Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 107 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Lysander Calling an emergency pack meeting when we're actively under siege is the kind of decision that'll either look brilliant or catastrophically stupid depending on whether we all die in the next hour. Two hundred wolves crammed into the main cabin that barely holds eighty comfortably, everyone radiating varying degrees of terror and fury and exhaustion. The air's thick enough to choke on-sweat, blood, smoke from the fires still smoldering outside. "We're going on offense." I don't waste time on preamble because we don't have time to waste.

"Hunting Lia instead of waiting for her next attack. I need full pack consensus before we move." The room erupts immediately. Exactly as expected. "About fucking time." Beta warrior Thomas, whose sister died in yesterday's attack. "Sitting here waiting to die isn't strategy, it's suicide." "Leaving our families undefended is suicide." Elder Margaret, Catherine's sister, voice shaking with grief and rage. "You want to pull our warriors away while hunters know exactly where we are?" "We leave enough wolves to defend-" I start.

"Enough?" Marcus cuts me off, standing with the kind of controlled fury that says he's been holding this in for days. "Five dead yesterday with full defensive positions. How many die when we split our forces?" The room divides along predictable lines-younger wolves who want action versus elders who've survived by being cautious. Families with children versus warriors with nothing to lose. The pack fracturing in real-time while I watch. "We should negotiate." Marcus's voice cuts through the chaos. "Find out what Lia actually wants.

See if there's a deal to be made." Kieran's laugh is bitter enough to curdle milk. "She wants us dead. All of us. There's no negotiating with genocide." "You don't know that-" "I know she spent two years coordinating attacks. I know she just killed five pack members while we were chasing ghosts." Kieran's voice drops to something lethal. "I know the last time someone tried negotiating with fanatics, it ended with bodies and regret." Marcus squares his shoulders, faces down a former Alpha heir with the kind of courage that demands respect even when he's wrong. "We can't win a war of attrition.

The hunters have funding, training, numbers. Professional mercenaries. What do we have?" "Each other." The answer comes from Thalia, standing at the back. "We have pack bonds and desperation and the fact that running hasn't worked." "Heart isn't enough." Marcus sounds tired, defeated. "We're wolves, not soldiers. Most of us have never fought to kill. And you want to send us against trained mercenaries?" The question hangs heavy because he's not wrong. We're corporate professionals, teachers, accountants who happen to shift into wolves monthly. Not warriors prepared for systematic warfare.

"We don't send everyone." I'm already calculating numbers, risk assessment, who stays versus who fights. "We send our best. Twenty wolves who can actually fight. The rest defend here." "Twenty against an army." Marcus shakes his head. "That's not strategy, that's suicide with extra steps." The arguments continue for another hour. Voices rising, tempers fraying, pack bonds pulling in every direction simultaneously. I'm trying to hear everyone while making decisions none of them will like but all of them need me to make. This is leadership.

Not the ceremonial bullshit or the political maneuvering. This-making impossible choices while people you're responsible for yell about how you're killing them either way. "Break." The Alpha command cuts through chaos. "Twenty minutes. Vote when we reconvene." The cabin empties in waves. Caroline's waiting outside, looking like she hasn't slept since Montana. She pulls me away from the crowd, toward the tree line where we have something resembling privacy. "I have something." She's holding a flash drive with the kind of care people use for explosives. "More files from my father's office.

I broke into his system remotely. He doesn't know I have copies." My stomach drops. "Caroline-" "Locations of every hunter safe house in the region. Communication protocols they're using. Supply chains for weapons and equipment." She presses the flash drive into my hand. "Everything you'll need to find Lia and the people helping her." The weight of what she's offering crashes through me. "You broke into your father's secure systems. For us." "For you." Her voice is steady despite the terror written across her face. "For your pack. For-they're going to be my pack too. Once we survive this.

Once the bond completes. They're mine to protect even if they don't know it yet." "You're risking everything-" "I know what I'm risking." She cuts me off, hand cupping my face with shocking gentleness. "My father will figure out eventually that someone accessed his files. He'll know it was me. And then I'll be-" She stops, can't finish that thought. "Why?" The question tears out of me. "Why throw away your family, your safety, everything you've known?" "Because they're going to be my pack too." She repeats it with more certainty. "Because I love you.

