Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 128 Dec 26, 2025 POV: Lysander Leading a tactical assault while your body's still recovering from three days of silver burns and psychological torture is exactly as fun as it sounds. Which is to say, not at all, but I'm the fucking Alpha and that means dragging my half-dead ass upstairs regardless of whether it's smart. The bond with Caroline hums beneath my ribs, constant reminder she's alive and close and absolutely insane for infiltrating this facility while pregnant.

But that's a crisis for after we rescue three children currently being held at gunpoint by someone who's clearly graduated from "petty revenge" to "full psychotic break." We clear rooms systematically-Marcus on point, warriors flanking, mercs falling back toward Lia's position with the kind of coordinated retreat that says they know they're losing. Bodies litter corridors we've already cleared, hunters and wolves mixed together in the kind of carnage that would make Geneva Convention lawyers weep. The door materializes at the end of the hallway.

Steel reinforced, industrial lock that probably requires codes we don't have, small window showing exactly what nightmare we're walking into. Through the glass I see my niece and nephews huddled together on the floor. Orion's got his arms around his sisters, seven-year-old face set in that serious expression that's pure Kieran, trying to be brave despite being absolutely terrified. Luna's crying silently, tears streaming down her cheeks, probably drowning in everyone's fear through empathic abilities that won't fucking turn off. Phoenix is the youngest but she looks furious instead of scared.

Small hands clenched into fists, already calculating how to fight despite being outmatched by someone three times her size with a gun. That's Thalia's genetics right there. Refuses to break even when breaking would be smarter. Lia stands over them with weapon casual in her grip, barrel currently pressed against Phoenix's temple. Using the youngest as a shield, the smallest target, the one whose death would destroy Thalia most effectively. My wolf rises with murder in every cell but Thalia's already moving past me, white fur bristling, maternal rage that makes my Alpha instincts look tame.

Kieran catches her before she can do something heroically stupid that gets children killed. "Anyone comes through this door, I start shooting." Lia's voice carries through steel, theatrical and absolutely unhinged. "Luna first. Then the boy. Save the empath for last-she'll feel them die and that's so much better." She's smiling. Actually fucking smiling while describing how she'll execute children. This isn't about pack politics anymore. Isn't about the engagement that never happened or the Luna position she thought she deserved.

This is just hate in its purest form, distilled down to wanting Thalia destroyed regardless of collateral damage. "We breach, she starts shooting." Marcus states the obvious problem. "Even with supernatural speed, we can't cross that room before she pulls the trigger." "Tranquilizer?" One of the warriors suggests. "Through steel door?" Kieran's already analyzing angles. "We'd need line of sight, clear shot, and even then the sound alerts her before the dart lands." My brain's cycling through scenarios with vicious intelligence that used to hide beneath chaotic playboy masks.

Every option ends with dead children or dead Lia or most likely both, and none of that is acceptable. Caroline's hand grabs my arm before I can suggest something desperate and stupid. "There's another way." I turn to look at her and she's got that expression, the one that says she's already committed to a plan that will absolutely give me a stroke. "Ventilation system. I used it before to reach your cell. Leads directly into that room." "Absolutely not." The words come out flat, final, leaving zero room for negotiation.

"I can get in, distract her while you breach." She's already mentally mapping routes, probably visualizing ventilation shafts with the same focus she uses for contract law. "She won't expect me-thinks I'm on her side, thinks I'm just Robert's daughter playing human." "You're pregnant." My hands frame her face because touching her is the only thing keeping me from completely losing my shit. "And concussed. And absolutely not trained for tactical operations." "You have a better idea?" She meets my eyes with steel underneath the bubbly exterior. "Because I'm listening.

What's your plan that doesn't end with three children dead?" The bond screams at me not to let her risk herself, to find literally any alternative that doesn't involve my pregnant mate crawling through ventilation shafts into rooms with armed psychopaths. Every Alpha instinct demands I protect her, keep her safe, lock her somewhere secure until this is over. But she's right. We have no other play. Breaching that door gets children killed. Waiting means Lia executes them anyway. Caroline infiltrating from an angle Lia can't predict is the only scenario where we all walk out alive.

Trusting your mate to be strong enough, brave enough, capable enough when every cell in your body screams to wrap them in protective custody-that's what this bond actually means. Not just the biological pull, the supernatural recognition. The choice to believe they're powerful even when you're terrified they're breakable. "I love you." The words come out quiet, stripped of every mask, every deflection. "If this goes wrong-" "It won't." She's already moving toward the ventilation access, that cheerleader confidence that used to seem naive now reading as absolutely feral determination.

"I didn't survive law school and morning sickness simultaneously to die in a hunter facility. Bad optics." "Caroline-" "Two minutes. Get in position." She's pulling the vent cover off with hands that shake slightly but don't hesitate. "When I distract her, you breach hard and fast. Don't wait for confirmation, don't second-guess.

Just move." She climbs into darkness before I can argue, before I can pull her back, before I can do anything except watch my pregnant mate disappear into ventilation shafts that could collapse or lead to wrong rooms or get her killed in approximately seventeen different ways. The pack positions around the door. Thalia's shifted back to human, naked and covered in blood, expression holding nothing but maternal murder. Kieran's got explosive charges ready to blow the lock. Warriors are primed to flood the room the second breach happens. We wait. Two minutes.

Longest two minutes of my entire fucking life. Longer than three days in captivity, longer than eight years thinking Thalia had vanished, longer than any board meeting or corporate negotiation or pack politics disaster. Just two minutes of my mate crawling through ventilation toward someone who's already proven she'll torture children without hesitation. The bond hums steady-Caroline's alive, moving, getting closer to that room. I track her progress through supernatural senses that confirm location without explaining how the fuck she's managing to navigate a ventilation system while pregnant.

Then her voice cuts through the steel door, slightly muffled but unmistakable. "Lia, can we talk? About Robert, about everything?" The gun moves. Just slightly, barrel shifting away from Phoenix's head as Lia turns toward the unexpected sound. Moment of distraction, half a second where her attention diverts from the door to the ceiling vent where Caroline's voice originated. "Breach. NOW." Kieran's charges detonate with sound that makes my ears ring. The door blows inward in a shower of steel fragments.

Pack warriors flood through the opening moving with supernatural speed while Lia's still processing what the fuck is happening. Everything happens at once-Caroline dropping from the ceiling vent, Thalia's white wolf crossing the room in a blur, Kieran diving to cover the children with his body. Lia's gun tracking targets, trying to calculate fastest way to inflict maximum damage before we take her down. The barrel swings toward Luna.

And I'm moving, bone-tired and silver-burned and absolutely done with this psychotic bitch threatening my family, crossing the distance before conscious thought catches up. The gun fires. Archer