Too Late for Tears: The Alpha Triplets’ Regret

Iris’s hands shook as she distributed food among her fellow prisoners. She could feel the remnants of the wolfsbane poison circulating through her veins.

By the time she allocated herself food, all that remained was a small, dried-out piece of bread. Iris did not flinch at the knowledge she would not get any more sustenance in at least two days. Not her worst day by far.

Their cell door creaked open ominously, the guard entered.When his hard and cold eyes settled on Iris, she inwardly shivered but kept her expression neutral.

“Stand,” he ordered. He didn’t wait for her to obey, simply grabbed her arm and dragged her from the cell.

“It’s your lucky day,” the guard snarled cruelly as he gave her a push on the back of the shoulder “You’ve posted bail. An Alpha is here to take you home.”

A wave of what should have been relief waved through her, but the fear of facing her traitorous family overtook her body. She did not wish to see the family who had turned her from a princess into a criminal.

Still reeling, Iris changes into the clothes and jacket she checked into the prison with. She no longer fills out the bra. She pulls on the t-shirt and cinches the now-baggy sweatpants as tightly as she can.

The sun seemed to shine brighter outside of the labor camp; it blinded her eyes before they landed on the man waiting for her release at the gate. He seemed to have grown into the powerful presence he emitted even in their youth. He was taller, more official, wearing a fancy suit Iris could recognize as made by their father’s cherished tailor.

Her brother Cedric, the family’s eldest, was the one that had proposed she take the blame for Viola’s heinous crimes.

There’s a tentative smile on his face. “It’s good to see you.”

Iris lowers her eyes. Underneath her clothes and jacket, her body is a patchwork of scars from beatings - her mind just as scarred from the trauma of Black Rock. She and Cedric are worlds apart.

Cedric watched Iris adjusting to freedom with quiet apprehension. As the eldest of the triplets and now the acting Alpha, he’d had to reschedule his official duties to come for her personally. But he hardly recognized the girl she’d been.

The Iris he remembered would already be complaining about her three years of captivity. He waited for her to rush to him and seek comfort, as she always did. She’d always relied heavily on him.

But she stood before him now, emotionless and defiant.

Out of habit, he extended his hand to her, giving her permission to seek comfort in his embrace. Instead, she stood gaunt and shaking, purposefully avoiding the hand he reached out to welcome her with.

“To say my schedule is full is probably the understatement of the century, but I specifically cleared all my official duties to come for you.”

Oh, so she should be grateful His Highness took the time for her. Typical big-head Alpha.

A knot formed in Iris’s throat. She wanted deeply to explain–to tell Cedric everything that had been done to her. To slap him across the face for never even coming to visit and hug him for finally coming to his senses, but she remained still, blankly blinking at the man she had once considered family.

She was once a beloved part of the Fenrir family, doted on by her brothers, but especially by Cedric. And then, three years ago, the Fenrir’s long-lost biological daughter, Viola, reappeared.

It’s a debt you owe, Iris.

Cedric was solemn that day, as he sat on the edge of her bed. She should, and she would take the blame for Viola’s crime.

Lips pursed, she keeps her hands clasped to her sides, observing him through hollow eyes.

“I don’t know what you hope to gain by being cold and distant,” he snaps.

“Nothing, Alpha,” she says, addressing him formally.

Cedric looks momentarily stunned, as if he’s unsure what to do or say next.

“Get in the car,” he sighed, patience clearly fleeting in his demeanor, “We need to get home as soon as we can.”

Iris does as the Alpha commands. And although she’s unsure of everything, as they drive away, a tiny spark ignites in her chest. She’s leaving Black Rock, and she’s going home.

Iris stared up at the pack house from inside Cedric’s car. They hadn’t spoken the entire ride home. It was only now that she glanced at him and found him watching her for her reaction.

The house was bustling with life. Pack members coming and going in a hurry, carrying items into the house and calling out to each other in exuberance. Had they arranged a party to welcome her home?

“We have a visitor,” Cedric said gently. “I wanted to bring you home sooner, before she arrived, to give you time to acclimate to your life again. The timing didn’t work out. The Queen is here already, visiting the pack. The house will be a little busy for a while.”

“The Queen,” she whispered and looked back at the house. The merriment wasn’t for her.

“I need you to be on your best behavior during her visit, Iris. Promise me you won’t cause any trouble.”

“You want me to stay silent about taking the blame for your sister?” she whispered.

“I promised you compensation for that,” he reminded her. “And you’ll get it and more if you’ll keep the truth to yourself.”

Material gifts? She had no desire for anything of the sort. His family had taken her in and raised her. For fifteen years she’d been loved and well cared for. She’d taken the blame to pay them back for their kindness, not to earn material gifts.

“I don’t need anything,” she husked as she looked back at her childhood home. “I’ll behave.”

“Let’s go,” he said abruptly as he climbed from the car. She was still so cold, so distant and it left him confused and irritated.

Inside the house he ignored the obvious stares of the others as he whisked her upstairs to change.

“I need you to change,” he told her. “And quickly. We have things to do.”

Iris noticed a beautiful dress he was so careful not to wrinkle, wondering if it could possibly be for her… until an old beige coat was thrust in her hands.

“Take this for now,” he said. “I’m sure Violet won’t mind you wearing her old coat. Just remember, her things are not your things. Don’t try to take what’s hers.”

“I understand,” she whispered.

“I hope so,” he drawled. But he doubted she understood. Three years ago Iris had always taken or ruined the gifts he’d carefully chosen for Viola. Gifts he’d selected just for Viola, to make up for all the wrongs that had been done to her.

“I won’t touch her things,” she promised him.

“No,” he said coldly. “You won’t. And you’ll be kind to her this time. I won’t tolerate you bullying her. Do you understand me?”

Iris nodded, remembering a million times Viola had been the one to bully her, but keeping that thought to herself.

Cedric replaced Viola’s dress carefully and turned back to Iris, watching her huddle in Viola’s oversized coat dramatically.

“Still playing games.” Cedric’s voice is sharp with irritation. “Still competing for attention.”

He steps toward her, reaching for the belt with an exasperated sigh. “Will you ever stop this-” He takes her by the waist. And freezes - the way his fingers press in and find nothing but razor-sharp angles. Ridges of hips. Ladder of ribs. Jutted knobs of vertebrae.

Starving.