Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers
Chapter 48: Bad choice

Chapter 48: Bad choice

*~Author’s POV ~*

The carriage moved slowly along the worn forest path. Inside, Aurora sat upright, flipping through a spellbook as glowing runes danced at her fingertips. Hazel sat beside her, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering silent comfort. Though the ride was calm, tension clung to the air like mist.

Behind them Blue moon wolfs stationed there to ensure Hazel’s safety. Just as Elder O’Brien had ordered, she was being moved from the High House—supposedly for her own good. The Council had agreed. Hazel hadn’t.

And maybe... they were all wrong.

The carriage gave a sudden jolt.

A sharp thud echoed beneath the wheels, and the driver cursed as the horses neighed, rearing slightly. Aurora’s spell flickered out.

"What was that?" she muttered, snapping her book shut.

The driver twisted in his seat. "A rock, I think. I’ll check." He hopped down and approached the obstruction cautiously.

Then—whizz!

An arrow flew from the shadows. The driver caught it just in time, inches from his chest. His eyes widened.

A second arrow struck him dead through the side. He dropped.

Aurora’s eyes darkened. "Hazel, up! Now!"

Hazel jolted awake as Aurora dragged her from the carriage. The forest had gone silent—but not empty.

"Versa," Aurora whispered, and a glowing force-shield burst around them.

Then, from the woods, they emerged.

First, five cloaked figures—witches. But behind them came another: an older woman, cloaked in black, long dark hair draping over her shoulders like a veil.

Hazel gasped. Aurora’s breath caught.

"Dahlia," she hissed.

But it wasn’t just the witches.

Another figure stepped forward.

A man they knew.

"Elder O’Brien," Aurora said in disbelief.

Hazel’s blood ran cold. The wolves guarding them shifted to human form, surrounding her protectively. But it was too late.

O’Brien laughed bitterly. "Imagine that. Alpha Cayden actually threw his own mate out, just like I said he would. And Caspian—Beta Caspian, of all people—how disappointing. All it took was one simple trick to lure her out."

Aurora’s voice was low and firm. "So this is where you got the herbs. From her."

She nodded toward Dahlia.

The old witch smirked, her voice sharp as broken glass. "And there’s the little imposter witch. Should’ve died long ago. Now you will—along with the abomination you’re protecting."

Hazel trembled as Aurora stepped in front of her protectively. "I’ll protect her with my life," Aurora snapped.

Dahlia’s smirk deepened. "Your life? Sweetheart... you’re already dying."

Aurora’s body convulsed. Blood gushed from her mouth. She dropped to one knee.

"Aurora?!" Hazel cried out, crouching beside her.

"I should’ve known," Aurora gasped. "The coffin... Hazel, run."

"I’m not leaving you—"

"I said run!" Aurora clutched her side. Her eyes flicked black. "I’ll have to use dark magic."

"No!"

"Don’t worry," she said with a shaky grin. "Dark magic has always been my plaything."

Then she whispered the word again, louder, fiercer: "Versa."

Her veins turned black. Her body stiffened, rising slowly from the ground, dark power leaking from every pore. She looked at Dahlia, her mouth bleeding but her stare unshaken.

"I would love to see you try," she spat.

From the woods, growls erupted. The witches took their positions. The wolves bared their teeth.

Hazel turned to run.

She barely took a step when the five cloaked figures behind Dahlia lunged forward, sprinting toward them with terrifying speed. Before Hazel could scream, Aurora stepped in front of her, arms raised.

Behind them, chaos erupted.

O’Brien shifted into a massive black wolf with glowing red eyes, growling low. The wolves who had been secretly guarding Hazel abandoned the shadows and burst forward—shifting midair into their human or wolf forms as they charged into battle.

Claws clashed. Spells exploded. Screams rang through the trees.

Hazel stood frozen behind it all, her back pressed against the shattered carriage. Her vision blurred. Her limbs wouldn’t move. Something was weighing her down—not physically, but spiritually—like the earth itself was gripping her ankles.

Aurora’s voice echoed, but Hazel couldn’t make out the words anymore.

Every sound was muffled.

Every breath felt stolen.

The fighting swirled around her like a nightmare—Aurora holding off two witches at once, wolves battling unknown beasts, and O’Brien tearing through their defenses like a monster unleashed. Hazel could barely think. She felt heavy, like she was melting into the air.

And then it happened.

A sharp, twisting pain shot through her belly—deep, primal, excruciating.

She gasped and fell to her knees. Blood pooled underneath her in seconds.

Her mouth opened to scream, but instead, she choked. Thick, dark blood poured from her lips.

"No—no, no, no," she sobbed, both hands clutching her stomach. "My baby—please—no—"

Then came her voice.

"Don’t worry," Dahlia crooned from the chaos, stepping out like a queen in the center of war. "I’m simply observing the power. We’re doing each other good, really."

Hazel’s head snapped up. Dahlia was gliding toward her through the fight, untouched, unfazed, her eyes locked like a predator finally sinking its teeth into prey.

"Come here," she whispered. "Come to me."

Hazel didn’t move.

She couldn’t move.

But her body did.

As if yanked by invisible chains, Hazel was lifted off the ground and slammed hard onto her knees before Dahlia. The witch smiled sweetly as she gripped Hazel by the throat.

Hazel gasped, struggling, blood dripping down her legs and mouth. Dahlia tilted her head, examining her like a specimen.

"You’re so full of it," she whispered. "This life. This seed. This... power."

Then it began.

Dark light burst from Hazel’s chest.

Ashes—black, glowing, humming—streamed from her mouth, her eyes, her ears, her very womb. Dahlia’s mouth opened, and the energy poured into her like she was drinking Hazel’s very soul.

Hazel screamed, but it came out garbled and choked with blood. Her entire body convulsed, her hands twitching, her limbs flailing, as more and more of the power was stolen from her.

Blood gushed from every opening—her mouth, her nose, even her eyes.

"No—stop—please!" she cried, but it was useless.

Dahlia’s smile only widened.

Then, finally, it stopped.

Hazel’s body crumpled to the ground like a rag doll. She was still breathing—but barely. Her stomach was soaked in red. Her dress torn. Her body cold.

The forest had gone quiet again.

And Dahlia?

She stood taller now.

Her skin began to glow.

Her posture straightened. Her grey hair morphed into long, thick, golden strands. Her wrinkles faded. Her eyes—bright, venomous green shimmered like emeralds. The crooked, hunched old witch transformed before their eyes into something young, regal... deadly.

Dahlia ran her fingers through her new hair and exhaled, satisfied. "Ahhh. That’s more like it. I haven’t felt this alive in... centuries."

Hazel, barely conscious, watched through half-lidded eyes. Her voice cracked.

"You... killed my baby."

Dahlia looked down, unapologetic. "Of course I did. It was the only way to get what was growing inside you. That child... that abomination... held more power than any artifact I’ve ever touched."

She crouched beside Hazel, her perfect skin gleaming in the moonlight. "Don’t worry. You’ll probably survive. But you’ll never carry another. Everything inside you now belongs to me." f.(r)eew ebnov\ll.com

Hazel’s lips quivered. She couldn’t even cry. The pain was too big for tears.

From a distance, Aurora screamed her name—but it sounded so far away.

She was shaking. She was freezing.

She was empty.

I told them not to send me away, she thought. I told Cayden. I told Caspian. I didn’t want to leave.

She looked up at the sky, blurry and dark.

And as her eyes fluttered shut, she whispered

"Everything’s... gone."