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Chapter 38: Preparing for the storm
publish date:
2026-09-20 19:24:47
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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.”
CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS Chapter 36: Without strategy
Cassian hadn’t left the war table in three days, and Sloane had stopped trying to make him.She understood it now in a way she hadn’t fully grasped before, this was how he grieved, how he processed fear he didn’t know how to name out loud. While Dax recovered in the infirmary, Cassian buried himself in maps and old texts and patrol logs, searching for the miscalculation that had let seven Ravenwood wolves slip past their intelligence undetected, as if solving that particular puzzle might somehow retroactively undo the danger his brother had walked into.“You need to sleep,” she said, setting a plate of food beside his elbow for the third time that day, untouched from the first two attempts.“I need to understand how our intelligence missed four extra wolves,” he said, not looking up. “That’s not a small margin of error, Sloane. That’s the difference between Dax coming home wounded and Dax not coming home at all.”“You can’t fix it by staring at the same map until your eyes bleed.”“I
CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS Chapter 35: What losing her would mean
The scouting mission wasn’t supposed to take this long.Dax had volunteered for it himself a quiet pass along the northern ridge to map any new Ravenwood movement since Marcus’s warning, in and out before dawn, nothing that should have taken more than a few hours. Sloane had watched him go with the mark humming low and steady, no warning in it, nothing to suggest the night would go anything but smoothly.Six hours later, it hadn’t.She stood at the window of their room as the sky lightened toward gray, arms wrapped around herself, watching the tree line for a shape that wasn’t coming. Griffin had gone out twice already to check with the border patrols. Cassian hadn’t left the war table since midnight, maps spread out in front of him like he could locate Dax through sheer force of calculation.“He’s late,” Sloane said, for what felt like the hundredth time. “He’s never late.”“He’s resourceful,” Cassian said, not looking up, though the tightness in his voice betrayed exactly how little
CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS Chapter 34: Letting it go
She found Griffin at the memorial wall, which was what the pack called the quiet stretch of stone near the eastern garden where names of the dead were carved into smooth rock, weathered by years of rain and grief in equal measure. He came here more than he told anyone, she suspected she’d only find this particular habit of his by accident, following the pull of the mark on an evening when his absence had felt different from his usual quiet retreats.Kieran’s name sat near the bottom, still sharp-edged compared to the older carvings above it, three years not yet enough to soften the letters the way decades had softened the names surrounding it.“You don’t have to stay,” Griffin said without turning, having clearly sensed her approach long before she reached him. “If you’d rather…”“I’m staying.” She settled beside him on the low bench facing the wall, close enough that her shoulder brushed his. “You come here a lot.”“More than I probably should.”“Why do you say it like that? Like gri
CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS Chapter 33: Not the outsider anymore
“Again,” said the training instructor, a broad-shouldered wolf named Rowan who’d taken Sloane on as a personal project with the same grim determination he probably applied to everything. “You’re dropping your shoulder before you strike. Every opponent worth fighting will see that coming from across the yard.”Sloane rolled said shoulder, already sore, and reset her stance. “It’s been three weeks. I’m allowed to still be bad at this.”“You’re not bad at this. You’re inconsistent, which is worse, because it means you’re capable of doing it right and choosing not to under pressure.” Rowan circled her slowly, the way he always did before another round, and she’d learned by now that his brand of encouragement came disguised as criticism nine times out of ten. “Again.”She struck. He caught her wrist, redirected it easily, and she found herself on her back in the dirt for the fourth time that morning, staring up at a gray sky that hadn’t decided yet whether it wanted to rain.“Better,” he s
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