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.

No. Not the maid. Definitely not the maid. The heartbeat was different. Slow, confident, steady...like someone who didn’t need to run. Like someone who had come to watch me squirm. I stepped outside more than ready to attack.

My fingers twitched. A part of me thought it was adrenaline. But no...it was something else. Something darker. My hands... they didn’t feel like mine anymore. They felt faster. Hungrier. As though my whole body was humming with this new thing inside me.

The Vampirsism

I didn’t know how to 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 venom.

Let them come, I thought. Let this thing come. I’ll tear it apart.

Then the figure stepped into the clearing.

Half of 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 muscles locked.

I knew that mask.

The veins in 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 fingers light as wind and pulled the mask off.

Davina.

The bitch.

My mind blanked. My hands didn’t. I grabbed her by the throat, slammed her back against the trunk of a thick tree with such force the bark cracked beneath her spine.

"You bastard," I hissed, my voice low, shaking with rage. "How dare you show your face to me?"

She gasped, eyes wide

"You must have come to die," I spat. "Newsflash—I became a vampire. I’m craving blood. And I’m not picky anymore."

I didn’t wait for her to speak. I sank my fangs into her neck.

Her blood hit my tongue like acid. I gagged...Choked.

Then I threw 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 fire.

She hit the forest floor hard but stood up like nothing happened, a hand pressed to her bleeding neck. Blood streamed through her fingers, but she wasn’t panicked.

She smirked.

"Vampires," she said, her voice like silk and smoke, "only drink human blood. Not witches."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. My fingers trembled now—not with fear, but fury.

"You tricked me."

"No," she said calmly. "I made you."

She took a step closer, like her blood wasn’t still oozing down her shoulder.

"I made you a vampire, Cyrius. That was the deal. You wanted power. You wanted to be stronger than your brothers. Stronger than Hazel. I gave you everything."

"You betrayed me!" I roared. "You used the babies...you let them die!" noveldrama

Her face twisted with a bitter kind of sympathy. "You think you died alone?" she whispered. "You had to die, Cyrius. That’s how the transition works. You died. The children gave you their power."

I blinked..My heart... or whatever was left of it, clenched.

"What?"

"They gave 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 a royal blooded wolf, and part vampire... their blood is divine. You drank it. The moment it touched your lips you were remade."

I stumbled back. I hadn’t even thought about it like that. They didn’t die in the ritual. Not the way I thought.

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

"Yes," she said. "But they’re not the same anymore. You changed them. You linked yourselves. And now... I think they’re part vampire."

I stared at her, blood still staining my teeth, the taste still clinging to my throat like punishment.

"They’re not bloodsuckers," she added quickly. "Not like you. They’re hybrids. But make no mistake, Cyrius—you’re something else entirely now."

My hands dropped to my sides.

I turned my face slightly toward the hut.

The babies... part vampire..?

"I didn’t betray you," Davina said again, softer this time. "I kept my end of the deal. You are stronger than both of your brothers now. You’re stronger than everyone. But now you have to decide what you’re going to do with it."

I looked at her.Neck torn. Blood still flowing.

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

"You didn’t keep your end of the deal," I whispered. "Because I never asked to feel this empty."

She smiled sadly.

"Power always comes at a price, Cyrius. You should’ve asked what it cost before you begged for it."

And then she vanished into thin air.

And then... I heard her voice.

Faint. Struggling. Like someone rising from a dark, endless sleep.

"Caspian...? Aurora...? Where... am I?"

Hazel.

My heart—or whatever version of it was left—stopped for a moment.

She was awake.

The twins must’ve done it. They must have stirred her awake somehow, just like they made themselves visible again. Maybe it was their energy pulsing through her, or maybe they were just... tired of hiding. I didn’t know.

All I knew was—I had to see her.

I rushed back into the room and there she was sitting. But barely holding herself together.

The babies—those strange, powerful children had already moved beside her. Their tiny, hands hovering gently like they belonged nowhere else but in her arms.

Hazel stared at them, eyes wide, disbelieving. Like seeing them made the pain real again. The reason her body had shut down in the first place. The grief. The guilt. The unbearable weight of losing them... and now, seeing them again? She looked like she was seconds from tearing herself apart from the inside out.

And then her gaze shifted. To me. Our eyes locked.

And her face...gods—her face. It froze.

A chill passed through her features, down her throat, into her trembling hands. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Her pupils widened, her breath caught.

Shock....Fear....Recognition. I saw it all.

Her heart rate spiked. I could hear it. Her lungs heaved like they were trying to escape her ribs. The blood drained from her face as she looked at me like she’d just seen the very monster that haunted her sleep.

"Hazel," I said softly, stepping forward, my hands raised slightly. "Calm down."

She flinched at my voice. The sound of it alone made her body recoil like I’d struck her.

And then the babies...her babies...began to cry.

Soft at first. Then louder. Shrill and full of need...They were hungry.

And I hadn’t fed them. Not since the ritual. I’d been too caught up in power and blood and betrayal, trying to hold my sanity together while the rest of the world crumbled around me. I’d given them coconut milk... days ago. I wasn’t even sure what day it was anymore.

Hazel, though? She reacted immediately.

Snapped out of her shock like instinct had gripped her by the spine.

She stood. Fast...So fast it startled me. Her body swayed slightly, still weak from everything, but her eyes were locked on the twins those sobbing, ethereal children and her mouth opened again.

"They’re crying," she whispered, dazed. "They’re... they’re crying. They’re not dead."