Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers

Chapter 20: The Rooftop pain

~ Cayden’s POV ~

Daggering my brother was never a choice.

It was mandatory.

A cruel, bloodstained necessity I’ve had to live with every single day for four years. NovelFire

Cyrius wasn’t always like this. Gods, no. As kids, he was the softest of the three of us—the one who always tried to mediate, to patch us up after our fights, the first to laugh and the last to hold a grudge. He was the most excited about the prophecy, about the three of us taking the Alpha throne together.

He believed in the bond between brothers. In the idea of us.

But when the moon chose me—me alone—something in him snapped.

He didn’t just distance himself. He didn’t walk away. He turned rogue. Not in the traditional way—not with claws or violence or open rebellion. No, his betrayal was quieter. More venomous. He turned to the witches. To Crescent magic.

And if anyone ever finds out he’s still alive...

It’ll burn.

Everything.

The pack. The council. Our name.

And I’ll have to kill him. Properly this time.

The beer in my hand sweated in the night air. I stared out at the moon, trying to quiet the noise in my head.

Then Caspian landed beside me on the rooftop. He didn’t say a word. Just dropped down beside me like his spine had given up. His face was blank, but I knew that look. The way his jaw tensed. The twitch behind his eye. He was processing the kind of truth that changes a man forever.

I poured him a cup. He took it without hesitation.

One gulp. And then a scowl.

He coughed. "What the hell did you put in that, you bastard?"

I snorted, already feeling the heat in my limbs. "Look at my perfect Beta," I teased, "brought to his knees by one bottle of alcohol."

"Shut up and help me get up," he grunted, trying to push himself upright. He managed about two inches before sliding back to the floorboards.

I doubled over laughing. "We’re getting married tomorrow," I wheezed. "To our mates. And here we are. Puking on the roof and unable to move our limbs."

He glared at me. "You drugged the drink."

"In my defense," I said, raising a finger dramatically, "you took it from me. Voluntarily."

He reached over, grabbed my hand, then immediately yanked it away like I had thorns. "It’s not every day you find out your long-dead brother is actually alive, Cayden," he muttered, bitterly.

I sobered a little.

"Are we still hung up on that?" I tried to play it off.

His glare burned through me. I poked his side. His scowl deepened. Then, reluctantly, it cracked—and he burst into a laugh he clearly didn’t want to have.

It was brief. But real.

need time," I

into the sky. "Cyrius should

empty. It was full. Heavy with what hadn’t been said. Full of trust, too—trust that

alcohol

by side under the stars, the world silent except for our slow

broken wolves pretending, just for one night,

---

"Are you two serious?"

father’s voice snapped through the morning like

The sun stabbed into my eyes like punishment. My mouth was dry. My bones felt like bricks. I tried

stirred beside

today, Cayden," Father snapped, pacing at the edge of the rooftop with his arms crossed. "And this is where I find you? Drunk? On

his hair a mess, his shirt half

from him," he jabbed a thumb at me, "but

Caspian didn’t answer.

I almost said it.

the truth

dropped a bomb on Caspian’s shoulders—resurrected a ghost that should’ve stayed dead. That this wasn’t a drunk night of wedding nerves, but the result of a decade’s worth of secrets

But I didn’t.

Father would never

of pure rage before hearing us out. He would make it worse. He

So I stayed quiet.

We both did.

climbed down the stairs. Hungover. Sore. Sobered in the

parted at the bottom of the staircase.

supposed to be

laughter, proud parents, cheering pack members, and giddy anticipation. But as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, tightening the collar of my

mates. My hair had been combed back, a fresh cut to sharpen my already severe cheekbones,

beneath the layers of tradition and regal fabric, I felt empty. Like I was about to walk down an aisle

excited. Not even

I would be marrying

rabid storm, tail high, ears perked, whining with impatience. He didn’t care that she wasn’t like us—didn’t care that her life would be a blink in our eternal world, or that she had

He wanted her. Desperately.

to scab. It wasn’t even about the mistake. Not anymore. It was about how my body had betrayed me... how it still ached for her,

her again. No matter how

told myself. That’s all I had to survive. Sixty years, and her fragile human body would give out to time. Sixty years,

weren’t really

an updo that screamed grace and dominance all at once. She looked at me with those eyes that could still pin

on the lips—gently, but full of meaning. Then she whispered, "Please... is there any way you can

with desperation and pride, a contradiction I’d grown too used

into my hands. "Give this to Natasha when she walks

I nodded.

without waiting

chamber,

like a leaf in a storm,

suffocating the room as he yelled Caspian’s name

late—he’ll be late.

and gently held him by the shoulders. "Go. Get everyone to the ceremony.

"But—"

where

grove, preparing for the grand entrance. The air was thick with anticipation,