Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 124 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Lysander Lia visits twice a day with the kind of punctuality that would make corporate middle management weep with joy. Ten AM and six PM, never deviating, bringing psychological warfare disguised as casual conversation. She doesn't touch me. Doesn't need to. Turns out the most effective torture doesn't require tools when you can just weaponize words instead. "Your pack is falling apart without you." Day one, morning session, delivered with the casual cruelty of someone discussing weather patterns. "The lower families are abandoning the territory.

Too scared to stay, too smart to believe your brother can protect them." I'm sitting against the far wall of my cell, silver bars burning whenever I shift wrong, trying to look less destroyed than I feel. "Kieran's more than capable." "Kieran's playing Alpha but nobody respects him." She examines her nails with performative boredom. "Hard to command supernatural beings when you're just tragically human. The warriors ignore him, the elders undermine him, and the civilians are already packing their shit." The words are designed to crack me open.

Make me doubt, make me desperate, make me vulnerable to whatever she's actually planning beneath the mind games. I don't give her the satisfaction of a response. Evening session brings escalation. "And Caroline-" She pauses with theatrical timing that would be impressive if I wasn't currently caged and furious. "Caroline's staying with your enemies now. Sleeping in Robert's home, accepting his protection, his comfort. Makes you wonder, doesn't it? Where her loyalties actually lie?" My hands clench but I keep my expression neutral.

"The bond doesn't lie." "The bond." She laughs sharp enough to draw blood. "You're putting faith in supernatural bullshit while your mate's cozying up to the man who helped capture you. How romantic. How delusional." I don't believe it. Can't believe it. The bond tells me Caroline's alive, upset, terrified but present. Not far-definitely closer than Lia thinks, which suggests she's somewhere in this facility or near enough that distance doesn't matter. Day two brings more elaborate lies. "Kieran's already planning to take your position permanently.

Told the council you're too compromised to lead even if you survive. And Caroline? She visited her father this morning. Long conversation about 'protecting the family legacy' and 'making difficult choices.' Sound familiar?" "You're trying too hard." My voice comes out rougher than intended, three days of minimal water doing their work. "If any of that was true, you'd be enjoying it instead of desperately trying to convince me." Her smile goes cold. "Believe what you want. Won't change reality when you're still rotting here in three weeks." She leaves and silence becomes its own torture.

No windows, no clock, just fluorescent lighting that never changes and the bond humming with information I can barely process through exhaustion. Caroline's heartbeat. Steady, present, closer than yesterday. The secondary pulse that confirms our child exists, growing despite everything trying to kill them both. That's enough. Has to be enough. Night two, I wake to scratching sounds outside my cell. Subtle, methodical, definitely not guards doing their rounds. My body tenses automatically despite silver chains limiting movement. Then Caroline's voice cuts through darkness, barely a whisper.

"Lysander?" My heart stops. Restarts. Does some complicated rhythm that probably requires medical attention. "Caroline? How-" "Climbed the ventilation system." Her face appears through the bars, illuminated by emergency lighting that casts everything in horror movie shadows. "Robert showed me the plans. I can't get you out but I needed-" She's crying, tears streaming down her face while she grips the bars hard enough her knuckles go white. "I needed to see you." I'm moving before conscious thought catches up, crossing the cell to press my hand through bars that burn but I don't give a fuck.

Her hand finds mine and the bond flares bright enough to make my vision swim. Touch. Connection. Proof she's real and here and absolutely insane for crawling through ventilation shafts while pregnant and concussed. "The baby-" The words choke out desperate. "I know. I figured it out." Her grip tightens, anchoring us both. "I'm pregnant. Eight weeks. I was going to tell you over dinner at that Italian place you love, not while you're caged in a torture facility." "Lia told me. Used it as leverage." My thumb strokes across her knuckles, memorizing the feel of her skin.

"Threatened to-" "Of course she did." Caroline's voice hardens beneath the tears. "She's a psychotic bitch who gets off on hurting people. But she's not winning this." "We're getting you out." She shifts closer, pressing against the bars despite silver proximity that has to hurt. "Three more days. Can you last?" The question hits different than it should. Three days of Lia's psychological warfare, three days of wondering if the pack's actually falling apart, three days of being helpless while pregnant Caroline risks everything. "For you?

For our child?" My forehead presses against cold metal between us. "I'd last forever." We sit there, hands linked through silver bars that burn and separate but can't break the bond humming between us. Maybe ten minutes, maybe thirty-time does weird things when you're touching your mate for the first time in three days of hell. "I love you." The words spill out rough, unfiltered, stripped of the chaotic playboy mask I've worn for thirty years. "Whatever happens, whatever Lia does, I need you to know-" "Don't." Caroline's free hand reaches through, touches my face with devastating gentleness.

"Don't do goodbye speeches. We're getting you out, raising this baby together, and living long enough to embarrass them at their high school graduation." Noise echoes from somewhere above. Heavy footsteps, guard rotation changing shifts, the mechanical sounds of security protocols doing their work. "I have to go." She's already pulling away, the loss of contact making the bond scream protest. "Three days. Hold on for three days." "Go." My voice barely works. "Stay safe. Stay alive.

That's all that matters." She vanishes back into ventilation darkness, leaving me with her scent and the memory of her touch and hope that feels more dangerous than any torture Lia could devise. Hope means something to lose. Means caring about outcomes instead of just surviving moment to moment. Means I'm vulnerable in ways that have nothing to do with silver chains. Morning brings Lia earlier than usual, expression twisted with something that looks suspiciously like rage barely controlled.

"Someone compromised the ventilation." She's examining her phone, security footage probably, tracking Caroline's infiltration with the kind of methodical analysis that says she's pissed. "Interesting. Very interesting." My blood turns ice cold. "Fine." She looks at me through the bars, smile absolutely demonic. "You want to play games? Let's play." She pulls out her radio with deliberate slowness, finger hovering over the button. "Bring me one of the hostages. The oldest one." My chest constricts. "What hostages? You released them-" "Did I?" Her laugh could strip paint. "Did I really?

Or did I just make you think that while keeping insurance in case your brother did something stupid?" The radio crackles. "Which hostage, ma'am?" "The oldest child." Lia doesn't break eye contact with me. "Time for your brother to learn what happens when he doesn't cooperate." Orion. She's calling for Orion. My nephew, nine years old, serious face and endless questions, who doesn't deserve any of this. "Wait-" My voice cracks. "Don't. He's a child, he's innocent-" "So was I when your Luna took everything from me." The radio clicks. "Bring him here. Now." Archer