Sacrificed To The Triplet Alpha Kings

”We looked her in the eye and told her we’d clear her father’s name, knowing full well what actually happened that night. Knowing the truth would destroy whatever hope we just handed her.”

”And what would you have preferred?” Sebastian asked, leaning forward slightly. ”That we tell her the truth instead? That her father had nothing to do with what happened to ours, and that we let an innocent man’s execution stand uncorrected for four months because it was convenient? That the real culprit is still walking free because exposing them would unravel alliances we’ve spent years building?” His voice hardened slightly. ”Tell me how that conversation goes better than the one we had.”

Lucian said nothing, his jaw working silently.

”We made a choice,” Sebastian continued, quieter now. ”We chose to give her something to hold onto instead of the truth that would break her further. Maybe that makes us cowards. Maybe it makes us exactly as ruthless as everyone already believes we are. But it’s done. She said yes. She’s coming with us tomorrow, and whatever guilt any of us carries about how we got here, it doesn’t change what happens next.”

”It changes what we owe her,” Lucian said quietly. ”If we’re going to lie to her about something this big, the least we can do is make sure everything else we give her is real. The protection. The care for her mother. All of it needs to be real, because this..” He gestured vaguely, as if trying to grasp the shape of the lie itself. ”This is going to be a debt we carry for as long as she doesn’t know the truth.”

Nicholas moved away from the window and sat down slowly in the chair across from Sebastian, his expression unusually contemplative. ”He’s right,” he said, glancing toward Sebastian. ”Everything else we give her has to be absolute. No half measures. No convenient promises we don’t intend to keep.” His silver eyes hardened slightly. ”The moment she suspects we’ve lied to her about anything else, the moment she catches even a hint of insincerity anywhere near this, we lose whatever trust we’re trying to build. And once that trust is gone, I don’t know if we can get it back.”

”So we bury it,” Lucian said. ”We bury the truth so deep that she never has reason to look for it.”

”We bury it,” Nicholas confirmed, ”and we spend every day after this making sure she never regrets choosing us, even without knowing everything she chose.”

The fire crackled softly between them, the weight of the conversation settling into something heavier, quieter.

”She did choose us,” Sebastian said after a moment, something almost wondering in his voice. ”This morning. Did either of you notice that? She didn’t just accept what we told her. She stood there and told us she was choosing this. On her own terms, inside a situation neither of us gave her any real freedom to reject.” He shook his head slowly. ”I’ve spent years watching women fear us, resent us, submit to us because they had no other option. I don’t think I’ve ever watched someone claim a decision as their own the way she did this morning.”

”She’s stronger than either of us gave her credit for,” Nicholas admitted quietly.

Lucian’s expression softened, some of the earlier frustration fading into something gentler. ”I touched her face this morning,” he said, almost to himself. ”Really touched her. Not out of hunger, not out of the need to mark her as ours. Just...touched her. Like she was something worth being careful with.” He looked up at his brothers. ”I don’t know if either of you understand what that felt like. My control has never been good enough for anything gentle. Not until her.”

Sebastian’s expression gentled. ”I understand it better than you think.”

”So do I,” Nicholas said quietly.

For a while, none of them spoke, each lost in their own version of the same thought, the woman sleeping somewhere in the omega quarters tonight, packing whatever small collection of belongings she’d accumulated across a lifetime of having very little, preparing to leave everything she’d ever known because three strangers had told her the Moon Goddess demanded it of her.

”Nine days until the full moon,” Nicholas said finally, breaking the silence. ”We need to be careful with her between now and then. The curse will start pulling at us the closer we get to it, you both know how it manifests in the days leading up. We cannot afford to lose control around her before the claiming is properly done, in the right place, under the right circumstances.”

”I know,” Lucian said, some of his earlier tension returning, though it was different now...controlled, deliberate. ”I’ve felt it building already. Small things. My temper shorter than usual. The pull toward her sharper every day.”

”We’ll manage it,” Sebastian said. ”We’ve managed worse.”

”We’ve never had a mate to manage it around before,” Nicholas pointed out quietly. ”This will be different. She’ll see parts of us during the journey and after we arrive at Blackwood that she hasn’t seen yet. Parts that aren’t as controlled as what she witnessed here.” His silver eyes moved between his brothers. ”She needs to understand what she’s walking into before the moon forces it on her without warning.”

”We’ll tell her,” Sebastian said. ”On the journey. Give her time to prepare for what’s coming, rather than let her be blindsided when we arrive.”

Nicholas nodded slowly, satisfied with that answer. He stood again, moving back toward the window, looking out over the darkened compound one final time. Somewhere out there, beyond the guest wing, beyond the emptying courtyard where the last of the Summit’s decorations had finally come down, Lilith was spending her final hours in the only home she’d ever known.

”Tomorrow, everything changes,” he said quietly, more to himself than to his brothers. ”Not just for her. For us.” He turned back to face them, his expression unusually open, unusually unguarded.