Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers novel Chapter 129

Chapter 129: Young Lilith I

*~ Young Lilith’s POV*~

The night came faster than I had expected, and honestly, it left me unsettled. I hadn’t done anything worthwhile all day. I spent most of the hours wandering the house, pretending to help my mother with chores while my mind chased itself in circles.

I hadn’t gone to the Wolf Academy, and I hadn’t seen Marcus either. In truth, I was avoiding him. News of my premature awakening must have already spread, and I didn’t know how I’d face him. What would I say? What would he think? My chest tightened every time I imagined the look in his eyes. So I hid away, keeping myself busy with meaningless little tasks, trying to silence the storm inside me.

When night fell, I tried to act normal. My mother was still hovering around me, suspicious as ever, her sharp eyes searching my face for answers. She knew my father had said something to me, and nothing ever passed her nose without a sniff.

But I kept my lips sealed. I couldn’t give her the truth—didn’t even have the words for it myself. So I feigned ignorance, smiled when I needed to, and pretended as though the weight in my chest was nothing more than the ache of a long day.

Finally, I retreated to my room and closed the door behind me, heart hammering. Midnight came, and with it, a gentle knock on my door. My pulse jumped. I knew without doubt it was my father.

I slipped into a gown...my nightdress felt too revealing to step outside in—and padded quietly to the door. When I opened it, there he was, standing exactly where we had sat the previous night. His face was half-shadowed, but the hard set of his jaw was visible even in the dark. Without a word, he gestured for me to follow, pointing toward the waiting carriage at the edge of the path.

I obeyed, my bare feet brushing against the cool ground as I hurried after him. Inside the carriage, I sat beside him, trying not to tremble.

It was then that I noticed it—his aura. My father’s presence had always been one of strength: cold, calculated, and impossibly sharp, like a blade honed to perfection. But tonight... tonight he seemed restless. His hands clenched and unclenched against his knees, his body stiff as though it carried a secret too heavy to bear. And unless my eyes deceived me, I swore I could see the glint of sweat beading at his temple.

My father never sweated.

The unease in my stomach deepened. I pinched the hem of my dress between my fingers, holding on tightly, hoping it would keep me steady. I forced myself to breathe slowly, gently, evenly—anything to keep my nerves from unraveling.

The carriage rolled on for what felt like hours. The rhythmic creak of the wheels and the occasional jolt of the road only made my heart pound harder. Time blurred, the night stretching endlessly, until I realized that dawn couldn’t be far off.

I turned to him at last, silently asking the question I dared not voice. Where are we going? Why does this feel so wrong?

He met my eyes briefly, and though he didn’t speak, I knew he understood what I was asking. His silence said enough.

Because when I looked out the small window, I saw the sign.

We were leaving New Orleans.

My heart skipped. My father wasn’t just taking me out for a meeting. He was taking me away—away from my town, away from everything I had ever known.

Why?

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t demand answers. My throat felt locked, my thoughts tangled. All I could do was sit there as the carriage carried me into the unknown, my father’s tension pressing against me like a second skin.

And then, finally, after what felt like forever, the carriage slowed. The horses snorted, hooves clattering against gravel. My chest tightened as the wheels came to a stop.

"We’re here," he said, his voice low.

I stepped down from the carriage, my feet landing on unfamiliar ground, my breath caught somewhere between fear and curiosity.

The moment my feet touched the ground, my wolf screamed inside me. Danger.

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