Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers - Chapter 201

Chapter 201: Marcus
*~Hazel’s POV~*

“Oh sure I can,” Dahlia sneered. “Watching you lose tonight is the greatest pleasure I’ll ever know. You losers will leave here with your heads bowed in pain… because I’ll kill myself—and every vampire alive.”

She was backing away as we slowly closed the gap between us.

But she finally halted, her back hitting the wall behind her. Nowhere left to run. I saw it—real fear in her eyes. Dahlia never showed fear. Seeing it shimmer in her gaze made my blood sing.

And I wanted more.

She moved subtly, fingers creeping toward the necklace resting against her chest. I didn’t wait. I lunged.

In one swift motion, I grabbed her wrist, summoned my claws, and sliced. Three fingers fell to the ground.

“AAAHH!” Dahlia screamed, staggering backward and collapsing to her knees. She clutched her mutilated hand as thick, dark blue blood gushed from the wound—unnatural, not close to normal.

“What have you done?!” she wailed.

“I told you,” I said coldly. “You won’t cast a single damn spell again.”

But even in pain, she smiled through gritted teeth. “You think cutting off my fingers stops me? You’ve only made me more vengeful. And trust me, you do not want to see what I become when I’m angry.”

“Oh, please. Snap her head off already,” Lilith said from behind me.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Alice smirked. “Let’s watch her suffer.”

Lilith gave a dark nod. “Mmm. Let’s give her a taste of her own medicine.”

They stepped forward, ready to finish it, but I raised my hand. “No. Let me do it. Directly.”

I grabbed Dahlia by the throat and began to squeeze. Her legs kicked. Black veins pulsed across her face as her breath struggled to come.

Her voice rasped through clenched teeth. “Hazel… I curse you. Your babies will be powerless. They will be nothing more than weak, screaming humans.”

She turned her dying gaze to me. “Hazel… you will never know joy. Your happiness will rot before your eyes.”

Crack. I snapped her neck.

Her body slumped to the ground—and began to dry, like a husk in the sun. Her skin cracked and flaked. Then she dissolved entirely… until only her cloak remained.

“Is she… dead?” Klaus asked behind me.

“I hope so,” I muttered. The curse she placed on me was ringing in my ears but I shoved it aside. She is dead. That means nothing.

But Lilith pushed past me, kneeling by what remained. She pulled something from inside the folds of the cloak. A paper. She unfolded it, eyes scanning.

“What’s that?” I asked. She handed it to me.

Alice squinted over my shoulder. “Looks like… a map?”

“A map?” I repeated.

“Maybe it’s where she hid the vampires,” Alice said, shrugging.

“We need to get there fast,” Lilith added. “But even if we do find them, what do we do? We can’t just command a bunch of wild vampires. And if we want to sacrifice them, we need all of them in one place.”

I frowned. “Who can control them?”

Silence.

Then I whispered, “Cyrius. He’s the only one who ever had that kind of influence.”

“But he’s not here,” Lilith said. “And there’s no telling when—or if—he’ll wake up.”

“So… our next option is…” Lilith trailed off.

We all said it together.

“The babies.”

I froze.

“The babies?” I repeated, voice rising. “They’re just—babies! They’re smart, yes, but smart enough to control an entire crowd of bloodthirsty vampires? Are you hearing yourselves?!”

Alice looked at me, her own concern showing. But Lilith stepped forward, placing her hands gently on my shoulders.

“Hazel,” she said, steady and calm. “Let’s just try it out first.”

“I’m with Hazel on this one,” I heard Klaus say, arms folded tight. “Yes, the babies are smart—but are they smart enough to handle the heat of controlling the vampires? I don’t think we should gamble this entire plan on infants. Literal babies.”

“Exactly,” I added. “They’re not even a month old. They still cry when the room gets too bright. How are they supposed to control a crowd of bloodthirsty vampires?”

“You’re underestimating them,” Lilith said, calmly but firmly. “These babies aren’t ordinary. They challenge the natural order. Their mere existence threatens the balance of this world. If anyone can do it—they can.”

Klaus scoffed. “Then why are they still nursing? Why do they need to be cradled to sleep?”

Lilith didn’t flinch. “Yes, they’re small. But you said it yourself—they’re not normal. Power doesn’t need maturity to manifest.”

“They’re not even fully self-aware yet, Lilith. I’m not saying they won’t ever be capable. I’m saying we shouldn’t entrust this mission to them now. We should look for another alternative first.”

He turned to me, eyes hardening. “At least confirm if the map even leads to the vampires. You think Dahlia would just carelessly leave the exact map on her body? That woman planned ten steps. For all we know, this map could lead us into a trap.”

I took a deep breath, then nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

I turned to Alice and Lilith. “Please. Go confirm the location. I’ll work on another route… a backup plan. Something that doesn’t depend on my babies holding the weight of the world.”

They nodded without resistance.

“You can take half the wolves with you,” I added. “Split the strength. Stay alert.”

Lilith gently patted my shoulder before walking off with Alice, already picking wolves to accompany them. I watched until they disappeared into the distance.

“Let’s go home, Father,” I said, turning to Klaus.

He nodded, and without another word, we entered our carriage and rode home in silence.

The High House stood quiet as we arrived—too quiet. My heart pounded for no reason I could name.

I pushed open the front doors and hurried upstairs.

The moment I stepped into the nursery, my chest clenched.

No—my babies were fine. Perfectly normal. Heather was giggling in her crib. Christian, ever serious, blinked up at me without fuss.

But it was the man sitting beside them who made my blood run cold.

“Father…” I whispered, frozen in place.

Klaus stepped beside me. “Yes?”

I shook my head. “Not you.”

He followed my gaze.

There—beside the cribs, with one finger gently poking Heather’s cheek…was Marcus.

My real father.

He was alive. Sitting there like he belonged, like he hadn’t disappeared from our lives in a cloud of pain and silence. Heather was laughing, clutching his finger tight. Christian stared at him, expression unreadable—but he wasn’t crying either.

Marcus looked up at me, eyes warm. Instead of the usual cruelty.

“You’re back,” he said quietly. “How are you doing… daughter?”