Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 177 Jan 15, 2026 POV: Thalia The pack accepts the completed mate bond with all the enthusiasm of people watching a car crash resolve itself through insurance claims. Technically fine, practically messy, emotionally complicated enough that nobody's sure how to feel about it. Most wolves fall into the "biological bonds trump personal choice" camp because pack tradition is basically biological determinism with fancy rituals. The mate bond completed, destiny claimed its victory, everything is as it should be. But a faction emerges that can't forgive how she handled this disaster.

Can't forget she chose Lysander first, that she required pack intervention and near-death to accept her destined mate, that she treated Kieran with dismissive cruelty. They whisper at pack functions with vicious politeness that makes direct insults look amateur. Hushed conversations that stop when she approaches, eyes that track her movements with judgment thick enough to choke on. "She's not fit to be Luna." Beta Marcus says it to another elder, voice pitched just loud enough to carry.

"Judgment that flawed doesn't belong in leadership." "She fought her place here for months." Another voice, female. "Made a mockery of pack tradition, destabilized our entire hierarchy." "Poor Kieran. Stuck with a mate who doesn't even love him." The words land like precision strikes, designed to wound without providing clear targets for retaliation. Can't argue with whispers. Can't defend against concerns wrapped in fake sympathy. Lia leads this faction with vicious efficiency usually reserved for political campaigns.

She's found her calling in character assassination disguised as concern, weaponizing it with surgical precision. Tuesday's pack gathering, Lia corners high-ranking females near the wine table. Her voice carries just enough. "I'm just worried about Kieran, you know? Being bonded to someone who resents him must be devastating." "She chose his brother first," one woman says, leaning in for gossip. "That has to damage a mate bond." "And those children." Lia's face arranges itself into manufactured sympathy. "Imagine growing up with a mother that unstable.

One day with Lysander, next day bonded to Kieran." "The pack needs stronger leadership," Lia says, dropping the words carefully. "A Luna who embraces her position instead of being forced into it." The implication is nuclear-Lia herself would have been that willing, eager Luna. I watch this poison spread through the pack social structure with viral efficiency. One conversation becomes three becomes twelve, each iteration adding new details until her catastrophically messy path to accepting the mate bond becomes definitive proof she's unfit for Luna status.

Friday's council meeting showcases the isolation in brutal clarity. She presents her proposal for updating pack education protocols-solid ideas, well-researched, progressive thinking that would benefit everyone. Beta Marcus cuts her off mid-sentence. "Perhaps we should table this discussion until Luna has more experience with actual pack traditions before suggesting we dismantle them." "I'm not suggesting dismantling-" she starts. "Your judgment on pack matters has been questionable at best," another council member interrupts.

"Given recent history, maybe established leadership should handle education decisions." The dismissal is absolute. She's been Luna for six weeks, has brilliant ideas nobody will listen to because they've decided her resistance to the mate bond proves she lacks judgment about everything. Kieran's jaw clenches. "Her ideas have merit. We should at least discuss-" "Of course you'd defend her," Marcus says with that patronizing tone. "Mate bonds create bias. But the council needs objectivity." Objectivity .

Code for "we've decided she's incompetent and will dismiss anything she suggests regardless of merit." The meeting continues with her proposals ignored, her input dismissed, her presence tolerated but not respected. She sits there taking it, face carefully neutral, but I see her hands clenching under the table. After, in the hallway, she finds the women's restroom where pack females usually gather for post-meeting gossip. The conversation dies the second she walks in. Four women who were laughing together suddenly find their phones fascinating. "Don't stop on my account," she says.

Voice light but eyes hard. "We were just leaving." One woman practically runs for the exit. The others follow in rapid succession, leaving her alone in a bathroom that smells like expensive perfume and social rejection. She stares at her reflection-Luna who isn't wanted, mate who isn't loved, woman who fought destiny and lost but somehow still ended up with the consequences. Social isolation at pack functions becomes the new normal. Other women refuse to include her in their clusters, conversations pausing when she approaches, invitations mysteriously lost.

The message is clear: you're not one of us because real Lunas choose their mates willingly instead of requiring biological intervention. Magnus watches it happen and does absolutely nothing. Because he agrees with the judgment even if he won't say it publicly. She brought this on herself by denying destiny for months, by requiring pack intervention to save her from her own stubborn stupidity. Kieran defends her publicly with aggressive protectiveness that would be sweet if it wasn't making things worse.

Every time someone dismisses her, he steps in with Alpha authority that silences criticism but doesn't change minds. "She's my mate," he says during one particularly brutal council session. "Questioning her is questioning me. I suggest you reconsider." The room goes silent because threatening an Alpha heir's mate is political suicide. But I see the resentment building, the way pack members exchange glances that say if your mate was actually worthy, you wouldn't need to defend her constantly .

Saturday evening, there's a pack dinner that she attends on Kieran's arm wearing a smile that looks painted on. They present their united front-mate bond complete, family intact, everything perfect on the surface. Lia appears in that red dress she wears when drawing blood, positioning herself near enough to watch the show. Thalia is attempting conversation with younger pack females when Lia's voice cuts through. "Thalia, darling, you look exhausted." Concern drips like venom. "Being Luna is demanding work, isn't it?

Especially when you're still adjusting to pack life." "I'm managing fine," she says. Her smile could cut glass. "Of course." Lia's eyes sparkle with malice. "Though some of us were born to this role. Natural leadership versus..." she pauses delicately, "learned behavior." The other women shift uncomfortably. Nobody wants to be caught between Luna and the woman who clearly wants that title. "Natural leadership," Thalia repeats. Voice dropping to something dangerous. "You mean the kind that involves manipulating teenage girls into believing they're worthless?" Lia's smile doesn't falter.

"Ancient history. We've all grown so much since high school. Though some personal growth happens through choice, and some through biological coercion." The accusation lands like a grenade. Everyone within earshot heard it-Luna was forced into her position through mate bond intervention instead of choosing it willingly. Kieran appears before she can respond, his presence immediately shifting the power dynamic. "Lia. Enjoying the evening?" "Immensely." Lia's smile turns predatory.

"Just catching up with your lovely mate." "She's adjusting perfectly." Kieran's arm settles around her waist, possessive and protective. "Perhaps you could focus on your own life instead of critiquing hers." "Just friendly concern." Lia's voice stays sweet. "After all, we all want what's best for the pack. Strong leadership requires strong Luna. I'm sure everyone agrees." She walks away leaving that poison hovering in the air. The other women disperse quickly, suddenly remembering they need drinks or literally anything that removes them from ground zero.

She stands there in Kieran's protective embrace, surrounded by pack members who've decided she'll never measure up, and I watch her face as understanding crystallizes with brutal clarity. She'll never be fully accepted as Luna. Not because she's incompetent or weak. But because she didn't choose this willingly, didn't embrace her destiny with gratitude, didn't perform enthusiasm about being biologically forced into a life she didn't want. The pack has judged her and found her wanting.

And no amount of time, no amount of trying, no amount of Kieran defending her will change that fundamental rejection. She chose wrong. Then biology chose for her. And now she gets to live with both consequences-trapped in a mate bond she didn't want, rejected by a pack who won't forgive her for resisting. Some victories really are just losing in slow motion with better lighting. admin