Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers Chapter 25: Flames of denial

~Cayden’s POV~

This can’t be real... impossible. Hazel? Pregnant with my child?

The words played in my head like so sick joke. I stood there, stiff, barely breathing as Caspian took a step back from . I noticed it instantly—the disappointnt in his eyes, the sharp shift in the air between us. My brother, my blood... turning away.

I reached out instinctively, like that could sohow fix this. "Brother... this can’t"

But he cut off, his voice slicing through the noise like a dagger.

"It’s enough, Cayden. Enough of your lies and deceit. But for how long will you keep doing this, huh?"

He stepped back further, shaking his head in disgust. "Alpha Cayden."

That last part? He emphasized it—mocked with it. My title suddenly felt like a heavy burden around my neck. My eyes widened because that was it. That was exactly what I’d been running from.

Any connection with Hazel always ended in chaos. The closer I got to her, the more I felt like I was unraveling. Worse—I was dragging her down with .

I sent Ragnar away. I made a deal. I told myself it was for her safety, that staying away was the only way to protect her. She didn’t need to be tangled in my world. And now...this?

A child?

No. No, it couldn’t be. I wasn’t even inside her long enough. Barely even touched her that way. And Natasha? I’ve been with her countless tis, and not once has she gotten pregnant. Not once.

This had to be a scam. A cruel setup. She’s faking it.

And now, she’s taking Caspian away from . My own brother. My last anchor. Without him, I’m... lost.

The anger began to boil under my skin. I needed answers. I needed to see her.

I shoved Caspian out of my way and stord through the crowd toward the hall’s entrance. But then

I stopped, like my body hit an invisible wall.

There she was.

Hazel.

Standing tall in the middle of chaos, her gaze locked with mine like we were the only two people in the room. Tears streaked down her face, ruining her makeup. Her hands clenched the fabric of her dress like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her chest heaved, but her stare?

Fierce.

"You.."

We both said it, teeth gritted, like fire eting gasoline.

And then my eyes dropped to her stomach.

A strange, deep feeling crept into my chest. Not fear. Not anger. Sothing I couldn’t na.

Before I could take a step closer, Caspian moved between us, shielding her like I was a disease. That only enraged further.

"Why are you doing this..." My voice cracked, the weight of everything finally pressing against my lungs. "First becoming our mate... and now pregnant? Are you aware of the danger and embarrassnt you’re bringing to my pack? Huh?"

She didn’t even blink. Her stare matched mine—equal fire, equal fury.

Then she laughed. Low. Painful. Like the kind that cos from sowhere deep and cracked.

"I would choose to have control over this situation? I would pick you to be the father of my child?"

My heart twisted, but my anger moved faster.

"Then why are you doing all of this?! Can’t you just leave?!" I shouted, unable to hold it in anymore.

She gripped Caspian’s arm tightly. "I... wish I could."

Her words weren’t loud, but they cut deep.

"No, Hazel. You can leave. With your illegitimate child. You’re both not wanted here."

I knew the words were harsh. I ant them to be. If she stayed... she’d die. This pack, my world—none of it would spare her. Ragnar needed to know she was gone, so he’d finally back off.

Let her live out the rest of her human days in peace.

But instead of breaking...

She stepped forward.

She pulled away from Caspian’s grasp. Her heels clicked against the marble like war drums, and then.

She slapped .

Hard.

And then again.

And then a third ti.

The sting echoed across my face and through the gasping crowd.

"Don’t you dare call my child that."

Her fingers curled into the collar of my suit. She yanked closer, eyes blazing with fury. "Don’t you dare again... or else—"

I shoved her back, not hard, but enough.

"Or else what?!" I roared. "You’ve already done every worst thing you could possibly do to . Any ’or else’ will just be the tip of the iceberg!"

The hall had gone dead silent.

This place was cursed the mont she walked in. Every ti she enters, everything goes to hell. And now... I was unraveling in front of everyone.

I never lose control. Not in front of my people.

But damn it, she... she always knows how to break .

From the side, Caspian stood still. Watching. Leon and Aurora lingered near the edge of the crowd. My parents were up on the zzanine, and the Gilbert wolves were gathering near Marcus. And the entire Blue Moon pack stood watching alongside other neighboring packs.

And then he spoke.

"I can’t believe my own daughter would give birth out of wedlock," Marcus spat, stepping forward.

His voice was cold. Sharp. Cruel.

"Thank the moons you got exposed at the wedding. What would’ve happened otherwise?"

He was only inches from her when Hazel turned—

And slapped him.

She slapped her father.

Gasps broke out across the hall.

"You filth!" his wife scread, lunging toward her.

But Caspian was faster. He stepped in front of Hazel like a wall of steel.

"You touch even a strand of her hair, and I’ll rip the wolf out of you."

His voice was calm. Deadly.

She froze, and she and her daughters and the surrounding wolves pulled back.

And then—

"I disown you!"

That voice—Marcus’s voice—shattered through the entire crowd like thunder splitting the sky.

Everyone gasped.

Hazel took a shaky step back, her chest rising and falling as though the air had suddenly thickened. Her fingers trembled slightly, still curled from the slap she had delivered just monts ago.

Marcus stood there, frozen. One hand still pressed against his cheek where his own daughter had struck him. His expression was unreadable—part shock, part fury—but his pride was crumbling fast, and the sting on his face wasn’t half as sharp as the wound to his ego.

Behind him, his daughters growled low in their throats, their eyes blazing with humiliation and rage. They looked ready to pounce, as if Hazel’s defiance had shattered sothing sacred in their twisted family dynamic.

And then.

"You filth," Marcus snarled, his voice no longer composed but ragged and venom-laced. "You whore. You mistake."

Each word was another stone thrown at her, aid not just to wound, but to break her completely.

"I disown you," he repeated, louder, harsher. "You are no longer a Gilbert."

Gasps rippled again across the room. No one moved. No one dared.