Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 113 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Thalia Robert Montgomery's warning gets taken with the kind of seriousness usually reserved for natural disasters and IRS audits-Caroline's relocated to the most secure cabin we have within twenty minutes, surrounded by enough warriors to repel a small invasion. She doesn't argue. Just grabs her laptop and the files she's been analyzing, moves with the grim efficiency of someone who knows her father doesn't issue empty threats. "This is ridiculous." She's setting up her makeshift workspace while three wolves position themselves at windows.

"I should be helping coordinate, not hiding in a bunker." "You should be alive." Lysander's voice carries Alpha command that probably isn't conscious. "Lia's escalating. Not just targeting pack anymore-targeting anyone who helps us. That includes you." "Especially me." Caroline's hands shake slightly on her keyboard. "I betrayed her operation. Gave you everything you needed to destroy three of their locations. She's going to make an example." The words hang heavy because nobody can argue with that logic.

Robert provides more intel over the next six hours, sitting in his makeshift cell with maps and documents spread across the floor. Names of every hunter operative still active in the region-forty-three people, some of them civilians who occasionally provide support, others full-time mercenaries with body counts. Locations of weapons caches scattered across five states. Communication codes that'll let us intercept their coordination. Financial accounts we can freeze or trace. He's burning his entire organization to protect his daughter.

"They'll kill you for this." Lysander's voice holds something between respect and concern. "The other families find out you gave us this information, you're a dead man." "I know." Robert doesn't look up from the map he's marking. "Worth it if Caroline survives." The hunters will absolutely kill him. Probably creatively, probably publicly, probably making sure every other operative understands what happens when you betray the cause. He knows this. Does it anyway.

That's the part I can't reconcile-this man who coordinated attacks that killed pack members, who burned our homes, who made my children terrified to sleep, is also a father who'd sacrifice everything for his daughter. Complexity is exhausting. I bring him food that evening because nobody else will and leaving him to starve feels like the kind of petty cruelty we're supposed to be better than. Sandwich, water, apple that's slightly bruised but edible. He looks up when I enter, expression cycling through surprise, wariness, something that might be respect. "You're the Luna.

The sister." "Yeah." I set the plate down, don't make this more than it needs to be. "You're the mass murderer turned informant. We've all got titles." His laugh is bitter. "Caroline talks about you. Says you're different from what I expected." "What did you expect?" I'm genuinely curious despite knowing the answer will probably piss me off. "A monster." He says it matter-of-factly, no malice. "The thing I've been trained to hunt since I could walk.

Predator wearing human skin, incapable of real emotion, existing only to kill." "Hate to disappoint but I'm devastatingly mundane." I lean against the wall, arms crossed. "Lawyer by day, mom by night, occasionally turn into a wolf. Pretty standard stuff." "You love your children." Not a question-observation delivered with the weight of revelation. "Protect your family. Would die for them without hesitation." "Same as anyone." "Same as me." He meets my eyes and something shifts between us. Understanding that's uncomfortable and undeniable. "I watched surveillance footage.

Saw you with your kids. The way you hold them, listen to them, make them feel safe even when everything's falling apart." "Creepy but continue." "That's when I realized." His voice goes quieter. "You're not the monster. I am." The confession lands heavy in the small space. "You're not a monster." The words cost me but they're true. "Just wrong. Misguided. Manipulated by someone who knew exactly which buttons to push." "Doesn't excuse the deaths." His hands clench. "The families I destroyed, the lives I ended. Being manipulated doesn't make the bodies less dead." "No.

It doesn't." I'm not offering absolution because that's not mine to give. "But recognizing you were wrong? That matters. Trying to fix it? That matters more." He looks at the food I brought, throat working around words that clearly don't want to form. "I'm sorry. For the attacks, the deaths, everything. Lia was convincing and I wanted to believe-" "That we were the enemy." I finish for him. "Yes. Easier than admitting I spent my life killing people who feel just as deeply as I do." His voice cracks completely.

"People who love their children, who laugh with their friends, who are terrified of dying exactly the same as I am." The silence that follows feels weighted with every complicated truth we're both processing. I move closer, touch his hand briefly-contact that's more about shared understanding than forgiveness. "Caroline loves Lysander. The bond chose them. That's real, even if it terrifies you." "I know." He turns his hand under mine, grip tightening for just a second before releasing. "That's why I'm doing this. Because she chose him over me, over her family, over everything she knew.

And if she loves him that much, if she's willing to risk everything..." He stops, can't finish. "Then maybe we're worth loving." I complete the thought he can't voice. "Maybe we're worth the risk." "Yeah." The word comes out rough. "That's what terrifies me most. That she might be right." I leave him with that revelation, closing the door on a man who's spent decades hunting my kind and is just now realizing we bleed the same.

My phone buzzes three hours later while I'm checking on the kids-Phoenix finally asleep after two hours of questions about where Uncle Lysander went, Orion reading under his covers with flashlight, Luna curled against my side having nightmares about fires. Video message. Sender unknown. File size suggesting something longer than a quick text. I'm about to delete it as potential virus when every phone in the cabin starts buzzing simultaneously. Pack-wide message hitting two hundred devices at once. How she got our numbers, nobody knows. Lia's face fills my screen and my blood turns to ice.

"Hello, family." Her smile could freeze blood. "I see you've been busy. Attacking my operations, turning my people, trying to hunt me down. Adorable. Really. The determination is inspiring in a pathetic sort of way." She leans closer to the camera, that manic energy I remember from childhood now refined into something absolutely lethal. "But you made one critical mistake-you underestimated how much I hate you. Every. Single. One of you." Her voice drops to something that makes my skin crawl. "The next attack won't be subtle. Won't be strategic. It'll be total war.

Every resource I have, every ally I've cultivated, every weapon at my disposal. And when I'm done, Silvermoon Pack will be extinct. Footnote in history. Cautionary tale about what happens when wolves forget their place." She stands, moves away from the camera, and I see the facility behind her-industrial, fortified, clearly designed for exactly the kind of siege she's planning. "Come find me. If you dare." The video cuts to coordinates. Yellowstone National Park. Specific location that our maps will triangulate to whatever fortress she's built for final confrontation.

The message ends and my phone's immediately exploding with incoming calls. Lysander, Kieran, Marcus, every pack member who just watched our enemy issue formal declaration of total war. I'm staring at those coordinates, calculator part of my brain already running distances and assault timelines and probability of survival. Lia's done running. Done attacking from shadows. Done playing games. She's issued challenge, provided location, dared us to come fight her on ground she's chosen.

And we're going to have to accept because the alternative is waiting for her to bring that total war to our doorstep when we're even less prepared. My mate's voice cuts through the chaos in my head. "Thalia. Tell me you're seeing this." "Yeah." The word tastes like ash and inevitability. "I'm seeing it. Yellowstone. She's at Yellowstone." "We need to call emergency pack meeting. Now." "I know." I'm already moving, already calculating what comes next. "Kieran? This is it. This is endgame." "Then we end it." His voice carries the same lethal certainty I'm feeling. "Together.

All of us." The call disconnects and I'm left staring at coordinates that might be our salvation or our mass grave. Either way, we're going. Because Lia's right about one thing-we don't back down from direct threats. We meet them head-on and burn everything to the ground. Archer