Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers
Chapter 20: The Rooftop pain

Chapter 20: The Rooftop pain

~ Cayden’s POV ~

Daggering my brother was never a choice.

It was mandatory.

A cruel, bloodstained necessity I’ve had to live with every single day for four years. NovelFire

Cyrius wasn’t always like this. Gods, no. As kids, he was the softest of the three of us—the one who always tried to mediate, to patch us up after our fights, the first to laugh and the last to hold a grudge. He was the most excited about the prophecy, about the three of us taking the Alpha throne together.

He believed in the bond between brothers. In the idea of us.

But when the moon chose me—me alone—something in him snapped.

He didn’t just distance himself. He didn’t walk away. He turned rogue. Not in the traditional way—not with claws or violence or open rebellion. No, his betrayal was quieter. More venomous. He turned to the witches. To Crescent magic.

And if anyone ever finds out he’s still alive...

It’ll burn.

Everything.

The pack. The council. Our name.

And I’ll have to kill him. Properly this time.

The beer in my hand sweated in the night air. I stared out at the moon, trying to quiet the noise in my head.

Then Caspian landed beside me on the rooftop. He didn’t say a word. Just dropped down beside me like his spine had given up. His face was blank, but I knew that look. The way his jaw tensed. The twitch behind his eye. He was processing the kind of truth that changes a man forever.

I poured him a cup. He took it without hesitation.

One gulp. And then a scowl.

He coughed. "What the hell did you put in that, you bastard?"

I snorted, already feeling the heat in my limbs. "Look at my perfect Beta," I teased, "brought to his knees by one bottle of alcohol."

"Shut up and help me get up," he grunted, trying to push himself upright. He managed about two inches before sliding back to the floorboards.

I doubled over laughing. "We’re getting married tomorrow," I wheezed. "To our mates. And here we are. Puking on the roof and unable to move our limbs."

He glared at me. "You drugged the drink."

"In my defense," I said, raising a finger dramatically, "you took it from me. Voluntarily."

He reached over, grabbed my hand, then immediately yanked it away like I had thorns. "It’s not every day you find out your long-dead brother is actually alive, Cayden," he muttered, bitterly.

I sobered a little.

"Are we still hung up on that?" I tried to play it off.

His glare burned through me. I poked his side. His scowl deepened. Then, reluctantly, it cracked—and he burst into a laugh he clearly didn’t want to have.

It was brief. But real.

"I just need time," I said.

He nodded, staring into the sky. "Cyrius should remain there. For now."

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was full. Heavy with what hadn’t been said. Full of trust, too—trust that my brother, even in the face of betrayal, still chose to understand instead of condemn.

Eventually, the alcohol took over.

We didn’t talk after that. Didn’t move. Just laid there side by side under the stars, the world silent except for our slow breathing.

Two broken wolves pretending, just for one night, that the world outside this rooftop didn’t exist.

---

"Are you two serious?"

My father’s voice snapped through the morning like a whip.

I groaned. The sun stabbed into my eyes like punishment. My mouth was dry. My bones felt like bricks. I tried to move, but my limbs said no.

Caspian stirred beside me, groaning too.

"You’re getting married today, Cayden," Father snapped, pacing at the edge of the rooftop with his arms crossed. "And this is where I find you? Drunk? On the roof? What is wrong with both of you?"

Caspian struggled into a sitting position, his hair a mess, his shirt half untucked. "Father, I"

"You," Father interrupted, pointing at him. "You’re the Beta. The responsible one. I expect this idiocy from him," he jabbed a thumb at me, "but you? You were supposed to keep him in check. Are you now part of his stupidity too?"

Caspian didn’t answer.

I almost said it.

Almost blurted the truth right there.

That I had dropped a bomb on Caspian’s shoulders—resurrected a ghost that should’ve stayed dead. That this wasn’t a drunk night of wedding nerves, but the result of a decade’s worth of secrets boiling to the surface.

But I didn’t.

Because Father would never understand.

He’d rip the stake from Cyrius’s heart out of pure rage before hearing us out. He would make it worse. He would destroy everything we were barely holding together.

So I stayed quiet.

We both did.

We nodded, muttered half-assed apologies, and climbed down the stairs. Hungover. Sore. Sobered in the worst way possible.

We didn’t say anything as we parted at the bottom of the staircase. Caspian turned left. I turned right.

Weddings are supposed to be joyous, right?

Filled with laughter, proud parents, cheering pack members, and giddy anticipation. But as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, tightening the collar of my ceremonial shirt, joy was the furthest thing from my mind.

I looked the part—the mighty Alpha, dressed in navy and silver, the same colors our ancestors wore when pledging to their fated mates. My hair had been combed back, a fresh cut to sharpen my already severe cheekbones, and my cuffs bore the crest of our lineage: a wolf biting down on a crescent moon.

