Sacrificed To The Triplet Alpha Kings

Chapter 152: The Wolfless Beta’s Daughter

Nothing came.

She tried again. And again. She remembered digging her nails into her palms, begging her body to do what it was supposed to do, what every single wolf around her was doing so easily. She remembered the confusion turning to panic, the panic turning to shame, as one by one the others finished shifting and turned to look at her, the only one still standing on two legs, still entirely, hopelessly human.

She remembered the whispers starting before she’d even caught her breath.

She remembered running from the courtyard, tears streaming down her face, hiding behind the old grain shed at the edge of the compound where no one would find her. She remembered sinking to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest, certain that something inside her was broken beyond repair.

And she remembered her father finding her there.

He hadn’t said anything at first. He’d simply sat down beside her in the dirt, his broad shoulders blocking the wind, and let her cry until she had nothing left. When she finally looked up at him, expecting disappointment, expecting the same shame she’d seen flicker across so many other faces that night, she’d found none of it in his eyes. Only warmth. Only certainty.

"You are not broken," he’d told her, his voice low and steady. "Do you hear me, Lilith? You are not broken."

She remembered shaking her head, telling him he didn’t understand, that everyone would look at her differently now, that she’d never belong the way she was supposed to.

He’d taken her face in his hands then, the way he used to when she was small and needed steadying. "The Moon Goddess doesn’t make mistakes," he’d said. "If she chose not to give you a wolf, then she has her reasons, even if we don’t understand them yet. Maybe she’s saving something for you. Maybe you’re meant for something the rest of them can’t even imagine." He’d smiled at her, the kind of smile that made her believe him even when the rest of the world made it impossible to. "You are special, little one. Not broken. Special."

She hadn’t fully believed him that night. But she’d clung to his words anyway, held them close through every mocking glance, every whispered insult, every time someone called her a freak in the years that followed. Whenever the shame threatened to swallow her whole, she heard his voice again. You are not broken. You are special.

He’d never once let her feel small for it. Not when the other children sneered at her in the training yard. Not when pack elders murmured behind their hands about the wolfless beta’s daughter. Every single time, he’d been there, reminding her that her worth had never depended on a wolf she didn’t have.

She wondered, sitting here now, what he would say about everything happening to her tonight. Whether he’d tell her the same thing, that the Moon Goddess didn’t make mistakes, that there was a reason buried somewhere in all of this chaos, even if she couldn’t see it yet.

She liked to think he would.

"I miss him too," she said softly. "I don’t say that enough. I don’t let myself think about him because it hurts too much. But I miss him, Mama. Every single day."

The tears came freely now, sliding down her cheeks in the quiet of the room. She didn’t bother wiping them away.

"I keep thinking about what happens after I leave," she continued. "What happens to you. They promised to take care of everything....every cost, every need, for as long as it takes for you to wake up. I want to believe that’s real too. I want to believe that whatever else is true about them, they’ll keep that promise even if the other one turns out to be empty."

She brought her mother’s hand up and pressed it gently against her cheek, closing her eyes.

"I have three more days here, Mama. I’m going to come see you again before I go. Maybe twice more, if I can manage it. I know it’s not enough. I know days of missing you isn’t fixed by two more visits. But I need you to know I’m not leaving because I want to. I need you to know that even if I’m gone, I’ll be thinking of you every single day. I’ll find a way to come back and check on you myself, even from Blackwood territory. I promise you that."

She opened her eyes, staring down at her mother’s peaceful face.

"I wish you could tell me what to do," she whispered. "I wish you could open your eyes right now and just tell me it’s going to be okay. That I’m not making a mistake. That going with them isn’t the same as losing myself completely." Her voice broke on the last words. "I’m so tired of making these decisions alone, Mama. I’m so tired of not having you here to help me carry it."

The machines beeped on, steady and indifferent to everything she’d just said.

Lilith sat there for a long while after that, simply holding her mother’s hand, listening to the quiet hum of the medical wing around her. She thought about Sebastian’s hands cupping her face. She thought about Nicholas’s absolute certainty. She thought about Lucian’s growl rolling across the hall like thunder, the promise in it that no one would ever touch her again.

She thought about Elder Aldric’s eyes lingering on her a moment too long, the suspicion she hadn’t imagined.

She thought about all of it, sitting there in the dark with the one person who used to make sense of everything for her, now unable to offer even a single word.

Eventually, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her mother’s forehead.

"I love you," she murmured. "I’ll come back soon. I promise."

She stayed a few minutes longer, unwilling to let go of her mother’s hand just yet, unwilling to step back into the world waiting for her outside this room. But the night was slipping away, and morning....with all its demands, all its consequences, was coming whether she was ready for it or not.

Finally, she stood, tucking the blanket a little higher around her mother’s shoulders the way she always did before leaving. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, looking back at the still, peaceful figure in the bed.

"Goodnight, Mama," she whispered.

Then she turned and walked out into the dark corridor, back toward whatever tomorrow was going to demand of her.