Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers
Chapter 71: Turn it on…

Chapter 71: Turn it on...

*~ Author’s POV~*

Hazel sat still for a long moment. Her wrists throbbed against the iron cuffs, skin red and raw from struggling. The silence between her and Lilith hung thick—dense like a fog that refused to lift.

Then suddenly... she laughed.

Not softly. Not bitterly.

She chuckled—a loud, eerie, hollow sound that echoed off the stone walls of the chamber. It was jarring, out of place. It didn’t belong to the Hazel who used to tremble under pressure. This was something... colder.

"So," she said through the lingering laugh, "you wiped my father’s love for me. Just... erased it like a bad Chapter in a book."

Lilith flinched, stepping back a little.

Hazel tilted her head. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. "You made him forget me. And for what? For safety? For some prophecy you won’t even explain?" Her voice dropped, low and sharp. "Was it worth it?"

Lilith opened her mouth. "Hazel, I—"

"Don’t." Hazel cut her off, voice like steel. "Don’t say you did it out of love."

Lilith stepped forward, desperate. "I had no choice. You were born during a Crescent eclipse. The Pack would’ve killed you if they knew. And Marcus—he would’ve died protecting you. I was trying to save both of you."

"But you didn’t save me," Hazel snapped. "You made me nothing. You buried me alive in a human shell. You let me believe I was worthless for years."

Lilith’s breath hitched. "I thought if you were safe, it wouldn’t matter."

"Well, it mattered."

Hazel’s voice dropped into a chilling calm, eyes glassy but dead. "You should’ve just left me with him. At least he would’ve loved me before they destroyed us."

That did it.

Lilith’s face crumpled like paper. Tears pooled in her eyes, and without a word, she turned and fled from the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall. She collapsed in the corner of the corridor, burying her face in her hands.

Her emotions aren’t back... she’s not herself, Lilith whispered to herself. This isn’t her. Her soul is still closed off. She doesn’t mean it.

She rocked slightly, trying to breathe. "Lilith... calm down. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. It’s the seal. It’s the trauma. She’s not really gone, she’s not—"

CRASH!

The sound jolted through the hallway like a gunshot. Lilith’s head snapped up.

"No..."

She scrambled to her feet and sprinted back to the chamber. When she reached the doorway, her heart stopped.

Hazel was still in the center of the room, but the metal cuffs that had chained her down for days were shattered on the floor—snapped clean in half like they were nothing more than brittle twigs.

Hazel stood with one arm stretched forward, twisting her wrist with an annoyed grimace.

"Argh. This chain is hard," she muttered, flicking the remaining iron cuff off her hand like it was a toy.

Lilith froze.

Hazel looked up, her eyes flashing—not blue. Not gray.

But a dim, molten gold.

Not glowing fully yet, but pulsing. Brewing. Awakening.

Lilith stepped forward slowly. "Hazel..."

But Hazel didn’t flinch. Her tone was light. Mocking.

"Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not gonna hurt you."

She smiled again, that same empty smile. "Not unless you give me a reason to." NovelFire

Lilith stood tall now, back straight, eyes locked on her daughter like she was staring down a loaded weapon.

She braced herself.

"I’m your mother," she said slowly, every word weighted like iron. "Don’t forget that."

Her voice shook—but it wasn’t fear. It was resolve. Her bones ached from the years, the lies, the secrets—but her wolf stirred beneath her skin, pacing, growling.

Because she knew what was coming.

Hazel tilted her head with a crooked smile. "Oh? So you’re really about to fight me?"

Her voice was sweet—too sweet.

A mocking lullaby soaked in poison.

Lilith’s claws pushed out with a soft shink, and her canines sharpened until they jutted from her lips. Her stance shifted into defense. Not offense. Never offense—not against her own child.

Hazel’s golden eyes gleamed. "Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t fight you."

She stepped forward, dragging her fingertips across the broken chain links still scattered on the floor.

"That would be mad disrespectful," she said, grinning now. "But still... you’re in my way. And I don’t like obstacles."

Lilith’s breath caught. There was something different in Hazel’s voice—too composed. Too calm.

Almost... detached.

"You’re too close," Hazel added, her tone suddenly colder. "Too close to bringing back my dumbass humanity. And I’m done with it. I don’t want guilt. I don’t want love. I want freedom."

Lilith’s stomach twisted.

"Which is why I’m giving you a choice," Hazel continued, folding her arms. "Turn it off...your emotions. Join me in this silence. Be free like me. Those damn emotions wont be a burden again."

She took another step forward, and for a split second, her power hummed. Not just Crescent magic... something older, deeper and definitely not to be tampered with.

"Or..." Hazel said softly, "Die a peaceful death. Don’t worry. It won’t hurt."

Lilith’s jaw clenched. Her wolf snarled low in her chest.

Peaceful death, she thought. Her own daughter offering it like a gift.

But turning off her emotions? That wasn’t an option.

Not when she still had a mission.

Not when she needed the child. Needed the power. Needed the Crescent bloodline to rise again.

She exhaled through her nose and slowly rolled her neck. Her bones cracked. Her wolf fully surfaced, cloaking her in an aura of dark heat and ancient fury.

"I was here before you even thought of existing," she said, a smirk crawling onto her lips. "You think I’m just some mother with regrets and lullabies? No, Hazel."

Her eyes flashed. A silvery burn spread through her veins.

"You’re strong. But I’m the storm you were born into."

She took a step forward now, power clashing against Hazel’s like wind meeting wildfire.

"You can’t take me down that easily, dear," she whispered. Hazel narrowed her eyes.

Lilith’s smirk widened. "You’ll learn why my name still sends shivers down spines in this world. Why Lilith isn’t a story...they made me a warning."

Then, she leaned closer.

"Turn it on, Hazel," she whispered. "Because mother knows best."