Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 122 Dec 25, 2025 POV: Thalia Thirteen dead. The number keeps circling my brain while I'm trying to process the rest-dozens wounded, three houses burned to foundations, and our Alpha currently being tortured in some hunter facility because my psychotic sister can't handle rejection. The pack house looks like a war zone. Lower-ranked wolves huddle in corners whispering about surrender, about running, about anything except the obvious truth that we're absolutely fucked without leadership.

"We need to evacuate." Marcus-pack security, beta rank, currently bleeding from a shoulder wound-addresses the crowd with the kind of panic that spreads faster than fire. "They proved they can hit us anytime. We're sitting targets." "We need revenge." Someone else shouts from the back, young warrior whose name I should know but can't remember through the chaos. "They took our Alpha. We hunt them down and make them regret breathing." The arguments escalate, voices climbing over each other, the kind of pack-wide panic that ends with everyone dead or scattered.

We're hemorrhaging control by the second. Kieran climbs onto the central platform where Alphas traditionally address the pack. Every head turns, conversations dying into expectant silence that feels heavier than the screaming. "I'm acting Alpha until we get Lysander back." His voice carries Alpha command despite being human, despite having no supernatural authority, despite everything saying this shouldn't work. Elder Williams interrupts before Kieran finishes his next sentence. "You're not the Alpha heir anymore. Your brother is.

You have no authority here." "I was trained for this." Kieran's jaw clenches but his voice stays level, controlled, absolutely certain. "Thirty years preparing to lead. Lysander had three months. Until he returns, I lead." "You're human." Catherine this time, elder who's never liked change, probably still bitter about Magnus choosing Kieran originally. "You can't feel pack bonds, can't shift, can't protect us the way a real Alpha can." "I can think strategically, coordinate resources, and keep you alive while we mount a rescue." He meets her eyes without flinching.

"Which is more than anyone else here is currently doing." The pack divides instantly. Half nodding, accepting the logic that Kieran's the best option despite his humanity. Half muttering protests, questioning whether human leadership counts, whether this violates some ancient pack law nobody's bothered reading in decades. Marcus breaks the stalemate. "I support acting Alpha Kieran. Show of hands-who else accepts his temporary leadership?" The vote isn't unanimous. Maybe two-thirds raise their hands while the rest stay silent or actively glare.

It's the barest majority, the kind of tenuous support that could shatter the second something goes wrong. But it's enough. Barely. Kieran starts organizing-medical triage, security rotations, evacuation protocols for vulnerable families. Falling into CEO mode that translates surprisingly well to crisis management, probably because corporate warfare and actual warfare aren't that different when you strip away the pretense. I'm helping coordinate medical supplies when Robert Montgomery appears in the doorway looking like death and regret had a baby.

Blood stains his tactical gear, face pale beneath grime, hands shaking slightly with what's probably shock or adrenaline crash or both. "I can help get him back." The words come out rough, desperate, nothing like the confident hunter who led attacks on our territories. "You led the attack that got him captured!" My voice climbs before I can control it, eight years of survival instincts screaming that this man is dangerous, has killed our people, has earned exactly zero trust.

"Because they had Caroline!" He's moving closer now, hands up in surrender gesture that means nothing when he's already proven he'll betray us. "They threatened to kill my daughter if I didn't cooperate. You think I wanted to betray you? You think I wanted to lead hunters against wolves I'd promised to help?" His voice cracks completely. "I had a choice-watch my daughter die or help them capture your Alpha. What would you have done?" The question hits harder than it should because I know the answer. I've made impossible choices protecting my children.

I'd burn the world for Orion, Luna, Phoenix without hesitation. Doesn't make Robert less responsible for the thirteen bodies currently being prepared for funeral rites. Doesn't erase the blood on his hands, the lives destroyed because he chose his daughter over our pack. "Lia has your brother." Robert's talking faster now, words tumbling out desperately. "I know where. I know the facility layout, security protocols, guard rotations, everything.

I helped her plan the security infrastructure thinking it was for protecting hunter operations, not for torturing captive Alphas." "Why should we believe you?" Kieran's appeared beside me, expression carved from ice. "You've betrayed us repeatedly. Given us false intelligence. Led attacks that killed our people." "Because Caroline's pregnant." The admission stops everyone mid-breath. "With Lysander's child. If he dies, my daughter loses her mate and my grandchild loses their father." His hands shake harder. "Let me fix this.

Let me do something that doesn't make me complicit in genocide." I want to refuse. Want to tell him to fuck off, that his guilt doesn't resurrect the dead, that sympathy for his impossible position doesn't erase the bodies we're burying tonight. But Caroline stumbles through the door before I can speak, supported by Rosalie who looks about five seconds from stabbing someone on principle. Blood still crusts Caroline's face from where the merc hit her, temple swelling purple, moving with the careful precision of someone fighting through concussion. She meets my eyes. "Listen to him.

Please." "Caroline-" Robert starts. "He's the only chance Lysander has." Her voice is steady despite everything, bubbly exterior stripped away leaving steel underneath. "I know what he did. I know people died because he chose me. But Lia's going to torture your brother to death while making him watch me suffer first." Her hand moves to her stomach. "She told me the plan. Three days of breaking Lysander, then she kills me and makes sure he knows the baby died too." The room goes completely silent. "So yeah." Caroline's expression hardens. "Use my father. Get the information. Plan the rescue.

Do whatever the fuck it takes to bring Lysander home alive." Three hours later we're in the war room that used to be Magnus's office, blueprints spread across every surface. Robert provides everything-facility layout that looks like Cold War nightmare architecture, security protocols that update every six hours, guard rotation schedules that show seven-man teams rotating in twelve-hour shifts. It's enough to plan a rescue. Barely. "We need time." Kieran's studying the blueprints with methodical focus that would be impressive if my brother-in-law wasn't currently being tortured.

"Minimum three days to coordinate, gather resources, position our people without alerting Lia's security." "Three days?" My voice comes out strangled. "Lysander has to survive three days in Lia's custody?" "The facility's designed to contain wolves, not kill them quickly." Robert's finger traces corridors on the blueprint. "She'll take her time. Break him slowly. Enjoy it." The image makes bile rise in my throat. "He's strong." Caroline's wrapped in a blanket despite the room being warm, shock settling in properly now. "He'll survive.

He has to." I pull out my phone, thumb hovering over Lysander's contact. The text might not reach him-they probably confiscated his obvious devices. But the emergency phone in his boot, the one he thinks nobody knows about because Kieran told me during pillow talk six months ago? That one might still work. My fingers type before doubt catches up: Hold on. We're coming for you. I promise. The message sends. Shows delivered. Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then appear again. Finally: Tell Caroline I love her. Tell my child their father tried. Tried. Past tense. Present resignation.

He's already giving up. Archer