Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers
Chapter 19: The coffin

Chapter 19: The coffin

Author’s Note: Bonus Chapter Because It’s My Birthday! 🖤

~ Caspian’s POV ~

The council meeting was short and precise and as soon as it ended, I rushed to my chambers. The door clicked shut behind me, and the weight of everything hit me like a steel wall. I ripped off my shirt and threw it aside, letting my skin finally breathe.

Nizen...

The shift still clung to me. I could feel my wolf pacing just beneath the surface, still too close, still too agitated. We hadn’t bonded fully in days. I needed to let him speak.

"Hazel." His voice came sharp and deep in my mind. My wolf’s voice was never soft, but this time it carried more than command. It carried longing. View the correct content at NovelFire.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders.

I felt it too.

Meeting Hazel had changed everything. The moment I scented her, my body stopped moving on autopilot. The bond was undeniable. I had the maids send one of the best dresses in New Orleans for our wedding. But a question still needled at the back of my mind like a splinter I couldn’t remove.

Is she truly human?

Before I could spiral further, a gentle knock echoed against the door.

My brows furrowed. No one should be on this floor. "Who’s there?" I called out.

"Aurora."

That name was enough to jolt me upright.

Aurora wasn’t just anyone. She was the only witch allowed within our pack’s borders—hell, the only one welcome in all of New Orleans. And even then, barely. Wolves were still bitter about what the witches had done—trapping us in our wolf forms under the Blue Moon’s curse. It had taken years to break it.

Cayden broke it first.

But Aurora had helped him free the rest of us. Without her, we’d still be feral, buried in fur and madness.

Still, her presence here, alone, unguarded?

I yanked my shirt back on and flung open the door, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her inside before anyone saw her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed, scanning the hallway before shutting the door. "You’re supposed to stay in your chambers. The others would tear you apart if they saw you roaming freely."

"I’d love to see them try," she said with that smirk that never seemed to fade. She walked further in, her movements slow and deliberate, like a queen entering her throne room. Her long red hair gleamed under the lantern light, and her emerald eyes were sharp enough to slice steel.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You’re insane."

"No," she said smoothly, seating herself on the edge of my bed like she owned the place. "I’m here for something important."

I crossed my arms, waiting.

Then she reached into her cloak and drew out three strands glowing, silver-threaded strands of energy, hovering gently between her fingers. The air crackled.

"What is that?" I asked, eyes narrowing.

"Mating strands," she said, her voice unusually serious now. "Proof that the triplet brothers of this pack have each found their mates."

"Yes," I said cautiously. "We have."

My brows furrowed. Why was she telling me what I already knew?

"I said triplets, Caspian," she said, her tone deliberate, slow, and unnervingly calm. "Not two brothers."

I frowned. "We are triplets. Or we were. One died. Cyrius died. Cayden killed him."

She didn’t blink.

"Then explain why THREE strands are glowing." she emphasized on the ’Three’.

My entire body stilled. I stepped back slightly, unsure whether I’d heard her correctly.

"No," I muttered. "No, that’s not possible. He’s dead. Death doesn’t unlink a bond. That must be it. Even in death, we’re connected."

Aurora rose to her feet, slowly walking toward me. "These strands only appear for the living, Beta Caspian."

My breath hitched.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked, my voice lower, dangerous.

"I have access to the coven’s ancient spellwork now that they’re gone. When triplet alphas are born, witches prepare their fated prophecies ahead of time. Three strands were made when you were born. When a mate is found, their corresponding strand glows."

She raised them again. All three pulsed with soft golden light.

"Cyrius... is alive. Breathing. Somewhere."

The words sliced through me like a serrated blade. My legs buckled slightly as my mind tried to keep up.

"No," I whispered. "Cayden said he killed him. I remember—he said—he saw it happen."

"Then Cayden lied," she said. "Or he thought he killed him and Cyrius survived."

"I’ll kill him," I growled, blood roaring in my ears.

I stormed for the door.

"Versa!"

Aurora’s voice rang out, and instantly, I froze—paralyzed by magic. I snarled, my jaw tightening as I fought the invisible binds. My muscles trembled against the spell.

"Please," she said softly, stepping forward. "Don’t tell him I told you. He might come for me."

She waved her hand, releasing me.

Without another word, she disappeared into the shadows, cloak swirling behind her.

I didn’t waste time.

I bolted from my room and raced through the hallways, storming past stunned guards and startled maids.

"Cayden!" I yelled, throwing open his chamber door. "Cayden!"

Empty.

Of course. He was always in one place after council meetings. The rooftop. His sanctuary. His hiding spot. His cliff’s edge.

I didn’t walk.

I jumped.

My body landed soundlessly on the rooftop, and there he was—sitting on the edge, bottle in hand, staring at the moon like it held the answers to his sins and atrocities he commits.

He didn’t even turn at the sound of my landing.

"Want to join me, brother?" he asked, voice too calm.

I didn’t reply.

I lunged at him.

My hand wrapped around his throat and shoved him back so fast the bottle shattered against the stone. His legs dangled over the edge. One slip, and I’d throw him off.

His eyes widened in pure shock.

I growled, voice like fire in my throat. "Where is Cyrius?"

His heartbeat spiked. That was all the answer I needed.

Out of sheer, burning rage, I shoved Cayden off the rooftop.

I expected to hear bones snap, maybe a scream, at least a hard thud—anything that would satisfy the fury clawing at my chest. Something to match the betrayal. And maybe a few hours’ worth of damage to give me space before we had our "discussion."

