Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 50 Dec 26, 2025 POV: Lysander Friday morning I walk into the office running on three hours sleep and spite. Spent the night replaying dinner-Magnus's accusations, Robert's threats, Caroline's face when her father implied she'd unconsciously manipulated me. My phone buzzed approximately seventeen times. Caroline texting apologies she doesn't need to make. Magnus sending flight details for Seattle next Friday like my attendance is fait accompli. Kieran asking what the fuck is going on because Magnus apparently called him immediately after dropping me off. I ignored all of it.

Went to bed. Stared at the ceiling. Got up at dawn and came to the office because my apartment feels haunted by Claire's ghost dinner and Magnus's judgments. Claire's already here. I see her through my office glass before I even reach my door. She's at her desk wearing a dress I've never seen-emerald green, fitted, showing exactly enough to be professional but memorable. Her hair is down. Makeup precise. Heels that add three inches and probably cost more than she usually spends on footwear. She catches me staring. Smiles slow and deliberate. Fuck. I unlock my office.

She follows without waiting for invitation. Closes the door behind her with a soft click that feels deliberately intimate. "Good morning," she says. Voice lower than usual. Warmer. "Morning." I set down my coffee, try not to notice how the dress accentuates everything I've been trying not to notice for eighteen months. "You're here early." "Wanted to catch you before meetings start." She perches on the edge of my desk-familiar territory we've occupied hundreds of times, except this time her body language is completely different. Open. Inviting.

"How was dinner?" "Complicated." I'm moving toward my chair, creating distance she immediately closes by standing. "Complicated how?" She's between me and the desk now. Physical proximity I can't escape without being obvious. "Did you resolve the Montgomery situation?" "Not exactly." My hands find my pockets because keeping them neutral requires active effort. "Robert Montgomery knows things he shouldn't. Caroline's confused. Magnus is pissed. Standard family disaster." "And you?" She steps closer. Just slightly.

Just enough that I catch her perfume-different from usual, something with more heat. "How are you?" "Processing." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "You've been processing a lot lately." Her hand touches my arm. Light contact that shouldn't register but absolutely does. "Maybe you need a distraction." Every alarm bell I have starts screaming. "Claire-" "I've been thinking." She's looking up at me with eyes that are simultaneously familiar and foreign. "About us. About what we had before everything got complicated with Caroline." "What we had was comfortable." I should move.

Should create physical distance. Should absolutely not be having this conversation while she's standing this close wearing that dress. "But we both know it wasn't enough." "Wasn't it though?" Her fingers trace up my arm with deliberate slowness. "Eighteen months of good sex, easy companionship, knowing each other's rhythms. That's not nothing." "It's not everything either." "But it's available." She's against me now, hands sliding up my chest. "Right here. Right now.

Without the complications of corporate warfare or your father's disapproval." My body is responding in ways my brain hasn't authorized. Eighteen months of muscle memory activating despite every logical reason this is a terrible idea. "You broke up with me Wednesday," I manage. "Walked out. Said I never saw you." "I was angry." Her hands reach my collar. Start unbuttoning with practiced efficiency. "Hurt. But I've had time to think. Maybe I was too quick to end something good because of someone you barely know." She's kissing my neck now.

Teeth grazing that spot she's always known makes me lose coherent thought. My hands find her waist without conscious decision. Eighteen months of conditioning making my body remember what my mind keeps questioning. "Claire." I try for firm boundaries while my physiology is voting opposite. "This isn't-we can't just-" "Can't we?" She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. "You said yourself. We're done. No relationship. No expectations." Her smile is dangerous. "But that doesn't mean we stop knowing how to make each other feel good." Fuck.

She's propositioning casual sex while wearing that dress and using every technique she's learned to make me stop thinking. "This is a bad idea." But my hands are still on her waist. Still holding instead of pushing away. "Most good things are." She's kissing along my jaw now. Working toward my mouth with deliberate patience. "We were good at this. Really good. Why throw that away because you're chasing something impossible?" The word impossible lands wrong. Makes me think about Caroline. About bonds that shouldn't exist. About my wolf perking up every time her texts arrive. I pull back.

Create the physical distance I should have established from the start. "I can't." Claire's face does something complicated. "Can't or won't?" "Both." I button my shirt with shaking hands. "You deserve better than being my fallback when the impossible gets too complicated." "Maybe I don't care about deserving better." Her voice goes quiet. "Maybe I just want you. However I can have you." The offer should be tempting. Easy sex with someone I know. No complications beyond what we make. Proof that what I feel for Caroline isn't real, just projection. But my wolf is completely silent.

Not interested. Not engaged. Waiting for someone else. "I'm sorry," I say, and mean it. "You deserve someone who chooses you first. Not second. Not as backup plan." "And you think Caroline will choose you?" She's gathering her composure with visible effort. Professional mask sliding back into place. "You heard her father. They know what you are. You really think a human woman is going to accept that?" The question hits harder than intended because I've been thinking the same thing. How do I explain pack dynamics to someone who doesn't believe in magic?

How do I make Caroline understand I'm a wolf without proving I'm a monster? "I don't know," I admit. "But you're going to try anyway." Not a question. Statement of fact delivered with resignation. "Even though it means losing me for real this time." "Claire-" "No." She holds up a hand. "I tried. One last attempt at reminding you what we had. But I can see it in your face. You're already gone." Her voice cracks slightly. "You've been gone since Sunday's collision." She's at the door when she looks back. "For what it's worth? I hope she's worth it. Worth destroying something stable.

Worth choosing impossible over comfortable." She leaves and I'm alone in my office with the wreckage of Friday morning and absolutely no idea whether Caroline's worth it or if I'm just fundamentally incapable of choosing stability. My phone buzzes. Text from Caroline: How are you? After last night? I stare at it. At her checking on me while her father's declaring corporate war. At the genuine concern wrapped in three simple words. Archer