Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 85 Dec 18, 2025 POV: Lysander I'm standing where my father used to stand-at the head of the pack council room, behind a podium that still smells like his cologne-and the wrongness of it lodges in my throat like broken glass. Three days. Magnus held on for three days after the poison stopped responding to treatment, his wolf silent, his body shutting down one system at a time. We buried him yesterday with full Alpha honors, the kind of funeral that takes six hours and leaves everyone emotionally gutted. I didn't cry during the ceremony.

Kept my spine straight, my expression neutral, Alpha mask firmly in place while two hundred wolves paid their respects to a man who never expected to leave me in charge. Then I got in my car afterward-alone, finally alone-and the reality hit that my father was actually gone. That the man who terrified and inspired me in equal measure would never give me shit about my love life again, would never begrudgingly approve my decisions, would never be there to catch me when I inevitably fucked this up. I cried like a kid.

Ugly, snotty, the kind of breakdown that would've made him roll his eyes and tell me to pull myself together. Now I have to convince two hundred wolves that the spare heir who never wanted this job can actually lead them through whatever fresh hell is coming next. The council room is packed. Standing room only, bodies pressed against walls, tension so thick I could bottle it and sell it as anxiety medication. Half the faces watching me are openly skeptical-arms crossed, expressions carved from ice, clearly thinking this is a mistake.

The other half look terrified-wide eyes, shallow breathing, desperately wanting someone to tell them everything's going to be fine. A third faction clusters near the front. Beta families, mostly. Old guard who think Kieran should still be Alpha despite being human, despite the mate bond failure, because he's the firstborn and Magnus trained him for this since birth. "Thank you all for coming." My voice echoes weird in the space, too loud and not authoritative enough. "I know this is irregular.

I know I'm not who any of you expected to be standing here." "That's an understatement," someone mutters from the middle rows. Marcus-head of security and the only reason we haven't descended into complete chaos-shoots the speaker a look that could strip paint. The muttering stops. "The poison the hunters used is still active in seventeen of our wolves." I force myself to meet eyes, to project confidence I absolutely don't feel. "Kieran and Magnus included. We don't know how long it lasts or if it's permanent.

What we do know is that we're under coordinated attack by people with military training and resources." "So what's the plan?" Catherine-elder, sixty years of pack politics under her belt-asks with the kind of skeptical politeness that's actually more insulting than open hostility. "How exactly does the spare heir who's been living in Colorado plan to protect us?" The question is fair. Also designed to undermine me in front of everyone who matters. "Increased security protocols, first." I pull up the tablet Marcus prepared, project the map on the screen behind me.

"We're implementing rotating patrols, doubling guards on vulnerable families, establishing safe houses throughout pack territory." "That's reactive," another council member interrupts. "What about proactive measures? Are we hunting these bastards down or just waiting for them to hit us again?" My jaw clenches. "We're gathering intelligence. Marcus has contacts in-" "Intelligence gathering is what got us ambushed in our own homes." The speaker is David-Beta, lost his mate in the attack, has every right to be furious. "They knew our hierarchy, our layouts, exactly when to strike.

Someone fed them information." The room erupts. Accusations flying, old grudges surfacing, paranoia spreading like wildfire through dried brush. "ENOUGH." The Alpha command rolls out before I consciously decide to use it. The effect is immediate. Spines straighten, voices cut off mid-word, wolves showing throat whether they want to or not. My wolf surges with satisfaction at the submission, at the pack recognizing my authority even when I barely recognize it myself. "We are not turning on each other." I let the command fade but keep my voice hard.

"That's exactly what they want-us fractured, fighting amongst ourselves, too distracted to organize an actual defense." "Easy to say when you weren't here." David's voice shakes with rage and grief. "You were in Colorado playing lawyer while we were bleeding. Now you want to lead us?" The accusation hits harder than it should. He's not wrong-I was three states away building my own life when my pack needed me. Only reason I got here at all was the Alpha-heir bond screaming emergency loud enough to wake me from dead sleep. "You're right." The admission costs me. "I wasn't here.

I should have been. But I'm here now and we can either spend the next hour debating whether I deserve this position, or we can focus on keeping everyone alive long enough to rebuild." Caroline's in the back of the room. I shouldn't look for her-shouldn't need that external validation when I'm supposed to be projecting Alpha certainty. But my eyes find her anyway, human among wolves, completely out of place and completely unbothered by it. She's watching me with absolute faith. No skepticism, no doubt, just steady certainty that I can handle this even when I'm obviously winging it.

