Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 157 Jan 15, 2026 POV: Thalia Four weeks pass and Lysander has essentially colonized my old apartment. Not officially-he still pays rent on his own place-but his clothes occupy half her closet, his toothbrush lives in her bathroom, and he sleeps in her bed every night like he's been there for years instead of weeks. The triplets call him Lysander still, not Dad, but they accept his presence like he's furniture that's always been there. Phoenix climbs on him without asking permission. Luna shows him her drawings first. Orion asks him for help before asking Mom.

Kieran has gone to a full ice statue. At work, he's professionally civil in that way that feels worse than outright hostility. He doesn't seek me out, doesn't manufacture excuses for proximity. Just exists in the same building like a beautifully dressed ghost haunting the executive floor. I see what this is doing to him. He's lost weight, cheekbones sharper than they should be. Dark circles under his eyes suggest he's operating on caffeine and spite. The ice-king mask he wears has calcified into something permanent, hiding devastation the way expensive suits hide poverty.

Then Friday afternoon detonates everything. The email arrives from Alpha Magnus with all the warmth of a legal summons. Formal language. Commanding tone. There will be a pack dinner Sunday evening. Both his sons are required to attend. And younger Thalia is expected to be there as well-as Lysander's companion. I know what this means. The pack leadership is forcing a public reckoning. Making myself choose in front of everyone who matters, burning bridges she might have wanted to keep. Sunday evening, I dress like she's preparing for battle. Simple black dress, elegant without trying too hard.

Hair down but controlled. Armor disguised as fashion. Lysander picks her up, hand covering hers on the console like he's afraid she might bolt. "It'll be fine," he promises, voice steady. "You're with me. I've got you." But his knuckles are white on the steering wheel. He's terrified and trying not to show it. They arrive at the Fenris estate-a massive stone mansion that screams old money and older power. Pack members are already gathering dozens of high-ranking wolves in formal wear. I recognize the scene from my own timeline when I was presented as Luna. But this is different.

This time she's not Kieran's mate. She's Lysander's girlfriend, which in the pack hierarchy is basically showing up to a wedding in a funeral dress. They walk in together and every conversation dies mid-sentence. Every eye swivels toward them with the subtlety of searchlights. I feel the weight of judgment, speculation, and gossip thick enough to choke on. Kieran is already there, standing near his father like an ice sculpture in Armani. He wears a perfectly tailored suit that probably costs more than my monthly rent. His expression is blank-not cold, not angry, just empty.

Like he's shut down every emotion to survive the next few hours. Alpha Magnus approaches them and the temperature drops ten degrees. He's massive, radiating authority that makes wolves instinctively want to bare their throats. His grey eyes-carbon copies of Kieran's-assess myself with open disapproval. "Ms. Turner," Magnus says. His voice could freeze vodka. "I understand you've chosen to pursue a relationship with my younger son." "Yes, Alpha." I keep her voice steady despite her hands shaking. "And the children you brought back from Portland.

Are they my grandchildren?" The question detonates in the silence. Every pack member within earshot is listening, memorizing this moment for future gossip sessions. "We don't know yet," Lysander answers for her, which would piss me off if I were her. "We haven't done the DNA test." Magnus's expression darkens like storm clouds rolling in. "That test will be done. This week. I want to know which of my sons fathered the triplets from that night eight years ago." It's a command wrapped in silk-covered steel. Lysander's jaw tightens but he nods.

"Understood." Magnus gestures toward the dining room with the kind of authority that doesn't tolerate argument. The formal table stretches long enough to seat twenty. Magnus claims the head. Kieran is positioned to his right-heir apparent. Lysander and I are seated far down the table, a deliberate slight that everyone notices. Dinner is psychological warfare disguised as fine dining. Multiple courses served with painful slowness. Polite conversation that's anything but polite. Pack politics discussed while everyone watches the three of them like they're reality TV.

I see Kieran barely touching his food. See him endure questions about when he'll find a mate, when there will be legitimate heirs, why he's allowing his brother to claim a woman they both fucked during her heat. Kieran deflects every question with surgical precision. "My personal life is my own concern." But I see the cost. His wine glass might shatter from how hard he's gripping it. The muscle jumping in his jaw as he watches Lysander's hand rest possessively on myself's thigh under the table.

After dinner, pack members migrate to the formal parlor for that awkward mingling phase where everyone pretends they're not gossiping. I am approached by several wolves-some curious, some hostile, some offering pity like it's charity. Lia corners her in a quiet alcove and I want to reach through the vision and strangle my sister. That predatory smile on her face promises nothing good. "Well, well," Lia says, voice dripping venom and satisfaction. "The wolfless shame came back and managed to trap an Alpha heir after all. Just not the one you wanted." Myself's spine straightens.

"I'm not discussing this with you." "You wanted Kieran. Everyone knows it. You were pathetic about it in high school." Lia's words are designed to wound, find the soft spots and press hard. "But he's too good for you. Always was. So you settled for his brother. How does it feel, knowing you're second choice to both of them?" The words land like punches. I watch me to try not to react, try to maintain composure while Lia systematically dismantles her confidence. Lysander appears before she can respond. Steps between them, his presence making Lia instinctively back up.

"Walk away," he tells Lia. Quiet voice carrying Alpha command that makes her wolf respond automatically. Lia retreats but the damage is done. I am shaking. "Don't listen to her," Lysander says, pulling my younger self close. "You're not second choice. You're my choice. My only choice." But I see the doubt that's been planted. See myself wondering if she really did settle, if choosing safety over destiny was just cowardice with better marketing. The evening ends badly. As they're leaving, Kieran catches my arm. Lysander has stepped away to get the car.

It's just the two of them in the mansion's entrance hall, alone for the first time in weeks. "I need to know," Kieran says. His voice is rough, stripped of polish. "Do you feel anything for me? Anything at all?" I look at him. Really look at him. And I see the war in her eyes because there IS something there. Not love yet. But recognition. Attraction. Something that could grow into everything if given the chance. But she shakes her head. "It doesn't matter what I feel. I've made my choice." "What if you're choosing wrong?" Kieran's hand tightens on her arm, not hurting but desperate.

"What if we're meant-" "We're not meant for anything." My voice wavers, betraying the certainty she's trying to project. "Let me go, Kieran." He does. Releases her arm and steps back like she burned him. "The DNA test happens Wednesday. Magnus has arranged it. We'll all know the truth then." "Fine," I say. "And when it proves they're mine?" Kieran's voice drops to something raw and broken. "What then?" I see myself not to answer. Just walks out to where Lysander is waiting with the car, leaving Kieran standing alone in that entrance hall. I watch this exchange and want to scream. Yes!

They're yours! The bond is there, waiting to complete! Why can't anyone see it? But the vision continues forward mercilessly. Shows myself lying in Lysander's arms that night, unable to sleep. Shows her staring at the ceiling wondering if Lia was right, if she settled, if comfort is just fear with a prettier name. And shows Kieran in his penthouse, standing at those floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, waiting for Wednesday. Waiting to know if the children are his. Waiting for one last chance to fight for what he's already lost. I know what Wednesday will bring.

The DNA results that proved everything in my timeline, that will prove everything here too. But in this path, instead of bringing them together, the results will tear everything apart. admin