Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 100 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Thalia The fire turns the mountain into a vision of hell-flames climbing toward stars, smoke choking air that was pristine thirty seconds ago, wolves scrambling in every direction while children scream with the kind of terror that'll haunt their dreams for years. I'm out of the cabin in seconds, scanning for my kids who are thankfully with Rosalie in the central building, when I see him. Older man. Salt-and-pepper hair. Moving through chaos with military precision that stands out against the panic like a shark in a goldfish bowl.

He's not running, not scared, just directing the attack with hand signals to figures melting between trees. Professional. Coordinated. The person in charge. My wolf rises before conscious thought catches up, bones breaking and reforming with the kind of agony I'm learning to embrace because it means power, means speed, means I can protect what's mine. The shift completes and I'm running on four legs, white fur catching moonlight, closing distance faster than human form ever could.

He doesn't see me coming-too focused on his team, on the fires, on the tactical execution of burning families alive. I hit him from the side with enough force to break ribs, bring him down hard on forest floor littered with pine needles and the detritus of plans gone wrong. His team sees their leader pinned beneath a massive white wolf with teeth at his throat and they scatter-running deeper into trees, abandoning the man who was directing them seconds ago. They weren't expecting the Luna to be this aggressive.

Weren't prepared for someone who'd spent eight years protecting cubs alone to suddenly have supernatural strength backing maternal rage. My jaws close around his throat just shy of puncturing, holding him immobile while he gasps beneath me. One wrong move and I tear his windpipe out. He knows it. I can smell the fear spiking through whatever tactical training taught him how to burn people. A massive grey wolf appears beside me-Lysander in his Alpha form, larger than me, radiating dominance that makes my wolf want to submit and my brain tell it to shut the fuck up because we're busy.

Together we drag Robert Montgomery back toward the main cabin complex. I've got his throat, Lysander has his arm in his jaws, and between us we move this grown man through forest like he's a particularly uncooperative piece of luggage. Kieran meets us at the clearing edge, human because he can't shift anymore, but that doesn't make him less lethal. He's got zip ties, tactical mind already working through next steps, that devastating competence on full display. The three of us work in perfect sync without speaking.

Kieran binds Robert's hands while Lysander shifts back to human with the kind of fluidity I'm still learning, grabs clothes someone thought to leave by the tree line. I stay wolf longer-feeling my power, my strength, the absolute certainty that this is exactly where I need to be. When I shift back the pain's worse in reverse, bones screaming as they remember human shape. I'm gasping on forest floor, naked and vulnerable, when Kieran's jacket settles around my shoulders before I even have to ask. Small gesture. Huge impact.

He knows my body language well enough to read when I need covering, when I need grounding, when I need him to just be present without demanding anything. "Get him inside." Lysander's voice carries Alpha command that makes even wounded, terrified pack members snap to attention. "Main cabin. Someone get medical supplies. And for fuck's sake, put those fires out before we lose more structures." The pack mobilizes with the kind of efficiency that comes from weeks of drills and tonight's brutal reminder why those drills matter.

They're looking to all three of us-not just Lysander as Alpha, but Kieran for strategic thinking and me for the Luna power that caught their enemy leader. We're strongest together. That truth settles in my chest with uncomfortable certainty. Robert Montgomery sits zip-tied to a chair in the main cabin looking exactly like what he is-a man who's spent decades hunting things he considers monsters, now captured by three of them. His salt-and-pepper hair's mussed, his tactical gear torn from being dragged through forest, but his eyes stay sharp, calculating, absolutely unafraid.

"You're on our territory." His first words since we brought him in, voice steady despite the circumstances. "This is our land. You need to leave." Lysander paces the cabin with barely restrained violence, still shirtless because getting dressed apparently wasn't priority one. "We've been here for generations. Before you were born. Before your father was born. This has been pack territory for over a hundred years." "Doesn't matter who was here first." Robert's smile could freeze blood.

"Matters who's willing to fight for it." Kieran leans against the wall, arms crossed, that tactical brain already working through interrogation angles. "You coordinated tonight's attack. Four cabins, simultaneous ignition, professional accelerant. That's not random violence." "That's a message." Robert doesn't deny it, actually sounds proud. "You think you can just invade our hunting grounds, set up shop, and we'll roll over? Silvermoon Pack's been expanding for years.

Taking territory that belongs to human families who've lived here since this was frontier land." "Human families who hunt supernatural beings for profit." My voice comes out colder than intended. "Let's not pretend this is about land rights. This is about genocide dressed up as property dispute." His eyes find mine and something shifts in his expression-recognition, maybe respect, definitely calculation. "You're the white wolf.

The Luna who shouldn't exist." "The Luna who just dragged your ass back here before your team could finish their murder spree." I move closer, let him see exactly what he's dealing with. "Where's Caroline?" His face goes carefully blank. Too blank. The kind of nothing-expression that means you just hit the thing that matters. "My daughter has nothing to do with this." "Bullshit." Lysander stops pacing, goes dangerously still. "She was at your compound for two days. Came back terrified about your plans.

Either she's involved or she's being manipulated by someone you're working with." "Lia." I watch Robert's micro-expressions, looking for the tell that confirms our intel. "Or should I call her Lia? Your newest associate who's feeding you information about pack vulnerabilities?" Nothing. Not a flicker, not a flinch, just that same cold calculation that says he's been trained for interrogation better than we've been trained to conduct them. "I don't know who you're talking about." His voice stays level. "But I know you're squatting on land that's been in Montgomery family hands since 1843.

This mountain, these forests, everything for forty miles-my ancestors settled here, fought for it, died protecting it." "From what?" Kieran's question cuts through the territorial posturing. "What were they protecting it from that required systematic hunting of anything supernatural?" "From things that shouldn't exist." Robert's voice carries absolute conviction. "From monsters wearing human faces who think they have rights to our land, our resources, our world." The hatred in his voice is pure, undiluted, the kind of certainty that comes from generations of conditioning.

This isn't just about property. This is about ideology passed down through bloodlines, teaching children to kill before they can read. "You set fire to cabins full of families tonight." My hands clench at my sides. "Children, elders, wolves who couldn't fight back. That's your righteous protection?" "Casualties of war." He doesn't even have the grace to look ashamed. "You want to live on our territory? You deal with the consequences." Lysander moves fast, has Robert by the throat before anyone can stop him. "Those casualties have names. Had lives.

Had families who loved them." "So did the people your kind have killed over centuries." Robert doesn't struggle, just meets Lysander's eyes with matching fury. "You think we started this? We're defending ourselves from predators who've been hunting humans since we crawled out of caves." The standoff stretches until Kieran's hand on Lysander's shoulder pulls him back. "This isn't getting us information. Lock him down. Post guards. We interrogate properly when everyone's calmed down." Robert laughs as they drag him toward the reinforced storage room we're using as a cell.

"Doesn't matter what you do to me. This war's been going on for nine hundred years. One old man won't stop what's coming." The door slams shut and suddenly the cabin's too quiet, filled with three people processing what we just heard. "Nine hundred years." Lysander's voice is hollow. "We're not fighting one family. We're fighting history." Kieran's already pulling up maps, calculating angles, thinking ten steps ahead. "History can be rewritten.

We just need leverage." I'm staring at the door hiding a man who thinks burning children alive is justified, who smiles talking about genocide, who represents centuries of hatred coded into DNA. And somewhere out there, Lia's feeding this man everything he needs to finish what tonight started. We caught the general. But the war's just beginning. Archer