Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 125 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Thalia The video arrives at 3 AM because of course it does-Lia's got a flair for dramatic timing that would make theater majors weep with envy. My phone buzzes against the nightstand. Unknown number, video attachment, the kind of notification that makes your stomach drop before your brain catches up to why. I'm fumbling with the screen when Kieran wakes beside me, instantly alert despite it being the dead of night. Alpha training doesn't care about human limitations apparently. The video loads and my world narrows to the nine-inch screen showing my sister's face.

"Hello, sister." Lia's smile could freeze hell. The camera pans to show Orion sitting in a chair, hands zip-tied, face pale but expression set in that serious way he gets when he's terrified but refusing to show it. "Your oldest nephew is remarkably brave. Hasn't cried once." My hands start shaking so hard Kieran has to steady the phone. "Let's see if we can change that." Lia produces a knife from somewhere off-screen, casual as discussing lunch plans. "Every day your Alpha stays captive, one of your children suffers. Not dies-suffering is more effective.

Just small cuts, nothing fatal." She moves closer to Orion, knife catching fluorescent lighting. "But painful. Very painful." The video ends before she touches him. Cuts to black right at the moment of maximum terror, leaving my imagination to fill in the gaps with every horror my brain can conjure. I'm moving before conscious thought catches up. Throwing off covers, grabbing weapons from the safe Kieran installed after the first attacks, loading magazines with hands that won't stop shaking.

"We're going now." My voice sounds detached, clinical, completely divorced from the screaming happening inside my skull. "Fuck the plan. Fuck three days. We're getting him out now." "Thalia-" Kieran's already up, blocking the doorway with his body. "Move." I chamber a round with more violence than necessary. "That's my son. She's going to hurt my son and I'm not waiting three more days while she-" "And if we rush in unprepared, she'll kill all of them." His voice is steel wrapped in something gentle, the combination that usually gets through my defenses. "You know that.

Your legal brain knows that even if your mother brain is screaming." "She's going to hurt him!" The words tear out raw, stripped of every armor I've built. "I know." He moves closer, hands coming up slowly like approaching something feral. "And it's killing me too. But if we storm that facility without reconnaissance, without coordination, without backup-she executes the hostages before we breach the first door." The gun lowers slightly because he's right and I hate that he's right.

Hate that logic matters when my baby is sitting in a chair waiting for someone to carve him up for my sister's entertainment. "We stick to the plan." Kieran's hands settle on my shoulders, grounding. "Forty-eight more hours. Then we end this." "Forty-eight hours is forty-eight opportunities for her to-" I can't finish, can't say the words that make it real. "I know." His forehead presses to mine. "Trust me. Please." The gun goes back in the safe with shaking hands that take three tries to engage the lock.

We end up in what used to be our bedroom before hunters burned it, standing in wreckage that somehow feels appropriate for this conversation. Ash covers everything. The bed frame's half-collapsed, walls scorched black, windows blown out by explosions that should have killed us. We're living in a guest room while repairs happen, but this space still pulls us back when we need privacy from pack members who definitely don't need front-row seats to leadership breaking down. Kieran's hands frame my face with devastating gentleness. "We're going to get them back. All of them.

Orion, Luna, Phoenix, Lysander. And then we're going to end Lia permanently." "How can you be sure?" My voice cracks despite trying to hold it together. "How can you promise that when she's got every advantage, when she's willing to torture children, when she's proven she'll do anything to destroy us?" "Because I'm not losing you or our kids or my brother." His voice drops to something absolutely certain, the kind of conviction that doesn't allow alternatives. "That's not an option on the table. It never was.

It never will be." The bond between us-the one we built through choice instead of biology, through crisis instead of convenience-pulls tight and true. Not the explosive recognition we had with the mate bond, but something steadier. Something we made ourselves from wreckage and determination. I lean into him because standing alone right now feels impossible. His arms wrap around me while I shake apart, while every maternal instinct screams at me to run toward my child regardless of tactical stupidity. "He's nine years old." The words come out muffled against his chest.

