Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers

Chapter 92: Wrong

*~ Cyrius’s POV ~*

Moving to another country is hard enough when you’re human. But when you’re dragging along two infants, an unconscious mate, and the whole damn Blue Moon pack hunting you like a feral animal, it’s nearly impossible.

My entire body was trembling from exhaustion, but adrenaline forced me forward. The only saving grace? The babies. Those little creatures—powerful beyond their age—had compelled a maid to carry them for me while I hauled Hazel in my arms. A neat little shortcut I hadn’t planned for, but damn if it didn’t help.

But then I heard voices. Low, guttural, aggressive. Wolves. I knew that sound too well.

Of course Cayden wouldn’t waste time. He’d have already alerted the borders, sent scouts in every direction. He was smart like that. Too smart. That meant I had two choices: stay and fight, or vanish deeper into terrain I already knew. My grip tightened around Hazel. Her head lolled against my shoulder, her scent filling my lungs and twisting something painful inside me.

No. I couldn’t risk a fight. Not with her like this. Not with the babies.

This place... it was familiar. My heart ached as I realized where I was. The broken trees, the twisted path, the faint scent of ash and betrayal. This was the same goddamn forest where Davina had smiled in my face before she sunk a knife in my back...metaphorically and literally. I gritted my teeth and shoved that memory down. I had bigger priorities.

I turned sharply, guiding the maid without a word. She didn’t question me. Good. The compulsion still held. The babies’ powers were strange . Not like anything I’d ever seen. And yet, they were mine. They were hers. I wouldn’t let anyone take them away again.

We trekked for what felt like hours, the forest growing thicker and darker until the path bent around a crooked tree...the one I remembered. The altar tree. The one where I first placed their tiny bodies for the ritual. My stomach churned at the memory.

The hut came into view. Still abandoned, still cursed with the silence of broken promises. We’d stay here for tonight.

Maybe she’ll wake up. And when she does... gods, I’ll have a lot of explaining to do.

I kicked open the door and stepped inside. The maid followed, her face expressionless as she gently set the babies down on a folded cloth near the fire pit. She blinked once, twice, then turned on her heels and walked out—like she was waking from a dream. The compulsion was fading.

Fine.

I knelt beside Hazel, her breathing steady but shallow. Her hair fell across her face, soft and matted. I pushed it aside with shaking fingers. "Iso," I whispered, the name slipping out like a memory, not a call. "Wake up, Iso... come back."

Nothing.

Her hand was limp. Her body cold. But she wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be. Not after everything.

I turned to the babies, their eyes wide, their gaze locked on their mother. They weren’t crying. Just watching. As if they were waiting.

"Little help?" I muttered, nudging them closer. "You want your mother, don’t you?"

I gently placed both twins into her arms. Their little bodies nestled against her as if they belonged there, like puzzle pieces finding their home.

Still nothing. Hazel didn’t stir. But I saw it—her fingers twitched.

"Come on," I whispered again, leaning closer. "Come back to me. Come back to them."

Then I heard a noise outside. I paused.

It doesn’t sound like the maid...

What’s that...? My senses were sharper now. Too sharp. My ears picked up every creak in the trees, every flap of a distant wing, every drop of moisture sliding off a leaf. But it wasn’t the sound that unsettled me—it was the heartbeat.

maid. The heartbeat was different. Slow, confident, steady...like someone who didn’t need to run. Like someone who had come

darker. My hands... they didn’t feel like mine anymore. They felt faster.

The Vampirsism

use it. Not yet. But I didn’t need to. I wasn’t afraid. Fear was gone. Like someone had gutted it out of me and replaced it with heat and

I thought. Let this thing come. I’ll tear it

the figure stepped into

its face covered with a mask. Smooth porcelain on one side, cracked on the other. A black painted tear slid from one hollow eye. My

I knew that mask.

my arms pulsed, my jaw clenched as recognition spread through me like poison. She stepped forward slowly, deliberately, and in a single motion, she reached up

Davina.

The bitch.

slammed her back against the trunk of a thick tree with such force the bark cracked

shaking with

She gasped, eyes wide

became a vampire. I’m

her to speak. I sank

my tongue

her across the clearing before the taste could destroy me. My throat burned as I spat, stumbling backward. My lips felt seared. My stomach rebelled. It was like swallowing venom dipped in

hit the forest floor hard but stood up like nothing happened, a hand pressed to her bleeding neck. Blood streamed through her

She smirked.

silk and smoke, "only

of my hand. My fingers trembled now—not with

"You tricked me."

she said calmly. "I made

like her blood

made you a vampire, Cyrius. That was the deal. You wanted power. You wanted to be

I roared. "You

"You had to die, Cyrius. That’s how the transition works. You died. The

whatever was

"What?"

it willingly. Well... not consciously," she added with a shrug. "But the ritual works on blood exchange. The babies are an Hybrid... now a Tribid of crescent and

about it like that. They didn’t die in the ritual. Not the way I

gave. I took. "But they’re still alive," I murmured, my

they’re not the same anymore. You changed them. You linked

stared at her, blood still staining my teeth, the taste still clinging to my

like you. They’re hybrids. But make no mistake, Cyrius—you’re something else

hands dropped

my face slightly toward the

The babies... part vampire..?

of the deal. You are stronger than both of your brothers now.

looked at her.Neck torn.

yet she stood tall. Witches. They’re always a step