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

the sky. "Cyrius should remain there. For

that followed wasn’t empty. It was full. Heavy with what hadn’t been said. Full of trust, too—trust that my brother, even in the face

the alcohol took

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

for one night, that the world outside this

---

"Are you two serious?"

father’s voice snapped through

my eyes like punishment. My mouth was dry. My bones felt like bricks. I tried to move,

beside me, groaning

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

position, his hair a mess, his

the Beta. The responsible one. I expect this idiocy from him," he jabbed a thumb at

Caspian didn’t answer.

I almost said it.

blurted the truth

had 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

But I didn’t.

Father would

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. Hungover.

bottom of the staircase.

to be

and giddy anticipation. But as I stared at my reflection

combed back, a fresh cut to sharpen

about to walk down an aisle made of

wasn’t excited. Not

I would be

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 no rank, no bloodline, no connection to the Moon

He wanted her. Desperately.

how much I still remembered the feeling of 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

touch her again. No matter how my wolf clawed

and her fragile human body would give out to time. Sixty years, and this would all be

weren’t

swept into an updo that screamed grace and dominance all at once.

smiled lightly, and kissed me on the lips—gently, but full of meaning. Then she whispered,

laced with desperation and pride,

a small bouquet into my hands. "Give this to Natasha when she walks down the aisle. Try

I nodded.

without waiting for

my chamber,

like a leaf in

the room as he yelled

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

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

"But—"

where

had gathered near the ceremonial grove, preparing for the grand entrance.