Alpha Triplets Claim

Triplet Alphas Claim Chapter 62



Damon POV:

The atmosphere in my study is charged, like the air before a storm, heavy with unsaid curses and the weight of our silent rage. Two days. Two

goddamn f*****g days since Phera vanished, and here we are, powerless, furious, and frayed at the edges.

Axel paces like a caged beast, his usual calm nowhere in sight.

"This is bullshit," he spits out, the words sharp, a raw edge to his usually controlled tone. "She's out there, and we're stuck in this damn loop of helplessness!"

Zane's at the window, staring into the distance, his quiet more unnerving than any string of curses. When he turns, the storm in his eyes is enough to make me tighten my grip on the chair.

"We're not just sitting ducks," he growls, "We'll tear this world apart brick by brick if we have to."

I can't sit still; the energy in the room is a living thing, feeding off our shared frustration.

"And as if Phera's disappearance wasn't enough," I add, slamming a fist down on the table, making the damn thing shudder, "our companies are tanking, and the pack is feeling the bite. What the hell are we supposed to do?" The knock on the door is like a match to kindling-sudden, unexpected, and unwelcome. Nate barges in, not waiting for an invitation, his expression grim.

"Guys, you need to see this," he says, and I swear, if it's more bad news, I might just fucking lose it.

He throws a letter on the table, the seal of the Alpha King glaring up at us like a damn beacon of doom.

"Summoned," he says, like it's a death sentence, "The King wants to see us."

The letter sits there, a new weight added to our already burdened shoulders.

"Great, just what we needed," I mutter, the sarcasm thick. "A royal

audience to cap off this fantastic week."

Axel snatches the letter, scanning the contents, his jaw clenching tighter with every word.

"He knows," he finally says, his voice hollow, "He knows about Phera, the attacks, everything. And he's demanding answers."

Zane's fist hits the wall, a thud that echoes my own frustration.

"So, we march to his throne and what? Beg for mercy, assistance?" His words are laced with bitterness, a sentiment I echo deep in my bones.

"No," I say, standing up, the resolve hardening in me like steel. "We go, but not as beggars. We go as Alphas, united and strong. We lay out our cards, and damn it, we get his support."

The room falls silent, our collective breaths the only sound, each of us lost in the gravity of the situation. This meeting with the Alpha King isn't just a summons; it's a test, a trial by fire for us as leaders, as brothers.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

"We need a plan," Axel says after a moment, his strategical mind already ticking. "We lay everything out, transparent and direct. No holding back." Zane nods, his earlier fury settling into a cold, sharp determination. "And we make it clear. Phera is our top priority. We find her, and we deal with whoever's behind this."

The weight of leadership, of the love we bear for our missing Luna, binds us tighter than any vow. We're more than brothers; we're guardians, warriors, bound by blood and pain, by love and loss. "We'll bring her back," I vow to the silent room, to the absent heart of our pack. "We'll bring Phera back, whatever it takes. Then we kill the motherfucker who dared touch our luna."

And in that moment, despite the chaos that surrounds us, there's a unity that burns bright-a fierce, unyielding determination. We will face the Alpha King, face the world, as one. We will find Phera Axel POV:

The drive to the Alpha King's stronghold is silent, the kind of silence that's loaded, heavy with unsaid curses and the weight of our thoughts. I can practically hear Damon's teeth grinding as he drives, each turn of the wheel a controlled exercise in fury management. Zane, usually the funny one, looks like he's about to start throwing lightning bolts out of his eyes. And then there's me, caught between wanting to punch something and the cold grip of dread in my gut.

"Okay, look," I finally break the silence, "when we get there, we need to stick to the facts. No beating around the bush." The situation's messed up enough without us adding any drama.

Damon gives a short, bitter laugh.

"Right, just lay it all out. 'Hey, your majesty, someone's systematically trying to wreck our lives. Any chance you can help us out? Oh and by the way sorry for hiding all this damn stuff despite having to report about all business ona weekly bases." Zane shifts, a scowl set deep on his face.

"We tell him everything-the attacks, Phera's abduction, the damn financial hits. This isn't just bad luck; it's a coordinated strike against us."

Adam, trying to stay optimistic, chimes in from the back,

"There's got to be a way to trace this back, to find out who's behind it." His voice has that determined edge, but I can hear the underlying concern.

And Nate, ever the voice of reason, adds,

"We've been through tough spots before, but this... this is different. It's like they know exactly where to hit us to cause the most damage."

The buildings and trees whip past us as we near the Alpha King's domain, a sprawling estate that screams power and no-nonsense.

"I swear, this whole thing is fucked up," I mutter, feeling the anger bubble up again. "When we find out who's behind this, they're going to wish they'd never messed with us."

The car pulls up to the gates, massive and imposing, and for a moment, there's a collective pause, a shared breath as we steel ourselves for what's to come. We step out, the air charged with our combined fury and the unspoken fear for Phaedra, our missing link. "We've got this," Damon says, though it's more a vow than reassurance, his gaze fixed on the path ahead, leading to the Alpha King's court.

Zane nods, the usual light in his eyes replaced by something harder, colder.

"Yeah, time to show them the Red Moon Pack isn't one to mess with."

