Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers
Chapter 78: Danger

Chapter 78: Danger

**~ Cyrius’s POV ~**

I dashed after her, into the crumbling ruins of the old building.

The air inside was thick cold and damp, with the heavy scent of moss and dust. The aura clung to my skin like a warning. Something terrible had happened here before. Maybe magic. Maybe blood. Maybe both.

I adjusted the twins, wrapped in cloth around my back. Their warmth pressed into me, steady and fragile. I kept one hand on them and the other ready at my side.

I spotted her silhouette tucked in the corner.

I moved carefully. Just as I turned around the pillar..

Steel met my throat.

A sharp dagger pressed into my neck, and I froze.

Her breath was shaky. Her brown eyes wide with fear, shimmering with tears—but her hand didn’t tremble. She was scared, yes, but brave.

I reacted quickly.

I knocked the blade aside and shoved her backward. She slammed against the cracked wall with a grunt. I closed the distance between us before she could recover, pinning her with one hand.

And then...Heather cried.

A soft, high-pitched wail. Muffled but undeniable. The girl’s expression twisted in confusion, her gaze darting to the babies strapped against my back.

She hadn’t expected that.

"What do you want?" she whispered, voice trembling, breath shallow.

I stared her down. "Your help," I said, voice low. "You. Your coven. The rest of Dahlia’s witches...what’s left of them."

Her lips parted. "Dahlia?"

"Don’t lie to me," I growled. "I’ve seen her. And you" I glanced her up and down. "You have her eyes. You move like her. You smell like her. You are one of them."

"I.." she started, but I wasn’t in the mood.

I pressed my arm across her throat. Just enough to make her cough.

"I don’t want games. I’ll end you right now. Then I’ll find the others and end them too. So choose wisely. Help me or die."

She gasped. "We..we don’t have anything left!" she choked out. "There’s nothing to help you with! We’ve lost everything. Our powers. Our anchor. Dahlia is dead. Our Queen Mother is gone. Without her, we’re not witches. We’re just women now. Human."

I narrowed my eyes. "You’re lying."

She shook her head, desperate. "You think we want this? You think we chose to live in hiding, powerless? We need her too."

I looked at her for a long moment. My jaw clenched. My fingers flexed against my palm. And then, finally..I spoke.

"I’m on your side."

Her eyebrows knit. "What?"

"I said—I’m on Dahlia’s side," I repeated. "She found me. Woke me from the coffin. Promised to help me become a Crescent. Promised me power. In exchange, I promised her the babies."

Her eyes widened.

She looked past me—toward the twins, now silent but watchful, pressed against my back.

"Are they—?" she whispered.

"Yes," I said. "They’re the prophesied ones. The reason for all of this. And I got them. I kept my word."

She stared at them in awe, as if seeing holy relics. Her lips parted. "Oh my God..."

"I’m not your enemy," I said. "But I will become one if you waste my time."

She looked stunned. Then, suddenly, she straightened back to the wall, eyes alert.

"You can’t stay here," she said quickly. "If what you say is true, they’ll be hunting you. They’ll find you. The High House. The wolves. Everyone."

"I know that already," I muttered.

"No, you don’t," she snapped. "They have scent mages now. Trackers with blood ties. If they catch a whiff of one of those babies, they’ll sniff you out like meat on a hook."

"What do I do?"

She looked over her shoulder—then back to me.

"Leave the city. Now. Lay low. I’ll gather the others. I’ll call a meeting with you."

I narrowed my eyes. "And you expect me to trust you?"

"No," she said honestly. "But what choice do you have?"

I paused.

Fair enough.

She reached up and pulled a necklace from around her neck. It was a simple charm. A black stone, cracked in the center, with a small rune etched onto its surface.

"This," she said, placing it in my palm, "is all we have left of Dahlia’s protection. It doesn’t cast magic anymore. But it carries essence. I’ll enchant it with my own blood. If you wear it, I can find you."

"But you said you lost your powers."

"I said we’re not witches anymore," she said. "I didn’t say we were nothing."

I raised an eyebrow. "You sound a lot like her."

"She raised us," she said softly. "We all sound like her."

I looked down at the stone....Then at her.

"I’ll come," I said. "But only once. If I smell a trap..."

"There won’t be one," she said quickly. "Tonight. I’ll leave a mark at the East Gate wall. A crow’s blood sigil. Follow it. Come alone."

...

I left New Orleans just like she told me to.

Because deep down..I knew she was right.

I couldn’t keep carrying twins around a city where half the population would soon realize their Alpha’s heirs were missing. And not just missing..twins. That alone would set off every siren in the pack. The moment their wolves caught the scent of it, there’d be no more hiding.

