Too Late For Tears The Alpha Triplets’ Regret Novels & Stories

Even if the bond burned. Alisa's voice rang in my ears, her words venomous and laced with cruelty. “Maybe the Triplets just needed someone to warm their bed. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? A pathetic little Omega like you. No Alpha could ever actually want you.” Her words hit me like daggers, cutting deep into my soul. My chest felt tight, and my vision blurred as the tears I had been desperately holding back began to spill. I couldn’t take it anymore.

A big tear rolled down my face as I watched my hopes go up in flames. “Ahh, there’s no way you could reach her in time now,” Alpha I-Oh laughed. End of flashback: “They haven’t heard from her,” I replied, tears ready to fall from my eyes.

They both had plans and dreams until he destroyed what they could have had Noticing her friend's distress, Stephanie gently touched Zita's arm. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, knowing full well the history between Chris and Zita. Dr. Zita nodded, forcing a small smile. "It's just... a lot to take in," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's time to go back to the pack," Alpha Damien announced, breaking the awkward silence. Caleb looked downcast. "Already?" he asked, glancing at Kayla, who was standing quietly nearby.

Rain's eyes locked onto Alpha, his gaze filled with a mix of sorrow and pain. Blaze's face contorted in anguish, his voice cracking. "No, no, no... this can't be happening. Dad, fight this, please fight!" he begged as tears flowed down his face, as his brothers gathered around him. I kept my distance My own pain was overwhelming. They needed each other, that triplet bond needed to be strong. I looked over to Alpha his's eyes were sunken, his skin like ash. he could barely whisper, "I'm... sorry, my love. I'm so sorry."

I mutter over and over again under my breath. "Things can still change, Andrea." Dabbing off my tears, I agree with Kezav. "You’re right. Things can still change and I’m going to change things." Rather than I falling for the Alpha triplets, they were going to fall for me. Hard!

But maybe I could…No. “Let’s continue our discussion,” I offered and they both took their seats. “Tell me what you found.” Greg nodded. “The gang of rogues are regaining traction. Before we had two groups. The faction campaigning for the former alpha and the ones on the side of Hailey’s father but ever since you called off the engagement,” Greg looked at me pointedly as he said this but I ignored him, “they have been angry and thinking that their worries would not be listened to.”

Her body shook as she sobbed into his chest. "Caleb," she whispered, her voice trembling, "I dreamt that Grace came back... that she wanted her kidney back... and that you... that you fell in love with her again, leaving me behind." She pulled back, her wide, tear-soaked eyes searching his face, her voice small and trembling. "You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? You wouldn’t abandon me for her?" I watched as Caleb’s jaw tightened, a flash of something unreadable passing through his eyes. For a brief, fragile second, he hesitated.

That the month had been exactly what she said it was—her due, thirty days, nothing more—and that if I said stay, she would look at me with those composed eyes and explain, with the same patient clarity she brought to everything, that she had always known what this was. I had been afraid of what it would mean if she said no. So I had said nothing, and she had said goodbye, and now I was standing in an empty hall holding a silver ribbon and ordering my Beta to search unmaintained border roads, and the fear of her saying no seemed, in retrospect, like a very small thing to have weighted so heavily. I opened my hand and looked at the ribbon again. "Alpha." Raines, at the door. "The trackers are

The former Alpha was found dead in his room on a Tuesday morning in October, foaming at the mouth, and the last person who had been with him was Dahlia. “She was the one who killed him.” Their voices echoed in my head. She had brought him food. His dinner was the same as any other night, and two hours later, he was gone, and the food was the only thing that made sense, and Dahlia's hands had prepared it, and Dahlia was nowhere. I hit the bag. “The evidence was clean,” a voice in my head had been saying for eighteen days, and I had been hitting things for eighteen days trying to decide whether the voice was grief or instinct, and I still did not know the answer.

His lips parted, then closed, as if he wanted to say something. In the end, all that escaped was a raw, broken howl. “Aaargh—” “Freya… little sister…” He finally remembered the explanations he’d dismissed as lies, the cries for help he’d ignored. It was all true. This proud, powerful Alpha collapsed onto the cold, damp floor of the dungeon, as if his very soul had been ripped out. I watched him break down, but my heart was a sea of calm. I was already dead. His grief couldn't change a thing.