Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Forty years. That's how long I've spent building a life around one simple truth: supernatural creatures are monsters, and monsters need to be eliminated. I've tracked them, studied them, killed them, trained others to do the same. Built an organization from the ground up dedicated to protecting humanity from things that go bump in the night. Now I'm standing in a werewolf safe house, drinking their coffee, breathing their air, watching my daughter laugh at something her werewolf lover just said. The view through the kitchen window is obscenely domestic.

Caroline's sitting at the table, one hand resting on the barely-visible curve of her belly, her face lit up with the kind of happiness I haven't seen since before her mother died. Lysander leans against the counter, gesturing dramatically while telling some story that has her snorting into her tea. His hand finds hers on her stomach. Covers it. Protective and tender and everything I taught her monsters couldn't feel. They look happy. Genuinely, completely, disgustingly happy. My father would be rolling in his grave.

Harrison Montgomery, founder of the Montgomery Hunter lineage, who taught me to shoot silver bullets before I learned to ride a bike. Who made me watch my first werewolf die at age ten so I'd understand what we were fighting. They're animals, Robert. Never forget that. Animals wearing human skin. But the animal in that kitchen is making my daughter laugh while gently rubbing circles on her pregnant belly. "She chose well." Thalia's voice comes from my left. I didn't hear her approach-white wolves move quieter than any creature I've tracked in four decades.

She settles beside me, following my gaze through the window. "Did she?" The words scrape out harsh. "Chose a werewolf who could live three centuries while she ages normally if she stays human. Chose a life where her child will be more powerful than she'll ever be. Chose danger and violence and-" "Chose love." Thalia cuts me off, her voice steady. "That's all that matters." I want to argue. Want to list every reason this is a disaster-the lifespan disparity, the power imbalance, the constant danger that comes with pack politics and hunter vendettas.

The fact that my grandchild will be half-creature, caught between worlds. But Caroline's laughing again, and the sound tears something loose in my chest. "How do you do it?" The question escapes before I can stop it. I turn to look at Thalia properly-the Luna, the white wolf, the woman my organization tracked and nearly killed. "How do you forgive me? Work with me? After everything I've done?" Her expression doesn't shift. No anger, no accusation, just that steady assessment that makes me understand why her pack follows her.

"Because you're trying to change." She folds her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Because Caroline loves you. Because my sister manipulated you into doing terrible things, and hating you for being manipulated doesn't fix anything." "Lia showed me exactly what I wanted to see." The admission tastes bitter. "I wanted to believe every wolf I killed was a monster. Made the job easier." "Did it?" I think about the faces. The ones that haunt me at 3 AM when sleep won't come. The young wolf in Portland who begged for her life before I put silver through her heart.

The family in Montana whose children I orphaned because their parents were the wrong species. "No." My voice drops. "It never did." Thalia's silent for a long moment. Through the window, Lysander's pressing a kiss to Caroline's forehead, gentle and reverent, nothing predatory about it. "You're going to be my children's grandfather." Thalia's words pull my attention back. "That makes you family.

The pack doesn't abandon family." "Even family who spent forty years hunting them?" "Especially family who's willing to stop." She meets my eyes with an intensity that makes me understand the Alpha power she carries. "The question is whether you're actually willing. Not just tolerating this situation because Caroline forced your hand-actually changing what you believe." The challenge lands with precision. She's right to doubt me. Two months ago, I would have put a bullet in her without hesitation. Would have celebrated it as a victory for humanity.

Now she's standing beside me while I watch my daughter build a life with her brother-in-law, and all I feel is exhausted confusion. "Everything I believed was wrong." The admission costs me more than any wound I've ever sustained. "Forty years of certainty, destroyed in months." "Not everything." Thalia's voice softens marginally. "Your instinct to protect humanity wasn't wrong. Lia and hunters like her twisted that instinct into something monstrous, but the core of it-wanting to keep people safe-that's not evil." "I killed innocents." "Yes." No absolution in her voice. "You did.

And you'll carry that weight forever. But what you do now matters too." Caroline's laugh rings through the glass again. This time Lysander's laughing with her, both of them doubled over at whatever joke passed between them. My daughter's face is flushed, eyes bright, happiness radiating from every line of her body. I haven't seen her this alive since before the cancer took her mother. "She's going to be a good Luna," I find myself saying. Thalia's lips twitch. "She already is. She just doesn't realize it yet." Inside, Lysander helps Caroline to her feet.

She stretches, one hand on her lower back, and he immediately moves to massage the spot. Attentive without being asked. The kind of partner I prayed she'd find, back when I assumed that partner would be human. "He'll protect her." The words aren't a question. "With his life." Thalia's voice carries absolute certainty. "With everything he has.

Lysander plays the charming playboy, but underneath that mask is someone who would burn the world for the people he loves." "And she loves him." "Completely." I watch my daughter waddle toward the stairs, Lysander's hand at her elbow, ready to catch her if she stumbles. She swats him away with fond exasperation. He ignores her protest and stays close anyway. They're going to be okay. Against all odds, against everything I tried to prevent, my daughter is going to be happy with a werewolf Alpha and their supernatural child. The realization settles over me with unexpected peace.

"I should talk to Lysander," I say. Thalia's eyebrow rises. "Should I be concerned?" "No." I push off the wall, straighten my jacket. "I have something to offer. A peace offering, I suppose." She doesn't ask what. Just nods and steps aside. I find Lysander in his study twenty minutes later, after Caroline's settled in for a nap. He looks up when I knock, wariness flickering across his features before he smooths it into neutral politeness. "Robert. Everything okay?" "I need to teach you something." I close the door behind me, watch his wariness sharpen into alert attention.

"About hunter tactics. The techniques we use to track and kill Alphas." His jaw tightens. "Why would you-" "Because Lia knows these methods." I move closer, keeping my hands visible, my body language non-threatening. "She knows every approach pattern, every ambush strategy, every weakness we exploit. If she's coming for you-and she is-you need to know how to counter them." Lysander goes very still. "You're offering to betray your organization's secrets." "I'm offering to protect my daughter." The distinction matters. "And her child.

And the pack that's apparently going to be their family." I meet his eyes, hold them. "I can't undo forty years of damage. Can't bring back the wolves I killed or erase the pain I caused. But I can make sure Lia doesn't use my training to murder the people Caroline loves." The silence stretches. Lysander's studying me with that sharp intelligence he usually hides behind charm, reading something in my face. "You know the other hunters will execute you for this." "If they find out." I shrug.

"And frankly, I've spent forty years being loyal to an organization that was being manipulated by a woman who wanted genocide. I think I've earned the right to question that loyalty." Another long pause. Then Lysander gestures to the chair across from his desk. "Sit down." His voice has shifted-not friendly exactly, but less guarded. "Tell me everything." I sit. And for the first time in forty years, I start dismantling the weapon I spent my life becoming. Archer