Claimed By Five Alphas? (The Sextuplet Series)

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 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 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.