Claimed by my Brother’s Best Friends

Warning: abuse, violence, dark romance, daddy kink. There will be mm, mf, and mfmm sex.

Zoe’s POV

They said we were too wild to tame. Turns out, they were right.

The Shadow Gang wasn’t just a rumor—it was a living, breathing storm. We didn’t break the rules. We reinvented them, shattered them, turned them into confetti. And today, we were going out with a literal bang.

“Zoe, Damon, Kael, Lyra, Draven, Seris—my office. NOW!”

The voice of Headmaster Dorne cut through the chaos like a dagger through fog. We exchanged glances, mischief bubbling just beneath the surface as we stepped into what was left of his scorched office. Smoke coiled from the corners, mingling with the scent of burnt wood and… victory.

“Headmaster,” I offered sweetly, “you summoned us?”

His glare could have melted the silver lining off a blessed sword.

“Sodium pellets in my school’s sinks? Do you think this is a circus, Ms. Stone?”

The smirk that tugged at the corners of my lips betrayed me. He already knew the answer. If it looked like a circus and smelled like smoke… it probably was us.

We were six forces of mayhem—children of warriors, royalty of rebellion, born from the elite hierarchy of the Diamond Heart Pack. My father? The Alpha. My mother? The legendary prankster of her time. And I, Zoe Stone, was their proud successor with the most innocent face and the most dangerous mind.

Damon, Kael, Lyra, Draven, Seris—my best friends, my packmates, my chaos conspirators. Damon and Lyra were twins, children of my dad’s Beta, while Kael and Draven were the sons of the third and fourth in command. Seris, the Beta’s adopted daughter, had a brain sharper than any blade. Together, we were the Shadow Gang—trained from the age of four to be warriors of the unseen, bound by rules to protect innocents… but that didn’t mean we couldn’t prank the living hell out of our school.

And this prank? Let’s just say it will be talked about in Diamond Ville for years to come.

The fire trucks screeched into the courtyard just as our parents arrived in a storm of vehicles. Mothers in full battle-mode. Fathers are practically vibrating with fury. But beneath the rage, we caught the glimmers of reluctant pride. We’d pulled off something… unforgettable.

“You’re being transferred,” my father said flatly, stepping over scorched floorboards as if he owned the wreckage. “Asheville Academy. Tomorrow.”

Our grins froze. Wait, what?

That wasn’t just a school. Asheville was a fortress—an elite boarding institution buried deep in No-Man’s Land, neutral territory for supernatural factions. Werewolves, vampires, witches… and zero freedom. They had rules for everything from fang maintenance to curfew breath checks.

I opened my mouth to protest, but my father raised a hand, his Alpha tone sealing the fate none of us had voted for. “You leave at six a.m. Your classes begin at eleven. You’ll have one hour to settle into your dorms. Don’t be late.”

My mother tried to intervene, pulling me into a fierce hug. “Zoe! Thank the Moon Goddess you’re safe. I was worried sick!” Her warmth wrapped around me like a shield—until Dad shot her a glare sharp enough to slice a training mat in half.

Behind him, Beta Marcus muttered, “Don’t bother begging. The decision’s final. They need discipline. Structure. Fear.”

Ugh. The “three horsemen” of parental control.

I glanced at the rest of the Gang. Lyra looked ready to teleport herself into another timeline. Draven mouthed, “You’re kidding.” Kael looked like he was doing calculations to see if we could burn Asheville down before lunch.

But none of us said a word.

Because that was the deal, unspoken but sacred: when the storm came, we braced together.

Still, the ache was instant. I would miss home—my room, the howl of the Diamond Heart wolves on patrol, the rooftop stargazing sessions we’d sneak out for, and my mom’s caramel fudge. I had spent all 17 years of my life inside this safe chaos, this beautiful madness. And now we were being shipped away like cursed relics.

For a prank.

Okay, epic prank. But still.

We stepped outside the ruined office, the fire dying behind us, the shadows of our parents long and looming. I stole a last glance at the courtyard—the cracked fountain, the rebel graffiti, the scorch marks we had signed with a wink.

Draven leaned in. “Let’s see if Asheville survives us.”

And just like that, our grins returned.

If Diamond Ville couldn’t handle us… Let’s see how long Asheville lasts before it burns, too.

***

Tears blurred the edges of my room as I hugged Kelly, my cat, for what could be the last time. “I’ll miss you, furball,” I whispered, brushing a tear from her velvet cheek.

“Two minutes!” my father’s voice echoed telepathically through the mindlink. Of course, he didn’t bother knocking. Alpha privilege.

I gave Kelly one last nose boop and inhaled the scent of home—wolf musk, pine, and Mom’s lavender soap. My room was chaos incarnate—scribbled maps, prank blueprints, and a crossbow on the bookshelf. Everything I loved, everything that made me me, was being torn away from me.

