My Triplet Alphas

A new friend

Day 60

I’ve discovered that if I whisper when everything is completely still—after the guards have left and the air feels dead—someone whispers back. Her voice is hoarse, hesitant, but it’s real. Her name is Amber. She’s a werewolf.

I’m still trying to understand what that even means. She says she was born into a pack, not turned. Apparently, she’s extremely allergic to silver—like most of her kind—and this place is crawling with it. The straps, the locks, even the bolts on the cages. No wonder she’s weak.

She’s trying to help me survive. We’re planning. We’re listening. We’re hoping.

I also realized today I haven’t gotten my period in the past month. I’m either pregnant or my body is messed up from the food schedule. I hope It’s the lather.

Day 70

It’s official—I’m pregnant. My stomach feels tighter, more sensitive. Amber guessed before I said anything. She said werewolf pregnancies move fast—just over four months. If that’s true, I have barely three months left.

I don’t even know who the father is. I don’t want to think about it. But I know I have to keep this child safe.

Amber told me we’re in the Nightshade Pack. They traffic women, mostly wolves. They Sell our bodies for power and profit. It’s one of the largest packs in the U.S.—only outranked by hers, the Midnight Howlers. She swears if they find her, they’ll tear this place apart. I hope she’s right.

Day 75

Today I made a choice. I might not have power here, but I have something the others don’t—human blood. The silver doesn’t burn me. So when they come to tie someone down for their sick games, I volunteer.

It’s killing me slowly, but at least they don’t suffer.

My belly’s growing. The life inside me is real. They’ll notice soon, and I’m terrified of what they’ll do. Will they see it as a threat? A weapon? I have to protect it. I have to survive—for this baby, for Ellie, for every girl still locked away in here.

Day 80

I’ve saved a few more girls this week. It’s getting harder. My body aches constantly, and food is scarce. I convinced the guards to feed me in my cage again. I act compliant, grateful.

Sometimes I manage to slip part of my meal into my clothes, rolling it into small pieces to pass through cracks in the bars. I’ve been caught once. I lied, said I dropped it. They didn’t buy it. I got slapped hard across the face.

Still worth it.

AMBER POV

Thank the Moon Goddess for Cassidy. She’s only human, but she has more heart than half the wolves I’ve known.

She takes the punishment for us. Offers herself up. Even when she’s trembling with pain, she finds a way to roll extra food toward our cages—bread, a scrap of meat, anything.

I smelled blood on her tonight. Strong, fresh. I called out softly, but she didn’t answer. I’ve never heard her so silent. My chest aches. If my brothers find me, I’ll beg them to take her too. She belongs with us. She’s already one of us. They are the triplet Alphas of the Midnight Howlers pack.

CASSIDY POV

Day 82

Last night was the worst.

They took me again. Carl—the alpha’s son—was the one leading it. His smile is all teeth and cruelty. Greasy black hair, shoulders like a slab of meat. His hands are always too tight, too rough.

He dragged a dull knife down my leg, slow enough to make me watch. Then used glue to seal it up, like I was nothing but a project. When he touched my stomach, the baby kicked. I saw something change in his face. He cursed, shoved me across the room, and threw me back in my cage.

The baby’s still moving. Thank the stars.

Day 90

Alpha Dominic pulled me from the cage today. Said he needed to “check something.” I didn’t fight. I couldn’t.

The exam room was cold. Sterile. They strapped me to the table—arms, legs, even my head. A doctor came in, silent as death, and ran an ultrasound. I saw the blur of my baby on the screen. The heartbeat. The movement. It’s real.

The doctor said I’m nearly halfway through. It’s a werewolf baby.

Alpha Dominic stared at the monitor and said, “If you behave, you get to keep it.”

That’s all it takes to control me now—this child. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them.

Day 100

They’ve left me alone since the ultrasound. No more torture. No more questions.

They feed me daily—bread, spam, water. But now they watch me eat every bite. Cameras in the corners. Guards posted closer. I think they know I was feeding the others.

The worst part is the silence. I don’t know if Amber is still there. I can’t risk speaking. I can’t risk losing what little I have left.

But my baby is still kicking. Still alive. That has to be enough. For now.