Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 110 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Lysander Coordinating three simultaneous military operations through cell service that cuts out every twelve seconds turns out to be exactly as fun as it sounds, which is to say I'm approximately thirty seconds from throwing my phone into the forest and screaming until my throat gives out. Team Alpha-Kieran's unit hitting the Wyoming compound-reports in first. "Light resistance. Four hostiles neutralized.

Securing location now." His voice is steady, professional, giving away nothing about whether he's terrified or exhilarated or just running on tactical autopilot. Probably all three knowing my brother. "Copy that. Document everything. Looking for intel on Lia's actual location." Team Bravo checks in five minutes later, secondary fighters led by Marcus taking the Colorado safe house. "Injuries but nothing critical. Target secured. Found supply caches and communication equipment.

Sending photos now." My phone buzzes with images-crates of ammunition, tactical gear, enough weapons to outfit a small army. Professional hunter infrastructure that makes my stomach turn thinking about how long they've been preparing this. Twenty minutes since Team Charlie deployed. Thalia's team hitting the Montana compound that intelligence said was lightly defended, easy target, straightforward assault. Twenty minutes of radio silence.

I'm staring at my phone waiting for it to ring, trying to convince myself that comms are just spotty, that she's fine, that this is normal operational delay and not the screaming certainty building in my gut that something's catastrophically wrong. The Alpha bonds tell a different story. I can feel Thalia's team through pack connections-they're alive but distressed, panicked, that particular signature of wolves in active combat fighting for survival.

"Call them again." Caroline's beside me, laptop open, tracking all three teams on satellite imagery that's probably illegal to access but fuck it, we're past caring about FCC violations. I dial Thalia's number for the seventh time. Straight to voicemail. Try Sarah, the young wolf who was shaking in the vehicle this morning. Nothing. Cycle through every team member's contact. Not a single answer. My wolf is losing its mind, demanding I go, demanding I protect pack members who are mine to defend.

But leaving the retreat means abandoning two hundred wolves who are equally mine, equally vulnerable if this whole offensive was elaborate trap to pull our best fighters away. "I need to go." The words taste like betrayal. "They're in trouble and I'm sitting here-" "Then go." Caroline doesn't look up from her laptop. "I can hold things here." "You're human. If hunters attack while I'm gone-" "Then I die doing something that matters." Her voice is sharp, final, carrying certainty that makes my chest tight. "You've trained me, Lysander. I know the protocols.

I can coordinate defenses for a few hours." She finally looks at me and the determination written across her face reminds me why I fell for her in the first place. Not the sunshine and designer heels-this. The steel underneath that only shows when everything's burning. "Caroline-" "Your Luna needs you." She's already pushing me toward where vehicles are parked. "So does your brother. I'll be here when you get back. I promise." The promise tastes like hope and terror combined because promises made during warfare have a tendency to become lies written on gravestones.

I grab her face, kiss her once-fierce and fast and desperate. "If you die, I'm following you into whatever comes next and yelling at you for being stupid." "Deal." Her smile is shaky but genuine. "Now go save your family before I change my mind about being noble." I'm running for my truck before she finishes speaking, already feeling the shift starting as adrenaline hits. Bones beginning to break, fur pushing through skin, my body preparing for violence while my brain tries to calculate drive time versus shift time versus how long Team Charlie has before distressed becomes dead.

The shift completes mid-stride and suddenly I'm on four legs, massive grey wolf covering ground faster than any vehicle could. The Montana compound is forty miles north-hour drive becomes twenty minutes at full supernatural sprint. Trees blur past. My paws tear earth with each stride. The pack bonds pull me forward, getting stronger as distance closes, feeding me information my human brain couldn't process but my wolf understands instinctively. Pain. Fear. Determination.

The particular signature of wolves fighting together, pack bonds amplifying strength, turning twelve individuals into a coordinated unit that's greater than the sum. But also: desperation. The bonds are fraying at the edges, wolves reaching their limits, beginning to break. I push harder, lungs burning, muscles screaming, but I'm Alpha and that means I don't get to quit when my pack needs me. The compound comes into view and carnage hits me like a physical blow. This wasn't lightly defended. Wasn't six mercenaries with light weapons.

This was a trap specifically designed to kill as many wolves as possible, and we walked straight into it because Caroline's intel was either wrong or deliberately compromised. The abandoned building I can see from the tree line has multiple blast craters-explosive charges positioned to hit anyone entering. Concealed positions in surrounding structures give mercs elevated firing positions covering every approach. At least twenty hostiles that I can count, maybe more.

My wolves are pinned down behind vehicles and debris, wounded, running out of ammunition, fighting with the kind of desperate efficiency that says they know they're dying and refusing to make it easy. I crash into the fight in full Alpha form-three hundred pounds of muscle and rage and absolutely lethal intent. The nearest merc doesn't see me coming until my jaws close around his throat, tearing through tactical vest and flesh with equal ease.

Second merc turns to fire but I'm already moving, faster than human eye can track, slamming into him with enough force to crack ribs and send his rifle flying. My claws tear through whatever body armor he's wearing, finding flesh underneath, painting Montana dirt with blood that smells wrong-human, enemy, threat to pack. Third merc actually gets a shot off. The round catches my shoulder, burning through fur and muscle but I'm running on adrenaline and Alpha power that makes pain irrelevant. I'm on him in seconds, ending him with efficiency born from decades of training for exactly this.

The tide turns immediately. Mercs who were systematically executing pinned wolves suddenly realize they're fighting an Alpha in full rage, and the tactical advantage shifts hard. My wolves rally-Sarah's back on her feet firing with renewed accuracy, Marcus's nephew shifting to wolf form and tearing into the merc who'd been flanking their position. The pack bonds sing with renewed strength, wolves feeding off my presence, remembering they're supernatural predators not prey. Ten minutes of brutal violence and it's over.

Mercs dead or fleeing, my wolves securing the compound, adrenaline slowly giving way to the reality of what just happened. I shift back to human, gasping on blood-soaked ground, and start counting bodies. Eleven wolves standing. One down hard-looks like Sarah took a round to the leg but she's alive, conscious, putting pressure on the wound with shaking hands. Eleven standing means one missing. I'm scanning the compound, pack bonds reaching for that familiar presence, looking for white fur or human form or anything that tells me where my Luna is. Nothing.

The bond is there but distant, faint, like she's unconscious or- "Where's Thalia?" The question comes out rougher than intended. Sarah looks up from her wounded leg, face going pale. "They took her. Three mercs in tactical gear. She was covering our retreat when they hit her with something-trank gun maybe. She went down and they grabbed her before we could-" Her voice breaks completely. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. We tried to-" But I'm not listening anymore.

I'm reaching through the pack bonds, finding that thread that connects me to Thalia, following it to wherever the fuck they took my brother's mate. The Luna who's supposed to be untouchable. Who I swore to protect. Who trusted me enough to walk into this trap. And I let her get taken. Archer