Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 104 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Thalia Planning an assault on Lia's Montana location turns the main cabin into a war room that smells like stale coffee and tactical desperation. Maps cover every surface, weapon inventories spread across tables, pack members cycling through offering skills and arguing about approach vectors. Lysander's coordinating with the kind of methodical precision that comes from actually being Alpha now, not just playing the role.

Kieran's beside him offering strategic input, and watching them work together reminds me they were raised for exactly this-coordinated leadership when the pack faces extinction-level threats. Except Kieran's wolf is still returning in fits and starts that leave him gasping. He shifted this morning. Partial transformation that got him maybe sixty percent there before his body gave up, dumped him back to human, and left him dry-heaving on the cabin floor for twenty minutes. Progress, technically. Also terrifying to watch. The bond stays silent but I can feel him anyway.

His presence in a room changes the air pressure, makes my skin aware of exactly where he is without looking. His determination bleeds through in ways that have nothing to do with supernatural connection and everything to do with knowing someone well enough to read their breathing patterns. "We need a team." Lysander's marking locations on a topographical map that makes Montana look significantly more complicated than I'd prefer. "Small enough to move fast, large enough to handle resistance." "Fifteen wolves." Kieran's already calculating odds, running scenarios in that tactical brain.

"Three vehicles. Hit at dawn when they're least prepared." "I'm going." The words come out before I fully process them. Both brothers turn to look at me with matching expressions of absolutely-the-fuck-not. "She's my sister." I cross my arms, lawyer voice activating. "My blood, my responsibility, my mess to clean up." "She's also a threat to the Luna." Lysander's using Alpha command that probably works on everyone except me. "Keeping you safe takes priority." "I'm not asking permission." My voice stays level despite wanting to throw something at both of them.

"Lia's spent two years orchestrating attacks against this pack because I took her place. Because I got claimed by the man she wanted. This is personal for her, which makes it personal for me." Kieran's jaw works but he doesn't argue. Knows me well enough to recognize when pushing back will just make me dig in harder. The team assembles over the next twelve hours. Wolves we trust with our lives-Beta Marcus staying behind to defend the main group, strict orders not to engage if hunters attack again. Just protect and retreat, no heroics.

The kids are with Rosalie in the most fortified cabin, surrounded by warriors who'll die before letting anything touch them. Phoenix cried when I explained I'd be gone a few days. Orion asked tactical questions about risk assessment. Luna just hugged me tight and whispered "come back" against my neck. I promised. Hope I can keep it. Night before we leave, I'm in our borrowed room packing weapons with the kind of focus that keeps panic at bay. Check the Glock's magazine, chamber a round, safe it, holster. Repeat with the backup nine-millimeter.

Check the knife sheaths, test the edges, wonder when my life became this. "You don't have to come." Kieran's voice from the doorway makes me jump despite supernatural hearing that should have caught his approach. "She's my sister." I don't look up from checking ammunition counts. "My mess to clean up." "It's our mess now." He crosses the room, hands settling on my shoulders with the kind of certainty that has nothing to do with mate bonds. "Everything's ours. The good, the catastrophically terrible, all of it." The possessive way he says it isn't about supernatural compulsion.

It's about choice, about the life we've built brick by fucking brick, about the family we're protecting against my blood relative who wants us dead. I set down the gun I'm checking, turn to face him fully. "When this is over-" "When this is over, we start fresh." His hands slide from my shoulders to frame my face. "No bond to tell us what to feel. Just us figuring out what we actually want without biology making the decision for us." "What do you want?" The question comes out smaller than intended. He doesn't hesitate. "You. Forever.

In whatever form that takes." The certainty in his voice makes my chest tight, makes every doubt I've been carrying feel simultaneously valid and completely irrelevant. "Even if the bond never comes back?" "Even if." His forehead presses to mine. "I chose you before the bond completed. Spent eight years searching for you. Built a family with you. The bond was just confirmation of what I already knew." "And if I'm not sure yet?" Honesty tastes bitter but necessary.

"If I need more time to figure out if what I feel is real or just leftover supernatural interference?" "Then I wait." His thumb strokes across my cheekbone. "However long you need. Because you're worth waiting for, Thalia. You've always been worth it." The kiss is inevitable-soft and certain and tasting like the coffee we've both been mainlining for twelve hours straight. When we break apart, his expression holds something that makes my stomach flip. "Tomorrow we end this." Not a question.

"Tomorrow we end this." I agree, already running through scenarios where Lia's prepared for exactly this assault. We roll out at dawn with that particular silence that comes from knowing this could go catastrophically wrong. Fifteen wolves split between three vehicles, armed with everything we could scavenge from pack armories and Robert Montgomery's confiscated weapons. The irony of using hunter gear to hunt a wolf isn't lost on anyone. Lysander drives the lead vehicle with Caroline's intel pulled up on his phone, coordinates that supposedly lead to Lia's operational base.

Kieran's beside him running tactical scenarios out loud, adjusting plans for contingencies that probably won't happen but might. I'm in the back with three warriors who look young enough to make me feel ancient despite being barely thirty myself. They're nervous, radiating that particular energy of wolves who've never actually fought to kill before. The drive to Montana takes three hours through increasingly desolate terrain.

Trees give way to scrubland, mountains rising in the distance, civilization thinning until we're driving through the kind of empty that makes you understand why hunters chose this location. Nobody's around to hear screaming. Twenty miles from Lia's coordinates, Lysander's phone rings. Unknown number lighting up the dashboard in ways that make every wolf in the convoy go rigid. He answers on speaker because we're past the point of private conversations.

"Who is this?" Lia's voice pours through, cold and amused and exactly how I remember from childhood when she'd found some new way to destroy me. "Hello, little brother. Heard you're looking for me." My hands clench hard enough that nails break skin. "How's my dear sister?" She's performing now, voice pitched to carry maximum psychological damage. "The children? Still playing house with a man who destroyed her? How tragically predictable." The convoy keeps moving but I can feel everyone's attention shift, feel the weight of knowing we're driving into whatever trap she's prepared.

"You've been busy." Lysander's voice stays level, giving away nothing. "Burning cabins. Killing pack members. Impressive work." "Necessary work." Her voice sharpens. "Someone had to remind Silvermoon Pack that actions have consequences. That stealing what belongs to others comes with a price." "I didn't steal anything." The words tear out of me before I can stop them. "You lost Kieran because you're cruel and manipulative and he finally saw through it." "Oh Thalia." She sounds delighted that I'm here, that I took the bait. "Sweet, pathetic, wolfless Thalia.

Except you're not wolfless anymore, are you? Developed your wolf just in time to play Luna. How convenient." "What do you want, Lia?" Kieran's question cuts through her performance. The silence stretches long enough that I think maybe she hung up. Then her voice comes back different-colder, more certain, absolutely lethal. "I want you to keep driving. Come find me. Let's finish this the way it was always going to end." A pause. "Fair warning though-I'm not alone. And the people I'm with? They're significantly less interested in talking than I am." The line goes dead.

We're still twenty miles out, driving straight into whatever ambush she's prepared, and turning back now means she wins. Lysander meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. "Your sister?" "My sister." I confirm, tasting ash and old grief and the weight of blood ties that should mean family but only ever meant war. The convoy keeps moving toward Montana sunrise and whatever's waiting there. Archer