Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers
Chapter 47: Pain of a monster

Chapter 47: Pain of a monster

*~Hazel’s POV~*

I stormed into my room, my chest heaving like I had just run a mile through mud. I don’t know what I thought—that they would believe me? Me? The helpless human girl whose voice had never mattered in a room full of wolves. One strange observation and I thought it would finally count for something?

It never has.

Caspian didn’t follow me. He didn’t even try. He just stood there, watching me walk away. Or maybe he’d already turned his back by then. I didn’t go to his chamber this time—I went to mine. I wanted to be alone, where the silence wouldn’t try to argue with me, where I didn’t have to pretend I was still brave.

The moment I shut the door behind me, the weight of everything crashed down.

I collapsed into the bed without even pulling back the covers. I lay there as the hours passed, unmoving, my body heavy and my mind louder than ever. At some point, the room began to dim. Evening gave way to night, and moonlight crept through the slits in my curtains, casting silver streaks over my skin.

The glow touched my face. I didn’t move. I just turned to my side and touched my stomach, rubbing slow circles.

I gasped softly. A soft movement NovelFire

It was faint. So faint. But I felt like...

My child.

And then the memory returned. The thing I saw. The thing no one wanted to believe. The thing with his eyes. The way he looked, the power around him, the way something ancient had flickered across his skin for a split second. What is he? Who the hell did I get pregnant for?

Before the thought could consume me again, a sound cut through the stillness—a knock. But not on my door.

Tap. Tap.

I sat up sharply. My head whipped toward the window.

Another knock.

I crawled to the window and peeked through the glass. My breath caught. A small folded letter was pressed to the outside, pinned with a silver thumbtack. I opened the window slowly, letting the cool breeze brush past me, and took the letter.

Scrawled in dark ink:

"Meet me at the rooftop."

My heart stuttered.

Who? Why?

But curiosity? Yeah, it had always been the death of me.

I didn’t think—I just moved. Slipped out the back of my chamber and snuck through the silent halls. Up the winding stairwell that led to the roof of the high-house.

When I finally pushed open the rusted door, the night air kissed my skin, and my eyes found him.

Sitting near the ledge, his posture relaxed, but everything about him screamed tightly wound chaos. His long black hair blew gently in the breeze, a few strands sticking to his sharp cheekbones. He had a trimmed beard now, darker than the last time I saw him this close. And those eyes—goddess, those eyes, blood red, glowing faintly under the moonlight.

Cayden.

He turned his head slightly, catching me in his gaze. And then, slowly, he patted the spot beside him. No words. Just an invitation.

A cold drink sat in one hand. Another empty cup in the other. As he poured from the bottle, the golden liquid glistened under the moon.

I didn’t move.

My legs froze. My breath caught.

I couldn’t sit next to him. Not after what I’d said. Not after the way I’d looked at him—like he was something to fear.

He looked like a man now, calm and collected. But that didn’t erase what I’d seen earlier. The rage. The power. The monster.

Still, the guilt that weighed on my chest made me step forward. The memory of his face when I called him that. The pain in it, like a mirror of something he’d seen before. His mother looked at him like that and even feared him... till now.

It broke something in me.

I walked over slowly and sat beside him, careful not to brush against his arm.

He handed me the cup.

I flinched.

His jaw tightened, and something flickered across his face. A mix of hurt and disappointment, quickly masked with a scornful half-smile. "I forgot," he muttered, "humans don’t like sitting near monsters."

"No," I whispered. "That’s not " I stopped, then took the cup from him gently. I placed it back on the ground, between us. "I can’t drink that."

He raised a brow.

"I’m pregnant," I said, rubbing my belly like it would prove my words. "You shouldn’t serve a pregnant woman alcohol."

He blinked, and then he chuckled. A real, low sound that rumbled from his chest.

"My bad," he said, taking the cup back and downing it in one long gulp. "I’m used to being nice to people like you."

"People like me?"

His gaze shifted toward the stars. "Someone carrying life."

I didn’t know how to answer that. But then he turned to me fully, his face unreadable.

"Why did you call me a monster," he asked, voice quiet, almost gentle... Almost? "That made you call me a monster?

I took a deep breath, my lungs stinging with everything I hadn’t said for weeks I’ve stayed in the high-house. My voice trembled, but I forced the words out anyway.

"Millions of reasons," I said quietly. "You want to know why I called you a monster? Fine. Let me list them."

He turned toward me, his jaw already tightening.

"One," I began, counting on my fingers, "you rejected me."

His eyes flinched just slightly.

"Two... you got me pregnant."

His lips parted, but I didn’t stop.

"Three, you rejected the baby. Called it illegitimate like it didn’t matter. Like it wasn’t even yours."

His eyes dropped to the ground.

"Four, out of nowhere, you accepted me again. Married me. No explanation. No apology. Just... possession. Five" I inhaled sharply, voice shaking now. "You started acting all weird. Possessive. Like you have the right to call my baby your child."

And then my voice dropped, lower, softer, like it might break apart.

"And then I had the dream."

He didn’t look up.

"I saw you kill your brothers. Both of them. Your body... it changed. Dark veins crawling under your skin. This terrifying power bursting out of you like something inside you was breaking free."

Silence.

Then, a whisper. "What?"

I blinked, confused. "I said, first you rejected me"

"No, no." He sat up, his eyes locked on mine now, something wild flashing in them. "The last thing. Say the last thing again."

My heart thudded.

"I said... dark veins appeared in your body. And this weird power was surging through you. It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt... real."

That’s when his face changed.

Something flickered in his soft red eyes... Weird

I froze. "Wait... don’t tell me....don’t tell me it wasn’t a dream." My voice broke.

I stood immediately, the panic swelling in my chest. "Cayden, don’t tell me that was real. Don’t tell me the veins, the power, the you—"

He reached out and grabbed my wrist, firm but not rough. I yanked back.

"Don’t touch me!" I screamed. " What the hell are you?!"

His voice dropped low–too calm. Too controlled.

"Hazel. Calm down."

"Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. Is that what you become? That thing in my dream?"

"I don’t remember killing my brothers," he said, almost to himself, eyes distant. "But you Hazel, you’re leaving tonight."

I blinked, stunned. "What?"

The version of Cayden who had looked at me with softness earlier—who had chuckled, who had listened....he was gone. He was now back to his monstrous self.

"You’re leaving," he repeated. "Aurora’s packed already. She’ll go with you."

"Leave?" My voice cracked. "Why? Cayden, you were just about to...what the hell is going on with you?!"

He stood now, towering, that alpha dominance seeping out of him like smoke.

"There have never been any ’dark veins’ in my body," he said flatly. "No weird power. There’s nothing wrong with me."

"Liar," I whispered. "You’re lying.."

"I am an alpha," he growled. "A full-blooded werewolf. And the father of that child growing inside you. That’s all you need to know."

I swallowed hard, my knees weak.

"You’re leaving with Aurora," he said again, stepping closer. "Because Dahlia is alive."

Everything in me froze.

"What?"

"A witch is here. In this palace. And if you love your child... You have to leave."

My mouth fell open. "Why didn’t you say anything before? Why now?"

He exhaled deeply. "Because it’s not safe for you here. I can’t explain everything. But I swear to you—there’s a plan."

"What plan?! What does that mean?" My voice cracked. "You can’t just dump me into the woods with a witch hunting me and say ’there’s a plan!’"

"Hazel..." he said softly.

He stepped forward again, slower this time.

"Come here."

I hesitated.

Then he took my hand warmer than I expected and leaned in. His breath tickled the shell of my ear as he whispered: