Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers
Chapter 73: Jab…

Chapter 73: Jab...

**~ Caspian’s POV ~**

What in the name of the Crescent is happening...?

I stood in the aftermath, heart pounding, eyes stuck on Hazel’s collapsed body like it had personally betrayed me. Lilith lay nearby unmoving. Not a sound. Not a single breath from her chest. I didn’t even know if she was dead or just passed out, but something inside me twisted at the thought that maybe she was gone.

But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

Hazel...,My mate. My everything. Cold. Unfeeling. Gone.

She wasn’t Hazel anymore. She was something else.

I turned toward Aurora, who was still steadying herself after stopping Hazel’s attack. She nodded. We didn’t need to speak. We knew what we had to do.

Cayden moved first, dropping to his knees beside Hazel, pressing his fingers to her neck. "Still breathing," he muttered. "She’s alive."

Alive—but barely holding on.

I reached down and scooped her up in my arms, her body limp like she’d been drained of everything. Her head lolled against my shoulder. For a moment, just one damn second, I thought I saw a flicker of recognition in her closed eyes...but no. Just more emptiness.

"She’s not gone," Cayden said.

"I know," I replied, tightening my grip. "Lily almost brought her back. That’s the only reason Hazel would’ve fought her. She was close. Too close. That means we’re getting somewhere."

Cayden didn’t argue. He just nodded, letting the idea become his own. I didn’t blame him. We didn’t have time for pride. We didn’t have time for anything but survival.

Aurora helped me steady Hazel as we moved fast, slipping through the High House halls, avoiding anyone who might question us. I chose our Her chamber Because if anything was going to wake her up, it was this room. The place where she spent most of her days in here in the high house.

She lived in this room. She loved in this room.

Maybe... maybe it could remind her of who she was.

We laid her down gently on the bed. I brushed a strand of hair from her face, just like I used to when she fell asleep in my arms. The softness was still there. Somewhere.

I just had to find it again.

"I brought some things," I said.

Cayden and Aurora turned to me. I pulled a small bag from the corner of the room and opened it carefully.

Inside—Ariel’s favorite toy.

The little doll with crooked button eyes and tangled red yarn hair. This is the little sister favorite toy..

That doll had been found beside Ariel’s body.

I stared at it for a second too long, and then placed it beside Hazel’s hand.

"The Gilberts are holding funerals today," I said quietly. "Both Marcus and Ariel have been confirmed dead."

Aurora looked down, eyes heavy.

Cayden swallowed hard clenching his fingers in regret.

"Natasha’s been arrested," I continued. "So have the rest of them. They’re all rotting in that cell right now."

I reached into the bag again, this time pulling out one of Hazel’s old sweaters. Worn, faded, still smelling faintly like cinnamon and vanilla. She wore it back when she lived in her father’s house before all of this. Before me. .

Maybe these pieces of her life would break through the numbness.

"Come on," I whispered. "Come back to me..."

Cayden stepped closer, folding his arms across his chest. "We’ve already lost half of the pack."

My jaw clenched.

"I know," I said. "I know."

He wasn’t exaggerating. Between the witches’ ambush and Hazel’s outburst, dozens of wolves had fallen. Dahlia’s traps. Hazel’s power spike. View the correct content at NovelFire

If word got out... that Blue Moon was this vulnerable? That we didn’t have enough warriors left to guard the gate?

We’d be challenged.

Cayden said it softly. "Other packs will come. They’ll think we’re weak. They’ll challenge us—challenge you."

I stood, turning toward him slowly.

"They already tried," I growled. "Remember? When they found out our mate was human or so we thought. They teamed up with witches. Came to the High House."

I pointed toward the wall—the one still blackened with the blood of traitors.

"And what happened?" I asked. "We burned them. Tore them apart. Made an example of them."

"They wouldn’t dare try again," Cayden murmured.

"They might," Aurora said. "But if they do, they’ll regret it."

We all looked at Hazel.

So still. So quiet.

I reached down and took her hand, curling it around the doll.

"You’re going to wake up," I told her. "You’re going to open those eyes, slap me across the face, and call me a dramatic bastard. I’m counting on it."

Hazel coughed—and Cayden immediately vanished from the room, like he knew. Like he knew this part was mine to handle.

This was my moment. My last chance to pull her back before we both broke.

I walked toward her with slow steps, lifting two gowns in my hands—one soft and small, the other worn and old. Ariel’s. And hers.

Hazel squinted as her eyes fluttered open, her expression unreadable. She pinched the bridge of her nose, then slammed her palm across her face in what looked like mock disappointment.

"This is the second time you people are trying dumb tricks to switch me back on," she said with a dark chuckle. "Really? Holding up these two dresses, and I’m supposed to magically flip my emotions back on?"

Her gaze darted to the smaller gown.

"Ariel’s dress..?," she said flatly.

"She was wearing it when she died."

Her voice was still cold, but I saw something twitch in her face—something that looked like a crack. A shadow of pain. But it vanished just as fast.

I lifted the other dress. "And this... is yours. The one you wore most of your life at the Gilbert home."

She scoffed. "So? Why are you giving me information I already know? It’s not like I’ve forgotten my own wardrobe."

I ignored the jab. "Ariel is being buried today."

Hazel’s posture stiffened.

I took a step closer. "If you turn it back on your emotions...I’ll take you to her funeral. You can say goodbye. One last goodbye, before they lay her to rest. But if you don’t... then you’ll never get to say anything. Never again."

I hated how manipulative it sounded. It was manipulation. But we had no choice anymore. We had to be selfish. We had to drag her out of this darkness, even if it meant breaking her.

She shivered slightly.

"Bury?" Her voice cracked—just once. Then fire. "How dare you bury her without my consent? Without asking for my validation? You don’t get to just bury my sister without me!"

I nodded slowly. "It’s too late, Hazel. In thirty minutes... the ground will be closed. There will be no going back."

She smirked.

"Well, even if I turned it on," she said mockingly, "I’d wake up just to become a crying mess again. Back to mourning. Back to being weak. What’s the point?" She waved a hand lazily. "It’s better like this. I don’t need a funeral. She’s already dead. I can’t bring her back."

I stared at her in disbelief. My lips parted slightly. I couldn’t believe she’d just said that.

She snapped her fingers and leaned forward, a seductive grin curling on her lips.

"Wow," she purred. "Did you know you look so hot in a tuxedo like this? Bright blue..matches your eyes perfectly."

She bit her finger playfully, her other hand toying with her hair as her gaze dragged up and down my body.

"Ariel’s being buried," I said sharply. "Your sister. Your blood. And you’re here... flirting with me?"

She rolled her eyes, unfazed. "Mmm, your voice gets even sexier when you’re furious. I’m used to you being calm. All collected and alpha-like. But this...?" She stood from the bed slowly. "I’ve never really paid attention to your angry side. Now, that is fun."

"Stay away from me," I warned, stretching my hand out to keep her back.

She smirked, amused. "Stay away from you? Did you forget you’re my husband? My mate? You used to call me darling, remember?"

She stepped closer, her eyes glinting with something dark.

"So... darling," she said mockingly, "get angry again. Yell at me. Scream. Because if you don’t, I’m not letting you leave this room."

I turned toward the exit—but the door wouldn’t budge.

I spun back around and saw the keys... in her hand.

She held them up and jingled them with a sly grin.

"So," she said, her tone sweet and deadly, "you either cooperate with me... or there’s no leaving. At all."