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Chapter 23: Overriding orders

Author: Vera Cassian
last update publish date: 2026-09-13 11:43:56

The ambush came from the ravine, not the wall.

Sloane hadn’t been meant to be anywhere near the eastern boundary that afternoon, she’d gone with a small supply team at Griffin’s reluctant approval, a short, low-risk run to a storage cache half a mile past the main gate, escorted by four wolves including Dax. It was supposed to be simple. Nothing had felt simple in weeks, but this, at least, was supposed to come close.

The first sign something was wrong was the silence. No birds. No wind through
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  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 42: A name in the records

    Cassian found it two hours before dawn, buried in a ledger so old its binding had cracked and been rebound at least twice, the ink faded enough that he had to hold it close to the lantern to make out the handwriting at all.He didn’t call out immediately. He sat there for a long moment, staring at the page, feeling the particular vertigo of a theory finally confirmed when part of him had hoped, right up until this exact moment, that it might not be.Elena Cross, the entry read, dated twenty-one years earlier, in a section of the Marlowe records dedicated to inter-pack diplomacy. Ravenwood emissary, present for boundary negotiations following the northern territory dispute. Notable for direct manner and evident distrust of pack politics. A second entry, several months later, noted only: E. Cross no longer with Ravenwood delegation. No further contact recorded.It wasn’t proof. Not fully. But it was a name, a timeline, and a woman who had once stood inside Marlowe territory before vanis

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 41: What she refuses

    “I don’t believe it.”Sloane paced the length of the war room, arms crossed tight against her chest, the letter now lying discarded on the table like something none of them could bear to keep touching. “I don’t believe it, and I’m not going to sit here acting like it’s already confirmed just because Damon Reyes wrote it down in a threatening letter designed to scare us.”“Nobody’s saying it’s confirmed,” Cassian said carefully, though the careful was doing a lot of work in that sentence. “We’re saying it fits a pattern we’ve been circling for weeks without naming it directly.”“Then name it,” she snapped, more sharply than she meant to. “Say it outright instead of dancing around it with words like fits a pattern. You think Silas Cross is my father. Just say that.”Cassian didn’t flinch from the demand, which she appreciated even through her anger. “I think it’s possible. I think the timeline fits too precisely to dismiss outright. I don’t think either of us actually knows for certain

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 40: The declaration

    The message arrived at dawn, carried by a lone wolf who approached the border under a white cloth tied to a raised branch, the oldest signal for parley any pack still recognized, old enough that half the younger Marlowe fighters had to ask what it meant.Griffin met the messenger himself, flanked by Cassian and Dax, Sloane standing close enough to hear despite Griffin’s clear preference that she stay further back. She’d stopped arguing about that particular instinct of his. She simply ignored it instead.The messenger didn’t come armed, didn’t come aggressive, just held out a folded piece of parchment with the particular reluctance of someone who understood exactly how unwelcome its contents would be.“From Damon Reyes,” the messenger said. “He said you’d want to read it yourselves rather than hear it secondhand.”Griffin took it, unfolded it slowly, and Sloane watched his face change as he read, controlled fury giving way to something colder, sharper, more alarmed.“What does it say,

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 39: A good day

    It was Cassian’s idea, though he’d never admit to something so sentimental out loud he called it “morale management” when Griffin questioned the wisdom of pausing preparations for even half a day, but Sloane recognized it for what it actually was. One last good day, deliberately carved out before whatever came next arrived to take it from them.“The scouts confirm Damon’s still three days out,” Cassian said, when Griffin raised an eyebrow at the sudden lull in the training schedule. “Running everyone into exhaustion right before a fight is bad strategy. A rested pack fights better than an exhausted one. This is tactical, not soft.”“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Dax said, grinning for the first time in days, already looking more like himself now that his injuries had mostly healed.The morning unfolded slow and golden, sunlight doing something gentle to a compound that had spent the last week bracing itself tight as a fist. Someone got a fire going early despite the warm weathe

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 38: Preparing for the storm

    Word of Ravenwood’s mobilization reached Marlowe territory within two days, a defector, one of the smaller-pack recruits Damon had gathered, slipping away from the growing army with a warning he delivered at genuine personal risk before vanishing back into the woods rather than face what he’d started to suspect he’d signed up for.“Full mobilization,” Griffin said grimly, relaying the news to the assembled war council that evening. “Damon’s pulled together outside recruits from at least three broken packs. Numbers we haven’t faced before. They’re not testing us anymore. They’re coming for a real fight.”The training yard the next morning looked different than Sloane had ever seen it, not the usual rotation of drills and sparring, but something closer to a full pack mustering, every wolf capable of fighting drilled relentlessly from dawn until well past dark. Rowan ran her through combinations twice as hard as usual, no patience left for gentleness now that the timeline had compressed

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 37: Confirmed

    The scout who brought word back to Ravenwood territory hadn’t wanted the assignment. Word of the Marlowe claiming ceremony had traveled fast even before he’d been sent to verify it, and something in the certainty of what he’d have to report made him linger at the border longer than necessary before finally forcing himself back toward the compound that no longer felt entirely like home.He found Silas alone in the study, exactly where he usually was these days, sidelined, isolated, a man watching his own pack slip through his fingers one meeting at a time.“It’s true,” the scout said without preamble. “I saw the mark myself, from a distance. All three of them, lit up together during some kind of ceremony three nights past. Half their pack witnessed it. It’s not a rumor, Silas. It’s done.”Silas closed his eyes briefly, something in his chest sinking even though he’d known this was coming, had braced for it the moment Marcus’s warning first reached him weeks ago. “Public and permanent.”

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