Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers
Chapter 82: Beer

Chapter 82: Beer

**~ Cayden’s POV ~**

I haven’t felt rage like this before. Not ever.

Lilith just said it—my babies are around.

The moment the word "twins" left her mouth, something cracked open inside me. It wasn’t just relief. It wasn’t just shock. It was something deeper, something primal—like the roar of a father who’s never even laid eyes on his children but already knows he’d tear the world apart for them.

A boy and a girl. Two tiny lives. Two souls I never got to meet, never got to hold. And yet, I could already see them in my mind—their tiny hands wrapped around my finger, their breaths soft against my chest. That image alone nearly brought me to my knees.

My pack. My territory. And my children had been here the entire time.

A growl tore from my throat before I could stop it, loud and guttural. The Elites flinched. I didn’t care. "Let’s find them," I snarled. "Now."

But no one moved.

Lilith turned slowly toward Caspian. "You have to be careful," she said. "There’s a ritual happening around them. A sacrifice. The witches are guarding the place—you can’t just barge in. Not with this kind of emotion. You’ll ruin everything."

I didn’t care. I was ready to tear through every witch in this damn city if it meant I could touch my babies.

But then Lilith looked at Caspian again. "You... you’ll go," she said quietly. "You’re calmer. You can think."

I wanted to argue, to scream, but even I knew she was right. I was shaking, unstable, ready to burn everything down. Caspian, on the other hand, was still. Focused. His eyes flicked to me and softened for a second.

"I’ll bring them back," he promised. "I swear it, Cayden. I’ll bring your son and daughter home."

Lilith turned toward me this time. Her voice dropped. "And you... you better be ready to be a father to them. A real one."

I nodded, swallowing the fire in my chest as Caspian handed her a folded map. She laid it out flat and traced a path across the city. "They’re here," she said, tapping the spot. "Deep in the witch district, underground. It’s dangerous."

Caspian memorized the route, then folded the map and tucked it into his jacket. He gave me one last look—one of those wordless, brotherly looks that held a promise inside it..

And then he was gone.

Leon, Aurora, and dozens of wolves followed after him. The high house door shut behind them, and all I could do was stand there in the silence, fists clenched heart thundering.

Hazel still looked paranoid. Even though she was back—her emotions, her eyes, her voice—something about her felt fragile, like glass still hot from the fire, ready to crack if touched too soon.

I walked up to her anyway.

Things were... bad between us. And honestly? I didn’t think being "on good terms" was ever going to be enough. We need a very good relationship —if we were going to raise those babies together. Properly. As a real mother and father should.

Our babies. Still out there somewhere. I didn’t know what they looked like yet... I didn’t even know if they’d be warm when I held them again.

I turned to her slowly. Her eyes lifted to meet mine, tired and wary but locked in. A small silence stretched between us.

"Caspian will bring them back. I know it." She said nothing, but I could feel her heart clenching behind her chest.

"Let’s just not... delete them. Not yet," I murmured, voice hoarse. "Join me at the rooftop?"

I didn’t wait for her answer. I didn’t even know if what I said made sense. Words were slipping out of me like air from a cracked balloon—hollow, breathless, directionless. I turned and walked away, hoping she’d follow.

I reached the rooftop and sat down slowly, the wind tugging at my shirt, the night already settling over the kingdom like a veil. I cracked open a beer, not because I needed it, but because it gave my fingers something to do. Something that wasn’t shaking.

We would throw a ceremony for the twins soon. Maybe a naming one. Maybe something deeper. They deserved more than silence.

And then my ear catch... The softest inhale. A breath just behind me. She came.

That one sound, that single breath... it reminded me too much. Of the last time. The way her body melted into mine, the way her mouth gasped and groaned, how sweet she tasted when her walls came down.

Despite doing it with Caspian... she’d satisfied me.

"The rooftop seems to be your happy place," Hazel said softly as she stepped up beside me. Her voice was quieter than usual, more thoughtful, and I glanced over at her with a small nod.

"It is," I murmured, passing her the bottle of beer I’d been nursing. She gave me that skeptical look—the one she always gave when she thought I was up to something.

"You’re not pregnant anymore," I teased with a light chuckle, trying to ease the tension. "Loosen up a little."

She hesitated, then finally took the bottle from me. The moment the bitter liquid touched her tongue, her face scrunched up and she coughed into her hand.

"Hey, hey—careful." I chuckled again, patting her gently on the back as she wiped her mouth.

She nodded, still catching her breath, and then turned to me fully. "Cayden..." Her eyes found mine, wide and honest. "I’m sorry. For calling you a monster."

I blinked, surprised by the apology. "Oh—no, it’s okay. I mean—"

"No, no," she said more firmly, reaching out to grab my hand. She squeezed it tightly, grounding herself. "I should’ve never judged without knowing what you were going through. I was hurt. I let that pride blind me. And for that... I’m sorry."

My chest tightened, not because of pain—but because for the first time in a long time, we were talking. Actually talking.

I exhaled deeply. "Hazel... I know me and you... we’ll probably never be anything more. I mean, not in the way you want. Not in the way Caspian wants. I know you’ll never see me as your husband... and I’ll never really have you as my wife."

Her gaze didn’t drop. She listened.

"I killed your sister. I killed your father," I said, the words scraping my throat raw. "There’s too much blood between us. Too many wounds. But if there’s anything I want from you—anything I beg of you—it’s just this: let’s be... something good for our babies. We don’t need to love each other. But we have to give them peace."

She nodded slowly. Her lips parted like she was about to speak, but no words came. Just that same slow, understanding nod.

"Yeah," she finally breathed. "We wouldn’t want to be screaming at each other in front of them. Teaching them all our bad habits."

I smiled—genuinely—for the first time that evening. "Yeah. I already made you a good mother."

She tilted her head with a mock smirk. "And it’s your turn to be a good father."

"I’m trying," I said, raising my bottle in surrender. "But you—" I pointed at her with a grin. "You better not be drinking beers around my babies."

She laughed at that, and so did I.

"The beer is just for tonight," I promised, holding up the nearly empty bottle. "Just tonight."

"How strong is it?" she asked, inspecting it like it might bite.

"Strong enough that if you down three bottles, you’ll be trying to lift the whole damn High House," I said with a chuckle.

"Well, good," she muttered, snatching the bottle from my hand. "I need something to calm my nerves. I don’t want to break down before Caspian even walks in with them. I can’t be an emotional wreck."

She didn’t wait for permission. She tipped the bottle back and let it all go down.

I opened my mouth to stop her—half-heartedly—but then closed it again. Maybe she did need this moment.