Yet beneath the layers of tradition and regal fabric, I felt empty. Like I was about to walk down an aisle made of glass, every step echoing with the cracks beneath my feet.

I wasn’t excited. Not even close.

Because today, I would be marrying a human.

My wolf, of course, felt differently. He was pacing inside me like a rabid storm, tail high, ears perked, whining with impatience. He didn’t care that she wasn’t like us—didn’t care that her life would be a blink in our eternal world, or that she had no rank, no bloodline, no connection to the Moon Goddess.

He wanted her. Desperately.

And I hated how much I still remembered the feeling of her skin. The memory of her body under mine was carved into me like a wound that refused to scab. It wasn’t even about the mistake. Not anymore. It was about how my body had betrayed me... how it still ached for her, despite every rational reason to resist.

But I wouldn’t touch her again. No matter how my wolf clawed at the walls inside me.

Sixty years, I told myself. That’s all I had to survive. Sixty years, and her fragile human body would give out to time. Sixty years, and this would all be over.

Sixty years... that weren’t really for us.

A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts. Mother entered, dressed in elegant pale blue, her silver hair swept into an updo that screamed grace and dominance all at once. She looked at me with those eyes that could still pin me in place with a single glance.

She walked over, smiled lightly, and kissed me on the lips—gently, but full of meaning. Then she whispered, "Please... is there any way you can not kiss the human today?"

I stared at her. Her voice was laced with desperation and pride, a contradiction I’d grown too used to.

Before I could answer, she shoved a small bouquet into my hands. "Give this to Natasha when she walks down the aisle. Try to look like you care. We’re still royalty."

I nodded.

She left without waiting for a response.

Outside my chamber, chaos reigned.

Father was twirling like a leaf in a storm, his

Anger suffocating the room as he yelled Caspian’s name angrily.

"Where is he?! We’ll be late—he’ll be late. Oh my gods—he’ll ruin his own wedding!"

I stepped toward him and gently held him by the shoulders. "Go. Get everyone to the ceremony. I’ll bring him."

"But—"

"I know where he is."

The halls were silent as I walked. Everyone else had gathered near the ceremonial grove, preparing for the grand entrance. The air was thick with anticipation, but my feet carried me in the opposite direction.

To the east wing. To him.

I opened the door with a quiet click and stepped into the dimly lit chamber.

There he was—Caspian—standing beside the coffin that held our other brother.

Cyrius.

He didn’t flinch at my presence. He was speaking to the coffin, his voice low and wistful.

"You should’ve been here," he said. "Maybe you’d be my best man. Or hell, maybe you’d be marrying too. Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to resist Hazel’s charms either."

His voice broke into a quiet chuckle.

I knocked gently on the doorframe.

He froze.

Then he turned and shut the coffin with a reverent, practiced ease.

He had already changed—dressed in his wedding suit, hair combed to perfection, his bright blue eyes haunting under the light. His jaw clenched as he looked at me, and I could tell: the weight of today wasn’t lost on him.

"Be careful how often you come here," I murmured. "Someone might see."

He nodded, silently. No excuses.

We left the room together, and I locked the door behind us.

The ceremonial grove was already packed.

Pack members sat in orderly rows. Neighbors. Elders. Allies from distant territories. Even a few from neutral packs who had come to see the spectacle of the mighty Alpha Cayden marrying beneath his rank.

Everyone was here.

Everyone but the brides.

My palms were sweating. The bouquet in my hand felt heavier than a sword. My breath caught in my throat as I stepped onto the platform beside Caspian.

We stood at the head of the aisle. Our people were quiet. Waiting. Watching.

Caspian was composed. As always. His heartbeat was steady. His eyes set on the pathway ahead where Hazel would appear. His hands folded behind him like a soldier awaiting orders.

You’d never know he spent the morning in a forbidden room talking to a dead brother.

That’s Caspian for you.

So formal. So responsible. So... hollow on the inside.

He’s already accepted Hazel. Already given her his devotion. He’ll treat Natasha with respect, but he won’t give her his soul.

And me?

I couldn’t even pretend to care.

But my wolf—oh, that damn wolf Ragner—his ears perked the second the wind shifted. The second her scent hit the air.

I tried to steel myself, to hold onto the numbness, but it slipped the moment I remembered her face.

That long brunette hair. Those dazzling hazel eyes. That soft, circular skin like she was molded from porcelain. Her posture regal despite her human blood. Her presence loud even in silence.

I clenched my jaw.

No. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care.

We don’t mix. She’s human. I’m an Alpha.

That’s all there is to it.