross-legged on the thin mattress, her back pressed against the peeling wallpaper of their tiny room. It was barely a step up from a closet, with enough space for two narrow beds and a battered nightstand crammed between them. The dim light from the single bulb overhead did nothing to brighten the dreary space. Faded photos of their parents sat on the nightstand, their edges curled and worn from years of handling.

Ivy perched on her bed across from Claire, her knees pulled to her chest. Her hazel eyes were wide and pleading. "I don't understand why you're so against this," she said, her voice soft but insistent.

Claire ran a hand through her unruly red hair, a nervous habit she couldn't quite shake. "It's not that simple, Ivy. People don't just show up out of nowhere, offering to fix everything. Life doesn't work like that."

Ivy frowned, her chestnut hair falling into her face. "Maybe they're just good people. Dad always said there were good people out there if you looked hard enough."

"That was before," Claire snapped, then immediately regretted it when she saw Ivy flinch. She softened her tone. "Look, I want to believe that too, but we don't know these people. They could be lying. They could be dangerous."

"They knew Dad," Ivy said quietly, her fingers twisting the hem of her sweatshirt. "They said he was like family."

"That's what they say," Claire countered. "But did you notice how vague they were? They didn't say how they knew him or why they waited this long to find us."

Ivy looked down at the floor. "Maybe they were scared," she murmured. "Or maybe they didn't know where we were."

Claire sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. She wanted to dismiss the Knights completely, to pretend they'd never shown up and thrown their already precarious lives into chaos. But Ivy's quiet hope was like a knife to her heart. Her sister had been through so much-too much for someone so young-and Claire hated the thought of taking away even a sliver of her happiness.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Claire said softly. "What if we go with them, and it's worse than this? What if they're not who they say they are?"

Ivy's head shot up, her hazel eyes shining with unshed tears. "And what if it's better?" she countered. "What if it's everything we've ever wanted, Claire? Don't you think we deserve a chance to be happy?"

Claire's chest tightened. The truth was, she wasn't sure she knew what happiness felt like anymore. Not since the night their world fell apart.

Her gaze drifted to the photos on the nightstand, her fingers brushing the edge of the frame. One picture showed their parents laughing on a picnic blanket, the sun glinting off their matching auburn hair. Another was of the four of them at the beach, Ivy perched on their father's shoulders while Claire clung to their mother's hand.

She closed her eyes, and the memories came rushing back. Their father's deep, reassuring voice as he read bedtime stories. The way their mother's laughter could light up a room. The warmth of their embrace on cold nights.

And then the night it all ended. The night of the attack.

The sound of shattering glass still echoed in her nightmares. The growls. The screams. The blood.

Claire shook her head, forcing the memories back into the box where she kept them locked away. "It's my job to protect you," she said, her voice rough with emotion. "That's what Mom and Dad would want."

Ivy reached across the small space between them, her hand resting lightly on Claire's knee. "Maybe protecting me means giving me a chance to be happy," she said, her voice trembling. "Maybe it means taking a leap of faith, even if it's scary."

Claire looked at her sister, so small and fragile but with a core of unshakable belief that sometimes made Claire feel like she was the younger one. Ivy's face was pale, her chestnut hair framing her delicate features, but there was a determination in her hazel eyes that made Claire pause.

She exhaled slowly, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. "Fine," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "We'll go. But only because you want to. And if anything feels off-anything-we're leaving. No questions asked."

Ivy's face lit up with relief, and for a moment, Claire thought she saw a glimmer of the little girl Ivy used to be before the world made them grow up too fast. "Thank you," Ivy whispered, her voice breaking.

Claire nodded, though her stomach churned with unease. She didn't trust the Knights, not yet. But if this was what Ivy needed to believe in something better, then Claire would find a way to make it work.

The sisters sat in silence for a while, the only sound the faint creak of the building settling. The decision had been made, but Claire couldn't shake the feeling that their lives were about to change in ways she couldn't predict-and wasn't sure she was ready for.

The morning was heavy with gray clouds that promised rain, the air thick with the scent of damp asphalt. Claire stood at the edge of the foster home's cracked driveway, her duffel bag slung over one shoulder. She glanced back at the sagging porch, its paint peeling like old wallpaper, and then at the huddle of children clustered near the doorway.

One of the younger kids, a boy no older than seven with a mop of curly hair, tugged at her sleeve. "You're really leaving, Claire?" he asked, his wide eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and sadness.

Claire crouched down, her fiery red hair falling around her face like a curtain. She ruffled the boy's hair gently. "Yeah, Ben. But you'll be okay. Keep an eye on everyone for me, all right?"

Ben nodded solemnly, his small chest puffing out as if she'd just entrusted him with a knightly quest.

Ivy stood nearby, saying her goodbyes with a tenderness that made Claire's chest tighten. Her sister's soft voice carried over the low hum of the Knights' SUV idling in the driveway. Ivy hugged one of the older girls, both of them clutching each other like lifelines.

Claire straightened and caught Ivy's eye. "It's time," she said softly.

Ivy nodded, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "I'll miss you guys," she said, her voice trembling but brave.

The foster parents barely glanced up from their conversation on the porch, their disinterest as palpable as the drizzle beginning to fall. The woman waved a dismissive hand. "Good luck, or whatever," she muttered before turning back to her cigarette.

Claire clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. She resisted the urge to say something cutting, knowing it wouldn't change anything. Instead, she turned toward the sleek black SUV parked at the curb.