"He's supposed to be worried about homework and whether dinosaurs could beat dragons in a fight. Not sitting in a chair waiting for someone to cut him." "I know." Kieran's voice is rough, hands stroking through my hair. "And the second we get him back, we're putting him in therapy so expensive it requires a second mortgage." The absurdity makes something crack in my chest that might be a laugh or might be a sob. "Therapy. Right. Because that fixes childhood trauma from supernatural torture." "Better than nothing." His lips press to my hair.

"And infinitely better than rushing in and getting him killed along with his siblings and uncle." We stand there in the ruins of our bedroom for however long it takes me to stop shaking. Could be five minutes, could be fifty. Time does weird things when your world's actively ending. "Forty-eight hours." I finally pull back enough to meet his eyes. "Then we burn that facility to the ground with her inside it." "Forty-eight hours." He agrees.

"And then we show her exactly what happens to people who threaten our family." The next day and a half blur into tactical planning that would make military strategists weep. Robert provides updated intelligence-guard rotations that just changed, new security protocols Lia implemented after Caroline's infiltration, weak points in the facility's structure that might be exploitable. We're forty-eight hours from go-time when Caroline appears in the war room looking pale but determined, that bubbly exterior stripped away leaving steel underneath.

"I can get inside." She says it without preamble, no building up to it, just dropping the bomb and waiting for explosion. "Give me a wire, a weapon, anything. I'll go in as Robert's daughter, pretend I'm joining their side." "Absolutely not." Kieran's response is immediate, final. "Lia will believe it." Caroline's already thought this through, probably spent hours developing her argument. "I'm human, I'm Robert's, I have reason to hate wolves now that you captured my father and endangered my life. The narrative writes itself." "You're pregnant." I point out the obvious flaw. "And concussed.

And absolutely not trained for undercover operations." "I'm also the only person who can get eyes inside before you raid the facility." Her chin lifts with stubborn determination that reminds me why Lysander fell for her. "You're going in blind otherwise. No real-time intelligence, no confirmation the hostages are where Robert thinks, no warning if Lia changes the plan." "It's too dangerous-" Kieran starts. "It's our only shot." Caroline's voice hardens. "You know it is.

Otherwise you're breaching that facility hoping Robert's intelligence is current, hoping Lia hasn't moved the hostages, hoping your timing is perfect. How many people die if you're wrong?" The question hangs heavy because she's right and we all know it. Going in blind gets people killed. Having someone inside exponentially improves our odds. But that someone being pregnant and human and completely untrained in combat means we're risking two lives for intelligence that might not even matter. I look at Kieran. He looks at me.

The bond pulls tight with shared understanding-this could work or this could get Caroline and her unborn child killed in the most horrific way possible. "She'd have to be convincing." My legal brain is already running scenarios. "One slip, one wrong word, and Lia executes her immediately." "I can act." Caroline's already nodding. "I was president of my sorority, captain of the cheer squad, and president of my law school's moot court program. I know how to perform." "This isn't a performance-" Kieran protests. "Everything's a performance when you're trying to survive." She meets his eyes.

"Let me do this. Let me help get Lysander back." Kieran and I exchange looks that communicate volumes without words. Every instinct screams this is too dangerous, too risky, too many variables we can't control. But she's right about the intelligence gap. Right about needing eyes inside. Right about this being our best shot at a rescue that doesn't end in massacre. "You wear a wire." I'm already planning it, legal mind shifting into tactical coordination. "You check in every two hours. And the second anything feels wrong-" "I abort and extract." Caroline finishes. "I know.

I'm not stupid, just determined." "There's a fine line between those things." Kieran mutters but he's already nodding. "Robert briefs you on facility layout, security protocols, everything. You don't improvise, you follow the script exactly." "When do I go in?" Caroline asks. I check my watch. Forty-six hours until the planned assault. "Tomorrow morning. Gives you twenty-four hours inside before we breach." Twenty-four hours for everything to go catastrophically wrong. Sometimes there are no good choices. Just varying degrees of terrible and hoping you picked the least fatal option. Archer