Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers

Chapter 89: Magic babies

**~ Cyrius’s POV ~**

My veins were smooth again no longer dry, cracked, or bulging with that unnatural blue. The tightness in my chest had vanished. My body felt alive in a way it never had before. Did the blood do that? Was one sip enough to undo death itself?

I staggered back to the babies, still lying where I’d found them. Their small chests rose and fell gently now. The blue shadows that once stained their skin had disappeared. They were warm, pink, and normal.

But... they didn’t drink blood.

I did. So why were they fine?

Are they not vampires? Is it only me?

A strange feeling curled in my stomach—half fear, half awe. Was I reborn into something different? Not just a wolf anymore. Not just a Crescent heir. I could still feel Gorge, my wolf, snarling in my chest, alive and strong. But now he shared space with something... hungrier.

A vampire and a werewolf. A hybrid. Something stronger than any Salvator before me.

Finally, I had the power to take the throne.

But first, I needed to learn to control it—before I marched into a pack and tore through them like a mindless beast. My hands were still trembling with energy when I heard it.

Voices. Footsteps. Heartbeats.

Shit.

I grabbed the babies in my arms, their weight a grounding comfort against the storm in my mind. I bolted, slipping out of the High House with speed I hadn’t possessed before—unnatural speed. But just as I crossed the clearing, I stopped in my tracks.

Hazel. I can’t leave without her. No. I won’t

Not when the first time nearly destroyed her. Not after everything. She didn’t deserve this pain. She never did. Neither of us did.

With her and these children... we could start over. Far away. Somewhere no one would find us. A place untouched by curses, politics, or war. We could be a family. I straightened, jaw tight, heart pulsing with purpose.

I need to go back for her.

But I couldn’t just carry the babies into danger. I turned in circles, trying to find a safe place to leave them. Not the coffin. Too obvious. Someone might see them. But I couldn’t just drop them on the ground—

And then... a soft laugh.

Heather, I spun around. No one was there, but I felt them—still in my arms, their presence unmistakable.

I looked down—and gasped....They were gone. No. Not gone. Invisible.

The boy let out a breathy giggle and Heather’s chuckle echoed faintly in my ears. My eyes widened as they shimmered back into view. The boy smiled... smiled and Heather’s eyes sparkled like they knew exactly what I was thinking.

read my mind? How

the witches drain

heard the heaviest footsteps approaching—the thud of Cayden’s boots, the

No. Not now.

breath shallow.

and knowing, and then—gone. The air shimmered and they vanished again, weight still warm in

and placed a finger to my lips. Don’t

and sharp-eyed. His head snapped toward the area where I stood.

heard something. Maybe my heartbeat. Maybe

brow furrowed... but he didn’t move toward me. They

of the first Crescent guardian—the ancient protector of the Blue Moon Pack. My godfather. His stone eyes watched as I clenched my

faded,

Now. Hazel.

calling her scent to memory..the soft warmth of lavender. I followed it like a lifeline. It led me upstairs, right

strong. She was

hand hovered

of his voice...Caspian. And another. The redhead witch.. I clenched my fists at the

Not with him there. Not with her like

didn’t know how long they could hold that trick, or even if they

for something...anything-to shift. Then I heard

It was her...The witch.

need to let her rest," she said softly

know what she’ll wake up as. Her mind wouldn’t shut the emotions off... so her body did it for her. It collapsed. It’s how

There was a pause.

isn’t enough. Not when this house, this war... keeps

both step out. Watched as they left

her. He didn’t deserve her. Neither of them had ever truly seen her. Not

They’d broken her.

I would save her.

hallway cleared, I slipped through the door and shut it quietly behind me, locking it. My eyes

something out of a painting. Her soft brunette hair was scattered across the pillow, a few strands tangled across her cheek like careless silk. Her face... peaceful, fragile. She didn’t stir. Not even when I stepped closer. Her chest rose slowly. She was deep in slumber, and I knew she

I swallowed hard, my fingertips itching with the urge to touch

away from her temple. "It’s me and you. Forever. I’m taking

didn’t flinch, didn’t stir. It was like her

She belonged with me.

on my back, securing her arms around my neck, using my free hand to adjust her legs against

I turned to

Moon