Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 132 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Lysander I wake at 3 AM to find Caroline's side of the bed empty and cold, which either means she's having pregnancy insomnia or she's doing something spectacularly stupid. Given her track record over the past few weeks, I'm betting on the latter. The pack house is quiet except for the kind of creaking that comes from old buildings settling and warriors on night patrol who definitely saw me walking around in boxers but are too professional to comment.

I'm following Caroline's scent through corridors when voices filter from the kitchen-hers and Thalia's, low and intense in that way that means serious conversation instead of midnight snack coordination. I pause in the doorway, staying in shadows, watching my mate sit beside my sister-in-law who's drinking whiskey straight from a bottle that's already half-empty. "Can't sleep?" Caroline's voice is gentle, the kind of careful you use around things that might explode. "Can't stop seeing her face." Thalia takes another pull from the bottle, doesn't bother with the pretense of a glass.

"My sister. My own fucking sister tried to genocide us and I let her walk away with exile instead of execution." "You chose mercy." Caroline's hand settles on Thalia's arm. "That took more strength than killing her would have." "Did it?" Thalia laughs, sharp and bitter. "Or did I just prove I'm still that scared girl who can't stand up to her family? Still letting Lia win even when she's committed actual war crimes?" "You chose who you want to be instead of who she tried to make you." Caroline pauses, and I can see her gathering courage for whatever she's about to confess.

"I need to tell you something. About the exile. I made... arrangements." Thalia's head whips around, whiskey sloshing. "What kind of arrangements?" "Used Robert's contacts, hunter networks that owe him favors from before everything went to hell." Caroline's words come faster now, nervous energy bleeding through. "Set Lia up with a new identity, new location in South America, enough resources to start over properly instead of just dumping her in the woods to die slowly." The silence that follows could suffocate small animals.

"You did what?" Thalia's voice drops to something dangerous, Luna authority bleeding through the drunk exhaustion. "You had no fucking right-" "I know." Caroline doesn't back down, which honestly is why I fell for her in the first place. "I overstepped. Massively. But you deserve not to have your sister's blood on your hands, even indirectly. Exile without resources is just slow execution, and you're better than that." "She tried to kill my children!" Thalia's on her feet now, whiskey bottle abandoned.

"She coordinated with hunters, murdered thirteen pack members, tortured your mate-and you're giving her a fresh start?" "Not because she deserves it." Caroline stands too, meeting Thalia's fury head-on. "Because you do. You deserve to choose mercy without it meaning your sister starves to death in some border town. You deserve that choice to actually mean something." Thalia's hands are shaking, rage and grief and exhausted acceptance warring across her face. "She'll come back. Eventually. She always comes back." "Maybe." Caroline's voice softens.

"But maybe having a chance at a real life, away from all of us, away from the pack dynamics that poisoned her since childhood-maybe she'll choose differently. Maybe distance and time let her become someone who isn't defined by hating you." "You don't know Lia." Thalia collapses back into her chair, fight draining out. "She doesn't choose differently. She chooses revenge. It's all she knows." "Then we deal with it if she returns." Caroline sits beside her again, hand finding Thalia's. "But at least you won't carry the weight of causing her death, even indirectly. Some burdens are too heavy.

I watched my father turn himself in for his crimes-I know what that guilt looks like. You don't need more of it." Thalia's crying now, silent tears that she wipes away with angry swipes. "I hate that you're right. I hate that showing mercy makes me feel weak instead of strong. I hate that part of me wishes I'd just killed her and been done with it." "That's the human part." Caroline pulls her into a hug that Thalia accepts despite usually being allergic to physical comfort from anyone except Kieran. "The part that wants simple solutions to complicated problems.

But you're not just human anymore. You're Luna. That means living with complexity." They sit there for maybe ten minutes, Thalia crying into Caroline's shoulder while my mate makes soothing noises that I'm pretty sure she learned from daytime television. Eventually Thalia pulls away, wipes her face, grabs the whiskey bottle. "Don't tell Kieran about this." She gestures vaguely at her emotional breakdown. "He'll go into protective overdrive and I cannot handle being coddled right now." "Your secret's safe with me." Caroline's smile is soft. "Go sleep.

Morning comes too fast when you're drunk at 3 AM." Thalia leaves through the opposite door, probably heading to find her mate despite claiming she doesn't want coddling. The hypocrisy would be funny if I wasn't currently processing what my pregnant girlfriend just confessed to. I step into the kitchen properly, no longer bothering with stealth. Caroline jumps, hand going to her chest in that dramatic way that suggests I should have announced myself earlier. "How long were you listening?" Her voice is careful, already calculating damage control.

"Long enough." I cross to where she's standing, backing her against the counter with deliberate intent. "That was dangerous. Helping Lia disappear. If she returns-" "Then we deal with it." She meets my eyes without flinching. "But Thalia already lost her parents to exile, lost her sister to hatred, lost her entire childhood to being the family scapegoat. She doesn't need to lose her sister to execution too. Some burdens are too heavy." My hands frame her face, thumbs stroking across cheekbones.

"You're too good for this world." "Lucky I'm pack now." Her smile is soft, genuine, the bubbly exterior backed by steel core that makes her devastating. "You're stuck with me." "Yeah." I kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips with the kind of gentle reverence that feels foreign from someone who's spent thirty years hiding vicious intelligence behind chaotic playboy masks. "I really am." The bond hums between us, stronger every day, impossible to ignore anymore.

Not the explosive recognition Kieran and Thalia had, but steady certainty that she's mine and I'm hers and whatever happens next, we're facing it together. "Come back to bed." I'm already pulling her toward the door. "Pregnancy insomnia is my problem too, which means I get to bore you back to sleep with terrible jokes about contract law." "Your jokes are objectively hilarious." She leans into me, let me support her weight. "But yeah. Bed sounds good." We're halfway up the stairs when she pauses. "Do you think I did the right thing?

Helping Lia?" "I think you did the compassionate thing." My arm tightens around her waist. "Whether it's right or wrong, we'll find out if she returns. But you gave Thalia the gift of not having to wonder what-if. That matters." "Even if it comes back to bite us?" "Even then." Six weeks pass in the kind of routine that feels almost normal after months of chaos. Pack rebuilding, corporate damage control, Caroline's morning sickness evolving into second-trimester glow that makes her absolutely radiant. We're finding rhythm, building something that looks suspiciously like stability.

Then a postcard arrives at the pack house. Plain white card, no return address, postmarked from somewhere in Argentina according to the stamp. Thalia opens it during breakfast while the kids are arguing about whether dinosaurs could beat dragons in aerial combat. One line in Lia's distinctive handwriting, the kind of script that requires fountain pens and pretension: Thank you for the mercy, sister. I won't forget it. Thalia stares at the card for thirty seconds of silence that stretches into eternity.

Then she sets it down carefully, goes back to refereeing the dinosaur debate, doesn't mention it again. But I see her eyes tracking to that postcard throughout breakfast, trying to decode whether it's a promise or a threat. Impossible to tell with Lia. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe just acknowledgment that mercy was given and received, and what happens next is anyone's guess. The postcard sits on the kitchen counter for three days before Thalia finally throws it away. But I notice she takes a photo first, saving evidence of contact just in case.

Just in case Lia chooses revenge over redemption. Just in case mercy turns out to be the biggest mistake we ever made. Just in case. Archer