So I ran.

I didn’t go far. Just past the edge of the city

just beyond the wards—where the pack border ends and wild forest begins. I didn’t want to go too far, in case something changed. But I needed to stay out of range. Needed to keep them safe.

So I waited.

All day, I stayed hidden beneath the twisted branches of a pine grove. At dusk, I used the time to care for the twins. I fed them coconut milk I’d saved from earlier and managed to change their clothes thanks to a nearby clothing store I’d, well... borrowed from.

Technically, I paid.

Sure, I stole the money.

But I didn’t steal the

Clothes for the babies. That counts for something.

Finally, night fell and it was time.

I pulled the necklace from around my neck the one she gave me and tucked it inside my shirt. I cradled the twins close and sped toward the East Gate wall. But the moment I got near it, my chest tightened.

There were wolves everywhere.

The Blue Moon patrol had already started locking down the border. I could smell their suspicion.

I followed the crow’s blood mark just like she’d told me to and it led me into a thick forest beyond the gate. The deeper I went, the darker it grew.

Then..figures stepped out.

Three of them.

They were masked. Cloaked. Moving like shadows in the dark.

I tensed.

One hand gripped the babies tighter against my chest.

The other hovered near the dagger beneath my cloak.

Then..one of them pulled off her mask.

It was her. The witch from earlier.

"I told you," she said softly, "I’d find you with the necklace. You came."

She turned and gestured.

I followed her in silence, the forest growing denser around us. We moved for several minutes until the path opened—and in front of us was a clearing, lit by firelight.

A small hut stood at the center, encircled by stones, ashes, and glowing runes. The scent of herbs and burnt magic filled the air.

And then they emerged dozens of witches.

From behind trees, from under branches, from the shadows of the hut. All women. Some old, some young. All of them murmuring, eyes flickering with suspicion

One stepped forward.

Her gaze cut through the night.

"No," she said sharply, pointing at me. "This is a trap. This is a Salvatore! He reeks of the High House!"

Whispers spread like wildfire.

Another witch stepped forward, snarling, "You’re one of them, aren’t you? A traitor. You’ll lead the wolves here."

The girl who brought me turned to me slowly, her eyes questioning. "Is it true?"

I lifted my chin. My voice rang out—louder than all their whispers.

"Yes. I’m Cyrius Salvatore."

Gasps. A few staggered steps backward.

"But I’m also the dead one," I said bitterly. "The brother they sealed in a coffin and forgot. And if I wasn’t on your side, why would I be holding one of the most important beings alive? Why would I risk everything to bring my brother’s child to you?"

Silence fell.

All the witches went still.

Even the fire cracked more softly, like it too was listening.

"I’m not your enemy," I said. "I’m with Dahlia. She gave me purpose. She gave me hope. She promised me power, and in return, I brought what she asked for."

The witch beside me lifted her hand.

"I’ve spoken to my coven," she said. "They know your story now. And though we cannot make you a Crescent anymore... we can give you something more."

The fire behind her blazed suddenly...taller, sharper. Runes lit up on the stones. The trees groaned as if listening.

"But first," she said, "we need to be sure."

She pointed to a tree stump in the center of the clearing—half-cut, wide and low, like a ceremonial altar.

"Place the babies there," she said gently.

I froze.

Heather was awake now. Her bright red eyes blinked up at me..sparkling with trust. Her brother, stone-faced as always, scowled like he knew something was off.

There was a knot in my chest.

I didn’t want to let them go.

But I didn’t feel danger here. Not the kind that would harm them. These witches feared them. Revered them. Needed them.

So I stepped forward.

I knelt and gently laid them both on the altar.

Heather smiled up at me. Her tiny fingers reached toward my hand, and I had to blink fast to stop the sting behind my eyes.

The witches surrounded the stump.

One whispered an incantation.Another blew herbs into the air.

And then the lead witch spoke, her voice strong:

"Dahlia had a plan. A vision greater than the Crescents. Greater than the packs. She believed that the old power needed to evolve."

I tensed. "What do you mean?"

"She was working on something. Something ancient. Something forbidden. A ritual to break the limits of Crescent blood. To create beings with both strength and immortality. She was trying to make..."

She turned to me.

"Vampires."

My blood ran cold.

"What?"

"Not just any vampires," she continued. "Originals. Wielders of Crescent blood, magic, and immortal hunger. The first of their kind. Dahlia was building a future that could outlive the wolves. And you—"

She stepped toward me, eyes gleaming.

"You will be the first."