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.

just need

sky. "Cyrius

with what hadn’t been said. Full of trust, too—trust that my brother, even in the face of betrayal, still chose

alcohol took

talk after that. Didn’t move. Just laid there side by side under the stars, the world silent except

night, that the world outside this rooftop

---

"Are you two serious?"

snapped through the morning like a

like punishment. My mouth was dry. My bones

stirred beside me, groaning

snapped, pacing at the edge of the rooftop with his arms crossed. "And this is where I find

a sitting position, his hair a

this idiocy from him," he jabbed a thumb at me, "but you? You were supposed to keep him in check. Are you now part

Caspian didn’t answer.

I almost said it.

blurted the truth

a drunk night of wedding nerves, but the result

But I didn’t.

would

stake from Cyrius’s heart out of pure rage before hearing us out. He would make it worse. He would destroy everything we were barely

So I stayed quiet.

We both did.

down the stairs.

the bottom of the staircase. Caspian turned left. I

to be

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

navy and silver, the same colors our ancestors wore when pledging to their fated mates. My hair had been combed back, a fresh cut to sharpen my already severe cheekbones, and my cuffs bore the crest of our lineage: a

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

excited. Not even

would be

of course, felt differently. He was pacing inside me like a rabid storm, tail high, ears perked, whining with impatience. He didn’t care that she wasn’t like us—didn’t care that her

He wanted her. Desperately.

her skin. The memory of her body under mine was carved into me like a wound that refused to scab. It wasn’t even about the mistake. Not anymore.

her again. No matter how my wolf clawed at the walls

to survive. Sixty years, and her fragile human body would give out to

years... that weren’t really for

entered, dressed in elegant pale blue, her silver hair swept into an updo that screamed grace and dominance all at once. She looked

of meaning. Then she whispered, "Please...

with desperation and pride, a contradiction I’d

into my hands. "Give this to Natasha when she walks down the aisle. Try to look like

I nodded.

waiting for

chamber,

was twirling like a leaf in a storm,

room as he yelled

be late—he’ll be late. Oh my gods—he’ll ruin his own

him and gently held him by the shoulders. "Go. Get everyone to the ceremony. I’ll bring

"But—"

where

I walked. Everyone else had gathered near the ceremonial grove, preparing for the grand entrance. The air was thick with anticipation, but my feet carried me in the