The house that had seen every one of our pranks, every night training in the woods, every secret smile from my parents... I was leaving it behind. Not because I wanted to. Because we’d pushed too far.

At least we were together—the Gang and me. That was the only mercy the Moon Goddess had shown.

The truck was already packed when I climbed into the backseat, arms crossed, face like thunder, refusing to sit up front with Dad. A tiny protest in a war I had already lost.

Mom kissed my cheek, a little too long. “You’ll be fine, sweetheart. You’ve always landed on your feet.” Her eyes shone with pride, worry, and something unspoken as she’d once made this same ride.

I didn’t respond. If I did, I might cry again.

Lyra slumped next to me, headphones in, eyes closed but not asleep. Seris clutched a leather-bound journal, quietly muttering mantras under her breath. Damon was flicking a coin in the air, Kael was brooding, and Draven—well, Draven looked ready to kill someone.

“We’ll be back,” Draven said under his breath. “And this time, we’ll bring Asheville to its knees.”

A chuckle nearly escaped me.

We were halfway to exile when Alex, our Beta, passed each of us a sheet of paper as if it were our death warrant.

Asheville Academy Rules:

No phones allowed on school premises.

No ragging or violent activity.

No pack wars.

No shifting allowed.

Mindlinks shall be blocked on school grounds.

Mind. Link. Blocked.

“THIS IS JUST NOT FAIR! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY PREPOSTEROUS!!” the twins shouted in unison, as if they’d rehearsed it. Which they probably had.

Dad and Alex? Laughing.

“Dad, we’ll forget our powers at this rate!” I wailed, flinging the paper like it was cursed.

Dad just smirked. “You’ve got no idea about the courses yet. Trust me, you’ll remember everything.”

“Oh, and no whoring around, boys,” Alex added, fighting a grin. “They sniff that out from five miles away. You get caught, it’s straight to the Red Room.”

Even I blinked. The Red Room?

“What is the Red Room?” Jacob asked, gulping.

“You’ll find out soon, kid,” Dad said with a wink that was far too cheerful for someone sending his children into purgatory.

We groaned collectively.

But then the truck stopped.

And silence fell.

We stepped out and stared.

I blinked, rubbed my eyes, then blinked again.

Nope. Not a hallucination.

In front of us stood the most magnificent red stone building I had ever seen. A clock tower taller than anything I’d imagined loomed in the center like a sentinel. Five floors in each wing, carved in impossibly precise detail. The red stone shimmered like it was melting under the sun, making the whole place look like a giant velvet cake of doom.

Lush green lawns unfurled across the campus like a dream. White fountains gushed at every turn, trimmed hedges shaped like wolves, dragons, and things I couldn’t even name. A stadium-sized playground sprawled to one side. And behind it, a plaza, gym, pool, library, even a damn shopping center.

It was Hogwarts on steroids.

And our jaws?

On. The. Floor.

That’s when we heard the click.

“DAD!” Keisha screamed.

Dad and Alex stood there, smug, holding their phones like loaded weapons. They’d taken a picture—that picture. Us. Drooling. Gaping. The once-feared Shadow Gang looked like starstruck puppies.

“Delete it!” I snapped.

Too late.

Send button: tapped.

Everyone in the pack would now have that image. Not the slick action shots we posted online. Not the mysterious silhouettes mid-prank. No, this one was real—open mouths, glazed eyes, a collective look of “WTF.”

“This is parental abuse,” Damon muttered.

“This is revenge,” Kael corrected grimly.

“Greetings, Alpha Stone!” came a voice too sugary to be trusted.

A woman in her fifties approached, draped in a blazer with the Asheville emblem stitched in gold. “Welcome to Asheville. I’m Stella Baker, Headmistress. I’ll take over from here, if I may?”

Dad nodded with way too much enthusiasm. “They’re all yours. Discipline them hard, Stella.”

Hold. Up.

Wait.

“Stella?” I narrowed my eyes.

Dad saw the suspicion blooming and sighed. “She, your mother, Alex, and I… were classmates here.”

My stomach dropped.

That’s how they knew everything. The traps. The loopholes. The Red Room. It all made sense now. Our worst nightmares were born here—and now, they were sending us back into it.

“This place made us who we are,” Alex said.

“I don’t want to be who you are,” I muttered.

But they were already leaving.

“Be good. Don’t get expelled. And if you get caught, blame Kael,” Dad called over his shoulder.

A few seconds later, they were gone.

We stood there, a band of notorious misfits, staring at the gothic gates of discipline hell.

“Guys,” Seris said slowly. “This place is a trap.”

“No,” I said, straightening my shoulders. “This place is our next mission.”

Draven grinned. “Operation: Wreak Havoc?”

“Operation: Make Them Regret Ever Accepting Us.”

And as we marched toward the velvet prison called Asheville, one thought burned in my chest like wildfire—

They thought they’d tamed the Shadow Gang.

But this?

This was just our beginning.