Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 83 Dec 23, 2025 POV: Lysander Command falls on me like a building collapse-sudden, crushing, completely unavoidable. The pack house is chaos incarnate. Wounded wolves bleeding on surfaces not designed for triage. The pack doctor-Roberts, sixty years old and looks every day of it tonight-is elbow-deep in Kieran's chest cavity trying to extract a bullet that fragmented on impact. "Punctured lung." Roberts doesn't look up from his work. "Missed the heart by maybe an inch. Lucky bastard." Lucky. Right.

My brother's lying there without his wolf, without his mate bond, bleeding internally while some hunter's poison spreads through his system. Real fucking lucky. I force my voice steady. "The dart poison?" "Spreading through his lymphatic system. I've never seen anything like it." Roberts finally meets my eyes and the fear there makes my stomach drop. "Whatever they developed, it's targeting the supernatural specifically. Shutting down pack bonds, mate connections, the wolf itself. He's human until it clears his system." "How long?" "Days.

Maybe weeks." His hands don't stop moving, suturing what he can reach. "Assuming it clears at all." The weight of that settles like concrete. Kieran-my alpha brother, the heir who was always meant to lead-reduced to human and vulnerable while our pack hemorrhages. Someone has to take command. Someone has to hold this together. Guess that's me now. "Status report." I grab Marcus-head of security who looks like he aged ten years in the last hour. "All families accounted for?" "Seven houses hit simultaneously." His voice is parade-ground steady but his hands shake.

"Twelve wounded, three critical. They knew exactly which families to target-all high-ranking, all with Alpha bloodline connections." "Coordinated military operation." I'm already moving toward the door, toward the estate where my father's house burns. "They mapped our hierarchy, planned the hits, executed with precision. This wasn't opportunistic. This was-" "War." Marcus finishes. "Sir, your father-" I'm running before he finishes the sentence. The Fenris estate is three miles through pack lands.

I shift mid-sprint because my wolf is faster and right now speed matters more than arriving dignified. Trees blur past, the pack bond thrumming with distress from every direction-fear, pain, rage compressed into supernatural frequency that makes my skull ache. The estate comes into view and my wolf falters. Flames consume the west wing. The master bedroom-my father's sanctuary, the room where pack Alphas have slept for generations-visible through shattered windows. Smoke billows into pre-dawn darkness. Six bodies in the courtyard. Dead hunters.

My father fought like the warrior he's always been, brought down that many before- Before what? I shift back to human, don't bother with the nakedness because modesty died about three hours ago. The front door hangs off its hinges. Blood trails across marble floors I used to slide down as a kid. "Dad?" My voice echoes through smoke and ruin. A cough from upstairs. Wet, rattling, wrong. I take the stairs three at a time. The master bedroom door is open-blown off by something explosive judging by the scorch marks. My father lies on his bed, chest torn open by claws or bullets or both.

"Lysander." His voice is barely a whisper. "Took you long enough." I'm beside him instantly, hands hovering uselessly because there's too much damage, too much blood, nowhere safe to touch. "Pack doctor's coming. Just hold on-" "Stop." His hand shoots out, grips my wrist with strength that shouldn't exist in someone this injured. "No time for comforting lies." His chest is shredded. I can see bone through meat, see the labored rise and fall of punctured lungs. The pack bond between us flickers-dim, fading, getting ready to sever completely. "They got you too." Not a question.

I smell the chemical residue, see the dart embedded in his shoulder matching the one they pulled from Kieran. "The poison-" "Blocks the wolf." He coughs blood, the spray decorating his ruined sheets. "Days, maybe weeks. Kieran's human until it clears." His eyes find mine, still sharp despite everything failing. "You're Alpha now." The words hit like physical blows. "No. You're going to be fine, we'll get you stabilized, the pack needs-" "The pack needs an Alpha who can lead." His grip tightens, demanding attention. "Not a dying old wolf clinging to power.