As we walk towards the entrance, the weight of our predicament settles heavily around us, a cloak woven from worry, anger, and desperation. But there's also the underlying thread of our bond, the unyielding resolve that's seen us through dark times before. "This is it," I say, as much to myself as to them. "Answers, action, and no more games. We're getting Phaedra back, and we're putting an end to this nightmare."

With each step, our determination grows, a united front against whatever lies ahead. The Alpha King awaits, and with him, the next chapter in this twisted saga. But whatever it holds, we're ready-we'll burn this motherfucking world to the absolute f*****g ground to find our Luna and save our pack.

Zane POV:

Stepping into the throne room feels like entering the heart of a storm, the air thick with tension and unspoken threats. The Alpha King's palace is a fortress, with guards stationed at every corner, their eyes sharp and assessing, missing nothing. They're like damn statues, except for the predatory awareness bristling in their stance. This isn't just security; it's a show of power, a reminder of who's in charge.

The throne room itself is massive, the high ceilings lost in shadows, the walls lined with the banners of various packs, including ours. It's meant to impress, to intimidate, and I'll admit, the old wolf's got style. But the grandeur of the place doesn't distract from the man sitting at the center of it all, the Alpha King himself, his presence commanding the room like he commands the nation.

As we approach, we bow-not out of subservience but respect for the position, for the tradition. It's a delicate dance of power and protocol, and while I'd rather be anywhere else, this is where we need to be. He wastes no time, his voice cutting through the formality like a knife.

"Explain yourselves," he commands, his gaze sharp on us.

Damon steps forward, the nominal head among us.

"Your majesty, our pack is under siege. Not just from external forces, but from what appears to be a coordinated attack on multiple fronts." His voice is steady, but I can hear the underlying current of rage, the protective fury for our pack, for Phera The Alpha King leans forward, interest piqued. "Go on."

Axel takes over, laying out the facts with clinical precision.

"First, there's the abduction of our Luna, Phaedra. Then the attacks on our territories, not random skirmishes but strategic strikes aimed at our defenses. And let's not forget the financial hits our businesses have taken simultaneously. Someone's trying to cripple

us."

I watch the King's reaction closely, but the guy's a fortress, giving nothing away. When it's my turn, I dive straight in.

"We believe there's a connection between these events. Someone with knowledge of our operations, our weaknesses, is orchestrating this."

"And you have proof of this?" the King probes, his eyes like lasers.

"We're gathering it," I say, my frustration simmering. "But every path we follow ends up in shadows. It's like chasing ghosts."

The room falls silent, the tension a tangible entity coiling around us. The King's gaze lingers on each of us, as if weighing our words, our worth.

"Your situation is dire," he finally says, his voice grave. "But accusations require proof, not just suspicions. What do you propose?"

Damon's response is immediate, the protective alpha in him speaking.

"We request your support, your resources to uncover the traitor within our

ranks, to safeguard our pack and restore order."

The King's eyes narrow, contemplative, measuring.

"And what do I gain from assisting the Red Moon Pack?"

It's Axel who answers, the diplomat among us.

"An ally strengthened, a debt owed, and the assurance that subversion within one pack doesn't lead to instability across all."

The Alpha King listens, an inscrutable sentinel, absorbing the gravity of our words. When he finally speaks, it's with a deliberation that makes every word resonate with a weight that feels like a sentence in itself.

"Your situation warrants concern, not just for the welfare of your pack, but for the balance it upsets within our society," he begins, his gaze piercing, assessing.

But then he proposes a solution, one so unexpected it momentarily steals the breath from my lungs.

"A union," he suggests, his eyes locked on ours, "between your pack and my lineage. A marriage between your firstborn and one of my heirs could cement a bond strong enough to deter any threats, uniting our strengths."

The proposal hangs in the air, a new, unforeseen variable that changes the entire calculus of our predicament. A political maneuver, yes, but one with personal stakes higher than any of us could have anticipated. Damon's reaction is instantaneous, a blend of shock and wary calculation.

"Your majesty, with all due respect, we're here seeking allies against a common enemy, not... not binding arrangements."

Axel's mind, I can tell, is racing through the implications, the benefits and chains such a union would impose.

"It's an unprecedented offer," he acknowledges, his tone measured, betraying none of the turmoil the suggestion has ignited within us.

And me? I'm torn between outrage and the stark realization of what this could mean for us, for our future. Marrying into the royal bloodline could offer us protection, resources, but at what cost? At the cost of a child not yet born, a future not yet written? Not to mention the risk of taking away a fated mate from our child.

The Alpha King watches us, his expression unreadable.

"Consider it," he says, the words not a command but an ultimatum

dressed as counsel. "A united front against whatever shadows seek to undermine our world. Your pack would gain not just an ally but a pillar of strength."

We exchange glances, a silent conversation flowing between us. This isn't what we expected, not what we came for, but the offer holds power, a promise of safety and strength at a time when we're at our lowest.

As we take our leave, the weight of the decision presses down on us with the gravity of the world. This isn't just about surviving the present; it's about securing a future, potentially at the cost of freedoms and choices yet unmade.

The ride back is filled with a different kind of silence, one teeming with the unsaid, the possibilities, the what-ifs. We're at a crossroads, not just as leaders but as brothers, as future fathers. The choices we make now, the paths we choose, will echo through the lives of generations yet unborn.

And as the landscape blurs past, one thing becomes crystal clear: whatever decision we make, we make it together, for the pack, for Phera, for the future that hangs in the balance.


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