That look steadies me more than any Alpha command could. Grounds me in ways pack hierarchy never will. The meeting devolves into arguments about resource allocation and patrol schedules. I answer questions I don't have answers for, make decisions that feel like guessing, promise things I'm not sure I can deliver. By the time everyone finally disperses-skeptical but marginally convinced I won't immediately destroy everything-I'm exhausted in ways sleep won't fix. I find myself outside.

The gardens behind the pack house offer exactly zero privacy but at least the air doesn't taste like fear and resentment. "You were incredible in there." Caroline's voice comes from behind me. I turn. She's leaning against the building, arms crossed but expression soft. Still in the business casual she drove nine hours in, hair escaping from its bun, looking at me like I actually know what I'm doing. "I was winging it." The confession tastes like failure.

"I know." She pushes off the wall, moves into my space with the confidence of someone who's decided the supernatural politics don't intimidate her. "Still incredible." "They hate me. Half of them want Kieran back. The other half think I'm going to get everyone killed." "So prove them wrong." She says it like it's simple. Like leadership is just a decision you make instead of weight that crushes you. Her hand finds my face, thumb stroking across my cheekbone with casual intimacy we've somehow developed in the last forty-eight hours.

I lean into the touch before I can stop myself, letting someone else carry weight for three seconds. "I don't know how to do this." The words come out rough. "Never wanted to do this. Kieran's the Alpha-he's always been the Alpha. I'm just the spare who got to live his own life while my brother carried destiny on his shoulders." "And now you're the one carrying it." Her voice is gentle. "That doesn't make you less capable. Just less prepared." She kisses me then.

Soft and grounding, exactly what I need instead of what I want-which would be to burn down the world and run away from responsibility that's too heavy for one person. The bond flares. Faint but real, pulling me toward her with recognition I've been ignoring for weeks. I felt it that first time I hugged her in my office-that gravitational pull, that cellular certainty that this person matters. Dismissed it as stress and attraction and wishful thinking because I'd just watched Kieran claim his mate and couldn't imagine fate would be kind enough to give me the same gift. But it's there.

Undeniable. Growing stronger each time we touch. I haven't told her yet. Don't know what it means when she's human and I'm wolf, when pack law has rules about human mates that I definitely don't have time to navigate while leading through crisis. But for three seconds, kissing her in the gardens while my pack falls apart, the bond hums satisfied and I let myself feel it. "Thank you." I press my forehead to hers. "For driving nine hours. For staying. For looking at me like I'm not completely fucking this up." "You're not." Her certainty is absolute. "You're doing exactly what you need to do.

One crisis at a time, one decision at a time. That's all anyone can ask." Footsteps on gravel. I pull back to find Thalia approaching, expression carefully neutral in ways that tell me whatever she's about to say isn't good news. "The kids-" She hesitates, something that never happens. Thalia doesn't hesitate. She decides and moves forward. "They feel safer around you right now. Your wolf's intact, your presence is... grounding." The implication lands like a gut punch. They don't feel safe around Kieran.

Their father, their Alpha, reduced to human and therefore no longer capable of protecting them on a level that registers to wolf cubs. It's not his fault. Doesn't make it hurt less. "Bring them to my place tonight." The offer comes out before I think it through. "All of you. Phoenix can sleep in the spare room, Orion and Luna can share the office if we set up sleeping bags. Safety in numbers, right?" Relief floods her expression. "Thank you. They need-we all need-" She doesn't finish but I understand. They need pack presence. Need wolf energy surrounding them like a security blanket.

Need someone whose supernatural connection is intact reminding them they're not completely vulnerable. Kieran's watching from across the room. Thirty feet away but I feel his eyes tracking the conversation, watching his mate ask his brother for protection he can't currently provide. His expression is carefully blank. The kind of blank that means everything underneath is screaming. "Tonight then," Thalia says. "After I get them fed and calmed down. If that's-" "Anytime." I force myself to smile. "Door's open." She nods, grateful, and walks back toward where Kieran's standing.

I watch him school his expression into something neutral, watch her touch his arm with the kind of automatic gesture that speaks to habit even when the mate bond's silent. "That was kind of you." Caroline's voice is quiet beside me. "That was necessary." The correction tastes bitter. "They're pack. Pack takes care of its own." Even when taking care of them means watching your brother realize he's lost more than just his wolf. That his mate and children need someone else's presence to feel safe.

Even when being Alpha means carrying weight that doesn't belong to you and wasn't meant for your shoulders. Even when you're terrified you're going to fail everyone who's depending on you. I watch Kieran turn away from Thalia, watch his spine straighten with effort, watch him become human pretending to be fine while everything he is crumbles. And I realize with sinking certainty that this is what Alpha means. Not power or prestige or the right to command. This. Carrying everyone else's pain while pretending your own doesn't exist. God, I miss being the spare. Archer