But not even a second later...

He was behind me. Correct content is on NovelFire.

No crash. No blood. No broken bones. Just... there.

Back on the rooftop like nothing had happened.

I didn’t turn to face him. I didn’t have to. I could feel the force of his power behind me like static in the air, a reminder of who he truly was. Sometimes I forgot—forgot that Cayden had shifted early, that he became an Alpha at just fourteen, that power never really left him. It simmered beneath his skin like a living weapon.

I growled low in my throat, nostrils flaring. "Where is he?"

"I knew you’d figure it out someday," Cayden muttered. "But I didn’t think it’d be this soon."

I lunged at him again. My fist connected with his mouth, the impact reverberating up my arm.

This time, he didn’t dodge.

He retaliated.

His hand flew up and gripped my throat. Tight.

Too tight.

I choked, wheezing as I tasted copper in my mouth. Blood. I was choking on my blood while he looked at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum.

"You’ve been hitting me," he said coldly. "For days. You’ve been spiraling, Caspian. Be careful."

Then, with a grunt, he flung me across the rooftop. I landed hard on my back, wind knocked out of me. Pain radiated through my spine.

I didn’t wait. I jumped back to my feet and launched at him.

"You’ve kept our brother away from me!" I snarled in his face. "Where is he? Tell me!"

He looked at me... and for the first time, I saw it.

Remorse.

Not fear. Not guilt. Not defiance. Just... exhaustion. Heavy, unbearable remorse.

"He’s here," Cayden said quietly.

I blinked. "What?"

He didn’t repeat himself. Just turned away.

I followed him.

We moved in silence, both fast and tense. Down the stairwell of the high house, the echo of our steps bouncing through the hollow, moonlit corridors.

And then we stopped—at a small door under the main staircase.

A hidden room.

I knew of it. We all did. But no one used it. We never stored anything there. We never even bothered locking it.

And Cayden opened the door.

This is where Cyrius had been.

My brother.

Four years. Four fucking years. Locked away in the dark. While we mourned him. While I fought beside Cayden, I thought the worst of Cyrius had already come to pass. While we buried a lie.

Cayden opened the door and stepped aside, letting me enter first.

I walked in.

The room was cold. Too cold. Not the cold of winter—this was something deeper. Something unnatural.

There was only one thing in the room.

A coffin.

A black one. Sealed, covered in dust, but not forgotten. A lantern lit up as Cayden struck a match behind me, bathing the room in orange flickers.

"I come here every year," Cayden said softly behind me. "On our birthday."

He walked past me, slowly, reverently. Like he was approaching an altar.

"I came the other day too. To wish him a happy birthday."

I said nothing. I couldn’t speak.

My throat had gone dry.

He reached the coffin and opened it.

And there he was.

Cyrius.

His body was pale, sunken, but... intact. His veins were blackened like poison coursed through them. His chest barely moved—but it did. There was a long silver stake embedded deep in his heart. A glowing rune was carved into its hilt.

I reached forward instinctively.

Cayden shoved me back. Hard.

"Don’t," he snapped. "Don’t touch that."

My chest heaved. "What the hell is this? You told me he was dead."

"He was," Cayden said. "He betrayed us."

"Betrayed?" I choked. "He was our brother!"

"He allied with the witches," Cayden said bitterly. "He planned to destroy the pack. He wanted more than what we had. He wanted to become a Crescent. So he could overpower me and become the Alpha."

My heart dropped.

"No," I whispered.

"He wanted power," Cayden continued. "Royal blood wasn’t enough. He wanted magic too. He let the witches feed it to him. Tried to blend it. Tried to become something unnatural. Something dangerous."

I stared at Cyrius’ body. I couldn’t reconcile it. The little boy who used to sneak sweets into our rooms. The brother who had a crooked smile and always ran toward trouble, not from it.

"He never said anything to me," I whispered.

"Because he didn’t need to," Cayden said. "You were too focused on becoming Beta. You didn’t see what he was becoming."

I clenched my jaw.

"This stake," Cayden said, tapping the glowing rune, "can kill any werewolf—Alpha, Beta, Royal, doesn’t matter. It neutralizes our power completely. I used it on him before he could fully shift into what he wanted to become."

My stomach twisted.

"He’ll come for all of us if you pull it out," he said. "He’ll destroy me. You. The council. Maybe even our mate we’re set to marry tomorrow."

My breath caught.

Hazel.

Gods, Hazel.

This was too much. Everything was spinning.

A mate bonds to a human, Packs coming for our pack because we know seem weak, my supposed dead brother is still alive.

What in the moon-goddess is this?

I stared at my brother’s lifeless-but-not-dead form.

Half dead. Half alive.

Cursed. And Cayden...

He looked tired. I’m guessing the whole drama is stressing him out too.

"I know what you’re thinking," he murmured. "But trust me. Letting him out... would destroy everything."

I didn’t answer.

Because I wasn’t sure I disagreed. He was right Cyrius indeed went rogue.

Cyrius had always been different. Wilder. More unpredictable. Maybe even more ambitious than we realized. We thought he didn’t care for the pack hierarchy. But maybe he just wanted to rewrite it. But teaming with witches? No..that was out of hand.

I clenched my fists, every breath shallow and uneven. "Gods... I need that drink you offered me."

Cayden gave a tired chuckle. "Shall we?"