Not your brother lying broken without his mate bond." Each word costs him. "You, Lysander. It has to be you." I've spent my entire life being the spare. The backup plan. The brother who got to live his own life because Kieran carried the burden of expectation and duty. Now duty's crushing me beneath its weight and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to hold it. "Protect them." Blood bubbles at the corner of his mouth. "All of them. The pack, your brother, those cubs." His voice drops to barely audible. "And that girl. The white Luna. She's stronger than anyone knows.

Trust her." "Dad-" "Promise me." The Alpha command still works even as he's dying. My wolf rolls over, shows throat, acknowledges authority one last time. "I promise." His grip loosens. The pack bond between us flickers once, twice, goes dark. Alpha Magnus Fenris dies at surrounded by smoke and ruin, leaving me holding a responsibility I never wanted and definitely don't deserve. I don't know how long I stay there. Long enough that the smoke detector's wail becomes background noise. Long enough that my knees start cramping from kneeling beside his bed. Arms wrap around me from behind.

I know her scent before my brain processes presence-vanilla and something sharper, uniquely Caroline. She shouldn't be here. Was supposed to be in San Francisco, supposed to be safe from pack politics and supernatural warfare. "Saw the news." Her voice is quiet against my shoulder blade. "They're calling it gang violence. Local escalation." She pauses. "I drove nine hours straight." I sag into her for three seconds. Just three-letting someone else carry weight I can't hold alone, letting myself be vulnerable in ways Alphas aren't supposed to be.

Then duty yanks me back to rigid spine and steady voice. "I can't do this without you here." The confession tears out before I can stop it. "Then I'm not leaving." Simple. Absolute. No hesitation. I turn in her arms, see exhaustion carved into features too young for this much weight. "It's not safe. They're hunting us, Caroline. Professional military operations targeting pack families." "Then I'll learn to shoot." Her chin lifts with stubborn certainty I recognize from law school debates. "You're pack now, right?

Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack whether you wanted it or not?" The title still feels like borrowed clothes. "Acting Alpha. Until Kieran recovers." "Acting or not, you need people you can trust." Her hands frame my face, forcing me to meet her eyes. "And I'm not going anywhere." Roberts appears in the doorway, face grim. "Sir, we have a situation." Sir. Not Lysander. Not 'the spare heir.' Sir. I'm Alpha now.

The realization crystallizes with awful clarity-Kieran's human and poisoned, my father's dead, the pack is under coordinated attack from hunters who mapped our hierarchy with surgical precision. This isn't temporary. This is my life now. I kiss Caroline once-hard and claiming, grounding myself in something real before drowning in responsibility. "Stay close to me. Don't leave my sight." "Wasn't planning on it." Roberts is still waiting, patient as death. "The situation?" "More families reporting symptoms.

The dart poison-whatever it is-it's spreading to wolves who weren't even hit." His voice is carefully neutral. "Pack bonds are failing across the territory. Wolves are waking up human and disconnected." My blood runs cold. "How many?" "Seventeen so far. Rising every hour." Seventeen wolves stripped of their supernatural connection. Seventeen pack members suddenly vulnerable, human, defenseless against whatever comes next. And I'm supposed to lead them through this. Caroline's hand finds mine, squeezes once. I've got you. "Convene the council." I force authority into voice that wants to crack.

"Emergency protocol. We lockdown the pack lands, coordinate security, figure out what the fuck we're dealing with." Roberts nods, already moving. The pack doctor who delivered me thirty-two years ago now takes orders from the spare heir who never wanted this crown. I look at my father's body-cooling on ruined sheets, the Alpha who held this pack together for forty years now just meat and memory. "I'm sorry, Dad." The words come out hoarse. "I'm going to fuck this up spectacularly." Caroline's arms tighten around me.

"Then we'll fuck it up together." Outside, dawn breaks over pack lands under siege. Somewhere in the chaos, my brother lies poisoned and separated from his mate. Our pack hemorrhages bonds and wolves faster than we can contain. And I'm supposed to be Alpha. God help us all. Archer