Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 179 Jan 15, 2026 POV: Thalia Magnus summons her to his study three days after the forced claiming and I watch her walk in with the enthusiasm of someone heading to their own execution. She sits across from him wearing yesterday's clothes, hair pulled back in a messy knot that screams I've given up on trying . "You begin formal Luna training tomorrow," Magnus says without preamble. His voice carries that Alpha command that doesn't acknowledge the possibility of refusal. "Pack politics, female pack leadership, dispute mediation, hosting protocols.

Everything you need to properly fulfill your role." She just nods. Doesn't argue, doesn't protest. Just accepts it with the same mechanical compliance she's applied to everything since the bond forced itself into existence. I recognize that look. It's the same expression I wore for two years in high school when I'd given up fighting and just survived. When you stop caring enough to resist, you just become a breathing corpse going through motions. The training is brutal and she's spectacularly bad at it.

I watch her sit through sessions on pack hierarchy looking like she's calculating how many glasses of wine it'll take to forget this day. The elder females teaching her-experienced Lunas from allied packs-exchange concerned glances when she responds to their questions with flat, disinterested answers. "When mediating disputes between pack families, you must balance tradition with fairness," one elder explains. "Sure," she says. Not engaged, not considering the nuance. Just words filling space. In my timeline, I devoured this information.

Asked questions, challenged assumptions, found ways to make ancient traditions serve modern needs. Built authority through genuine care and strategic thinking that made wolves respect me before they loved me. This younger Thalia doesn't care about any of it. She's a puppet going through choreographed movements, hitting marks without understanding the dance. The pack notices immediately because wolves smell weakness like sharks smell blood. I watch a dispute between two Beta families land on her desk. Property boundaries, territorial rights, the kind of politics that require careful diplomacy.

She renders judgment in five minutes without listening to both sides properly, makes a ruling that technically follows pack law but pisses off both families equally. In my timeline, I would have spent hours researching precedent, talking to both families privately, finding a solution that left everyone feeling heard even if they didn't get everything they wanted. Here, she just wants it gone. Problem solved means problem forgotten, which isn't how leadership works. Council meetings are worse. She sits at Kieran's right hand-the Luna's traditional position-and contributes nothing.

When asked her opinion on pack decisions, she defers to Kieran with mechanical consistency. "Whatever you think is best," she says. Over and over. A mantra of abdication. I see Marcus lean toward another council member, voice low but not low enough. "The white Luna earned her authority. This one just exists in the role." The comparison stings even though I'm just a ghost watching. Because he's right. I fought for every scrap of respect, proved myself through action and care. This version of me is coasting on biological accident, and everyone can tell.

Two weeks in, I watch Magnus call an emergency session with senior council members. The woman they're discussing isn't invited-which tells you everything about how badly this is going. "The Luna is ineffective," Catherine says bluntly. She's never been one for diplomatic language. "She makes no effort to connect with pack members, shows no interest in their welfare, performs duties mechanically without passion." "The mate bond was meant to strengthen pack leadership," another elder adds.

"Instead we have a Luna who resents her position and a fractured pack questioning if biology can be wrong." Magnus's jaw clenches. "The bond chose. We cannot undo what's written in blood." "Perhaps," Marcus says carefully, "the bond chose correctly but the timing was wrong. She needed more time to choose freely. Now we have a Luna who feels trapped, and trapped animals don't lead-they just survive." I watch Magnus absorb this and see something crack in his expression. He forced this. Demanded the claiming happen immediately. And now the pack is paying the price for his impatience.

Lia, of course, fans these flames with the enthusiasm of an arsonist at a gas station. She corners younger Thalia after a particularly disastrous pack gathering where she barely spoke to anyone. "Everyone's talking about how you're the worst Luna in Fenris history," Lia says with malicious joy. "Even the white Luna-who they all hated at first-earned their respect. You? You're just the consolation prize Kieran settled for." The target of this venom doesn't even flinch. Just walks away. But I see the words land, see them confirm what she already believes about herself.

That night, I watch her overhear a conversation she wasn't meant to hear. Two Beta females in the pack house bathroom, voices echoing off tile while she stands frozen in a stall. "She's not even trying. Just going through motions." "Can you blame her? The bond forced her into this. She wanted Lysander, got stuck with Kieran instead." "Still. She's Luna now. That means something. Or it should." "Does it though? When everyone knows she'd rather be anywhere else?" She waits until they leave before exiting the stall. Her reflection in the mirror looks hollow.

Ghost of a person wearing someone else's life. She's shutting down completely. I recognize the signs because I lived through it once-that systematic emotional retreat where you preserve your sanity by feeling nothing at all. Survival mode that keeps you breathing but kills everything that makes you actually alive. Kieran tries to help. I watch him attempt support, encouragement, gentle coaching about how to handle pack politics. He brings her flowers after particularly bad days. Makes her favorite meals. Stays patient when she responds with mechanical thank-yous that carry no real warmth.

But I see him realizing what he's actually won. One night, three weeks into this disaster, I watch him stand in their bedroom while she sleeps. Just staring at her with an expression that makes my chest ache. He's getting everything he wanted-his mate, his children, his family-and it's destroying him. Because she doesn't want any of it. Not really. The bond forces her to stay, to accept his touch, to play the role. But her heart isn't in it. She's a beautiful corpse animated by biological compulsion. He whispers to her sleeping form and I strain to hear. "This isn't what I wanted.

Not like this." The admission cracks something in me because he's finally understanding what I've been screaming at this vision for weeks. Winning isn't victory if you have to destroy what you wanted in the process of claiming it. The next morning, I watch younger Thalia go through her Luna duties with the same mechanical efficiency. Greeting pack members she doesn't recognize. Making decisions she doesn't care about. Existing in a role she never wanted, bound by biology to a man she chose to refuse.

And I watch Kieran watch her, his victory turning to ash in his mouth with every hollow smile she gives pack members. Every emotionless decision she renders. Every moment she goes through motions without actually being present. In my timeline, I became Luna through fire and choice. Earned every scrap of authority through genuine care and strategic thinking that made wolves respect me before they loved me. This younger Thalia is just a ghost haunting the position. Present but not really there. And the pack is starting to wonder if a mate bond can be wrong if it creates this kind of hollowness.

If biology chose correctly but destroyed what it was trying to protect in the claiming. I watch her mechanically plan the next pack gathering and know with bone-deep certainty that something has to break soon. Either she'll shatter completely or the bond will. But this half-life existence can't continue indefinitely. Nobody survives being a ghost in their own life forever. Eventually, the hollow wins or you do. And right now, watching her vacant eyes as she goes through Luna training exercises, I'm not sure which outcome would be worse. admin