Because it's the right thing and I'm tired of pretending that doesn't matter." I love you. She said it. Actually said the words I've been terrified to hear because they make this real, make losing her a possibility I can't survive. I kiss her hard, desperate, grateful, trying to convey everything I don't have words for. When we break apart we're both breathing hard. "I don't deserve you." The confession tastes like truth. "Probably not." Her smile is shaky but genuine. "You're stuck with me anyway." The flash drive burns in my pocket as we head back.

Information that could end this war or get us all killed depending on how Lia's prepared for exactly this scenario. The vote happens with brutal efficiency. Hands raised, counted twice for accuracy. The room splits almost exactly down the middle-102 for going on offense, 98 against. Narrow margin. Four votes different and we'd be stuck in defensive hell until resources ran out or Lia got bored and finished us. "Motion passes." My voice carries to every corner. "We go hunting." The room erupts again-half celebrating, half looking like I just sentenced them to death. Maybe I did.

Maybe we'll look back on this moment and recognize it as when everything fell apart. Or maybe it's when we finally stopped letting fear make our decisions. "I'll lead the assault team." Kieran's voice cuts through the noise. Every instinct I have screams to say no. Protect my brother, keep him safe, put someone else in danger instead. But my mouth forms different words because being Alpha means doing what's right, not what's comfortable. "You're our best strategist." The acknowledgment costs me everything.

"If anyone can make this work, it's you." "My wolf's not fully back yet." He's being honest about his limitations in a way the old Kieran never would have. "The shift's still painful, incomplete. But the tactical planning doesn't require supernatural strength." "And if you need to shift mid-battle?" Marcus's question holds legitimate concern. "Then I deal with the pain and shift anyway." Kieran's voice goes flat, absolute. "My mate's sister is trying to kill my family. My children are terrified. My pack is dying." He meets Marcus's eyes.

"I'll fight through whatever physical limitations I have because the alternative is unacceptable." Thalia's watching from the back, expression unreadable. But I see the moment something shifts in her face-watching us work together, watching Kieran volunteer despite his limitations, watching pack bonds form through crisis. We spend the next three hours planning. Kieran and I work in that weird synchronization that comes from being raised together, from training under the same tyrant, from knowing how each other thinks before words form. He maps assault vectors while I coordinate supplies.

I identify team members while he runs tactical scenarios. We argue about approach angles and defensive fallbacks and extraction protocols, finishing each other's sentences with the ease of decades working together. Thalia approaches as we're finalizing timeline. "You two." "What?" "You're stronger together than either one alone." She's looking between us with something that might be revelation. "Maybe that's been true all along. Maybe that's what Magnus never understood-leadership isn't singular dominance.

It's this." She gestures at the maps, the plans, the way we've built something neither of us could have managed separately. The bond flickers again-not mine with Caroline, but something older. Pack bonds that tie brother to brother, Alpha to Luna, family to family regardless of biological certainty or supernatural compulsion. Maybe she's right. Maybe we've been strongest together all along and too stupid to recognize it. "Twenty-four hours." Kieran's studying the timeline.

"We hit Lia's location in twenty-four hours with everything we've got." "And if it's another trap?" Marcus's question holds no accusation, just tactical concern. "Then we adapt." I meet his eyes. "But we're done waiting for her to pick us off one attack at a time. We're done being prey." The meeting dissolves, wolves moving to preparation with the focused energy of people who know they might die tomorrow. Caroline's flash drive downloads across three laptops, information spreading through encrypted channels.

Locations of hunter safe houses lighting up like Christmas lights across Montana, Wyoming, Colorado. Communication protocols that'll let us intercept their coordination. Supply chains we can disrupt or track or both. Everything we need to find Lia and end this. Or everything we need to walk straight into the trap she's been preparing since the moment we started hunting her. Either way, we move in twenty-four hours. And whatever happens next, we face it together. Archer