The Triplet Alphas' Secret Mate

Chapter 118: Seeing Her Again

Liam’s POV (Two years after Scarlett fake death)

​Two years.

​Two years had passed since we lowered an empty casket into the red dirt of the North Woods. Two years since the light in the mansion went out, replaced by a cold silence that reeked of whiskey and grief. We were no longer the vibrant young Alphas the pack once admired. We were statues. Stone-faced, efficient, and utterly hollow.

​The Hall, once a place of celebration, felt like a courtroom today. I stood by the window, my back to the room, staring out at the forest where my soul had died.

​"Never, Father!" I roared, the sound vibrating in my chest. I turned around, my eyes glowing with a dangerous, unstable fury. "I am not marrying Camilla. I’ve told those women to leave this packhouse more times than I can count. My brothers and I are not getting married to them!"

​I gestured wildly toward the door, my rage bubbling over. "My brothers can do what they want. If they want to tie themselves to those leeches, that’s their business. But I will not. Not today, not ever."

​Leo, who was leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, let out a sharp, bitter laugh. He spat on the floor, his eyes darting to me with a look of pure annoyance. "Don’t be stupid, Liam. Who told you I want to marry any of those sisters? I’d rather walk back into that ravine and let the rogues tear me apart than touch one of them."

​Leon was the only one who didn’t speak. He sat in a heavy oak chair, his hands gripping the armrests so tightly that the wood was beginning to groan and crack under his strength. He was fuming, a dark cloud of scent and shadow surrounding him that warned everyone to stay back.

​Father Louis stepped forward, his face etched with a frustration that had been building for twenty-four months. "You men have to marry them. It is time. These girls—Camilla, Bianca, and Talia—have been engaged to you for two years. They have waited. They have been patient while you three wallowed in your misery."

​"I have always denied my relationship with them!" I yelled, stepping into my father’s space. "I made it clear from day one that I didn’t want them. If they refused to leave this packhouse and chose to stay here like parasites, that is their business, not mine. I owe them nothing."

​"Liam, listen to reason," Father Louis countered, his voice rising. "The Triplet Sisters are the best match in the five territories. Think of the lineage! They are royalty. They are skilled in politics and combat. They are untouched, pure, and they bring a massive dowry of land and warriors. They are the perfect Lunas for the Full Moon Pack."

​I glared at him, my lip curling in a snarl. "They are not my Scarlett. And since they are not her... I can’t imagine life with another woman. I can’t even imagine sharing a meal with them, let alone a bed."

pack and the need for heirs. Every word he spoke felt like he was throwing dirt on Scarlett’s grave all over again. He spoke as if

low, rasping voice

​"Fathers... please leave."

all morning. His voice was devoid of emotion, as flat

looks. They saw the darkness in Leon’s eyes and realized they had pushed us as far as they could for one

leave tomorrow," he said, his voice hard. "I see no reason why they are still here, eating our food and occupying our rooms. For two

I muttered. "Tomorrow,

his footsteps echoing down the hall. Leon stayed behind

last night," Leon said softly, not looking at

stayed silent, waiting. We all dreamt of her, but we rarely talked about it. It was too painful to bring the

in a bright room with tall windows... an art school. She was wearing a smock covered in charcoal and

how Scarlett used to hide her sketches under her bed. I remembered the way her eyes would light up when she talked about

wanted that so much," I whispered. "But her dream was cut short because of us. Because we

with grief. "She’s gone, Liam. And every

clock on the mantle; it was only 8 PM. It was far too early to retire to bed, but the weight of the day—the weight of

to be awake anymore. Being awake meant dealing with my father, the persistent sisters, and the crushing reality of an empty packhouse. It was only when I slept that I got to meet her. Only in my dreams was I able to see her dark chocolate hair or hear

left the hall and made my way to my bedroom. I didn’t turn on the lights. I didn’t need them. I knew every inch of this room

Suddenly, my wolf, who had been mostly silent and depressed for two years, stirred violently. He didn’t howl; he growled—a low, warning

is wrong,

my nose twitching for a scent, but I found nothing out

bed, intending to just close my eyes for a second, but a strange sensation washed over me. My body suddenly felt heavy—unnaturally heavy. It