Marcus and Lila stood beside it, their polished presence a stark contrast to the neighborhood's rundown state. Marcus was leaning casually against the car, his broad shoulders and tailored coat making him look as though he'd stepped out of a magazine. Lila stood near the open door, her warm hazel eyes fixed on the sisters with a mixture of patience and urgency.

"Ready, girls?" Lila asked, her tone gentle but firm.

Ivy practically skipped toward the car, her excitement lighting up her face. Claire, however, hesitated. She glanced back one last time at the group of kids huddled on the porch, their expressions a mix of envy and sadness. She felt the weight of her decision settle heavily on her chest.

"Come on, Claire," Ivy called from the backseat, her chestnut hair bouncing as she waved. "It's not forever."

Claire's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. "Right," she muttered under her breath. With a final nod to the kids, she hoisted her bag higher and climbed into the car.

The interior smelled faintly of leather and something floral. Lila slid into the passenger seat, turning back to smile at them. "Buckle up," she said, her voice soft yet commanding.

Claire settled into the seat, the smooth leather cool against her skin. She couldn't help but notice how out of place she and Ivy looked in the luxurious vehicle, their worn clothes and scuffed shoes a glaring contrast.

As Marcus pulled the car away from the curb, Claire watched the foster home shrink in the rearview mirror. Relief warred with trepidation in her chest. She didn't trust the Knights-not yet-but she couldn't deny the sense of freedom that came with leaving that place behind.

"You girls are going to love Shadow Haven," Lila said, her smile warm. "It's peaceful and safe, a fresh start."

Ivy's hazel eyes sparkled. "What's it like? Do you have a big house? Are there animals?"

Lila chuckled, her voice like a soothing melody. "It's big enough, and yes, there are animals. You'll see soon enough."

Claire stared out the window, her green eyes scanning the passing scenery. The city streets gave way to suburban neighborhoods and then to open countryside. The further they drove, the more the landscape shifted, the trees growing denser and the roads narrower.

The first tendrils of mist appeared as they entered the forest, curling around the car like ghostly fingers. The light grew dimmer, the trees casting long shadows despite the overcast sky.

Claire's unease deepened. "Where exactly is this place?" she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

Marcus glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his piercing gray eyes calm but unreadable. "Not far now. Shadow Haven is a bit secluded, but I think you'll find it worth the journey."

Ivy pressed her face to the window, her breath fogging the glass. "It's like something out of a storybook," she whispered, awe coloring her voice.

Claire, on the other hand, felt a prickle of anxiety crawl up her spine. The mist thickened as they drove deeper, the forest growing darker with each passing mile.

She glanced at Ivy, who was practically glowing with excitement, and then at the Knights, who seemed perfectly at ease. Something about this journey felt like stepping into another world-one where the rules might not be the same.

The SUV rounded a bend, the mist swallowing the road ahead, and Claire's grip on the armrest tightened. For better or worse, there was no turning back now.

The drive through the mist-laden forest seemed endless, the dense canopy overhead blotting out what little light the overcast sky provided. When the road finally opened, the sight that greeted them stole Ivy's breath and tightened the knot of unease in Claire's chest.

Shadow Haven loomed before them-a sprawling estate that seemed more castle than house.

"Wow," Ivy breathed again, her small hand reaching out to touch the edge of a gilded table. "This is like a palace."

Claire hung back, her bag still slung over her shoulder, her senses on high alert. The opulence was overwhelming, but it was the details that set her nerves on edge-the peculiar symbols carved into the wood of the staircase, the faint scent of something metallic in the air, the way Marcus and Lila exchanged a glance that was too quick, too practiced.

"Let me show you to your rooms," Lila said brightly, breaking the silence. "You must be exhausted from the trip."

As they climbed the sweeping staircase, Ivy chatted animatedly with Lila, her excitement palpable. Claire followed in silence, her eyes scanning every corner, every shadow.

Their rooms were side by side, each as lavish as a five-star hotel suite. Ivy's was decorated in soft pastels with a canopy bed that made her gasp in delight. Claire's was darker, the deep burgundy and mahogany tones feeling more oppressive than inviting.

"This is incredible," Ivy said, spinning in the center of her room. "It doesn't even feel real."

Claire didn't reply. She set her bag down and moved to the large window that dominated one wall. The view was of the forest, the mist clinging to the trees like a living thing. She could just make out the faint glimmer of a lake in the distance, its surface rippling as if something had disturbed it.

A soft knock on the doorframe made her turn. Marcus stood there, his imposing figure filling the space. "Dinner will be ready shortly," he said, his deep voice as calm as ever. "Take your time to settle in."

Claire nodded, watching as he retreated down the hall. She turned back to the window, her arms crossed over her chest. Ivy's laughter drifted from the next room, a sound that was both comforting and a reminder of why she had agreed to this in the first place.

Just as she began to relax, a distant howl cut through the quiet. It was low and mournful, echoing through the forest like a warning.

Claire stiffened, her pulse quickening. She scanned the trees, but the mist was too thick to see anything clearly. The sound came again, closer this time, sending a shiver down her spine.

"What was that?" Ivy's voice called from the adjoining room, tinged with curiosity but not fear.

Claire forced herself to sound calm. "Probably just an animal," she said, though she didn't believe it for a second.

She stayed at the window long after the sound faded, her unease growing with each passing minute. Something about this place felt off, and she couldn't shake the feeling that they had just stepped into something far bigger-and far more dangerous-than they could have imagined.