Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers

Chapter 81: Sacrifice

**~ Cyrius’s POV ~**

They told me to stand back as they lit the candles around the half-fallen tree—where they had placed the babies. The air shifted, thick with incantations and strange power. The atmosphere was no longer natural; it had turned darker, heavier.

Then they started crying.

First Heather, then her brother.

Sharp, guttural cries. Cries that pierced through me like daggers.

I stepped forward immediately, heart racing, but one of the witches held me back.

"Don’t worry," she said quickly, her voice calm but her eyes watching me closely. "They’re fine. It’s just the beginning of the sacrifice. I’m sure they’ll survive it."

Survive it? The hell did she mean by that?

She could see it in my eyes—I wasn’t playing around. I didn’t care how powerful their little spell was. I wasn’t about to let these babies suffer.

They’re like mine now.. I’ve been with them since birth. I know their cries, habits, what makes them calm down, and what triggers them. I kept my damn sanity because of them.

But the witches didn’t stop. They began circling the tree stump, forming a tight barrier around the twins until I could no longer see them. Only their cries echoed back to me, muffled, but real. Painful.

I gritted my teeth.

"Calm down, Cyrius," I whispered to myself. "This is for the greater good. Think about the future. Think about the power."

But my heart was pounding like war drums. My whole body was on edge.

"Are you sure nothing’s going to happen to them?" I turned to the witch who was still standing beside me.

"I’m sure," she nodded softly. "You just need to breathe. If you need a break, take one—"

And then Heather let out a scream. Not just a cry.

A scream and it was high-pitched. Guttural. Painful. Before I even realized it, I snapped.

I shoved past the witches, ignoring their protests. I tore into the circle and grabbed both babies from the half-tree, wrapping them into my arms. Their cries began to settle immediately as I cradled them against my chest.

"You idiot!" one of the witches shouted. "You ruined the sacrifice! We’ll have to start all over!"

"I don’t give a damn," I snapped, glaring at them. "I said no pain. I meant it."

Their chanting stopped. I walked away from the circle, still holding the twins close. Their bodies were warm against mine, still a little shaken, but safe.

reached into the small cloth pouch at my side and brought out the coconut milk. Heather nuzzled her face into my

slowly. "You’re

behind me. "You’re quite

same witch from earlier. The one who had first brought me to the coven. She sat beside

harm them," she added quickly, raising her hands. "If anything, I

sitting so close,"

faintly. "I’m Davina, by the way." She

a bit occupied." I

admitted. "That was, you know, until you kidnapped them. But

I said after a pause. "She’s my mate. That

head. "So you named

"The

my god," she breathed, "It fits her so

still

about... Sebastian?" she offered..."Sebastian?"

He’s definitely going to break hearts when he

huffed. "I’ll

nodded, then turned serious. "Cyrius... I want you to understand something. We’re witches, yes—but that doesn’t mean we’re cruel. We’re not trying to harm the babies. The scream you heard from Heather? That wasn’t pain—it was power. We were removing magic from them. Draining some of it. They’re too powerful right now. If we don’t

swallowed hard. She was right. They

"They’ll survive it. But you—" she looked me dead in the eye, "you’re going to need to decide if you’re

down

Heather. Sebastian?

sure yet what I’d become.

touch her—she was stubborn, just like her mother. We returned to the altar, and the witches

the spell again," one of them snapped, glaring

back down. Heather whimpered slightly, and it took everything in

witches began chanting. The wind shifted sharply. The atmosphere turned electric and heavy—like the very air

Her bow was already in her hand, her fingers tense against the string.

said under her breath.

"How?" I hissed.

clenched. "It must be that damn Aurora... or that Crescent bitch in

High House. My old home. My prison. "They’d figure it out eventually," I

quiet signal. I watched the witches spring into motion—scaling trees, blending into the shadows. I joined her atop one of the thicker branches, crouching low with my eyes sweeping

spotted

Not yet," I said.

stayed there in silence, waiting. Watching. Then I caught it—the scent. That familiar softness laced with cedar and ash. Caspian. My chest

called a friend. Out of the three of us, I had always preferred him. And yet he