My Triplet Alphas

Safe enough to feel

Zayden’s Point of View

The scent of warm clove and smoke curled around me as I stepped into the library, but it wasn’t mine I noticed first—it was hers.

Cassidy was standing by the tall windows, bathed in golden afternoon light, her long hair loosely braided down her back. She looked peaceful, but I knew better. Her shoulders were tense, her eyes distant, like she was caught somewhere between memory and presence. Her cherrywood and vanilla scent lingered faintly in the air, comforting and familiar, even though she didn’t know it was her own.

It was still hard to believe she was here.

Twelve weeks ago, we pulled her from that prison. Her body was broken, her spirit cracked. And now—she was alive, healing, mothering, learning how to live again.

And every damn day, I was falling harder for her.

“Hey,” I said softly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked over her shoulder and gave me a small smile. “Hey. I didn’t expect you.”

“Zander’s knee-deep in security reports,” I said, stepping closer. “I figured he needed time to brood alone.”

Her smile warmed just slightly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Have you… been resting?” I asked gently.

Her laugh was soft, dry. “Resting? With a newborn and an twenty-month-old? Not exactly. But Amelia’s been amazing with the kids, so I can’t complain.”

I moved to stand beside her, watching as she looked out over the sprawling pack lands. The mansion—our pack house—was nestled like a fortress against the edge of the forest. Safe. Guarded. But I knew she didn’t always feel safe.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” I said.

She glanced at me.

“I know you still have nightmares.”

Cassidy’s lips parted like she wanted to deny it, then closed again. Her gaze dropped to her hands. “Sometimes I feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” I frowned.

“For having moments like this,” she said, waving vaguely toward the peaceful view. “When the world’s quiet. When I feel… almost normal. Like I don’t deserve peace when there are women still out there, trapped like I was. When Carl is still out there.”

I clenched my jaw. “Zander’s tracking him. He won’t stop until Carl’s found.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m afraid he’ll come for me again.”

“He won’t,” I said fiercely, stepping closer. “We’d never let that happen. Cassidy, you’re not alone. You never will be again.”

Her breath hitched.

And then—maybe it was the way the light softened her features, maybe it was the weight of everything she carried alone, or maybe it was the bond that tugged on me like a current pulling me to shore—I reached for her hand.

She didn’t pull away.

Her fingers were small in mine, warm and trembling slightly. I stepped closer, gently guiding her to turn toward me. Her brown and green eyes flicked up to meet mine, uncertain and soft.

“I see you,” I said. “Not just the strong mother. Not just the survivor. You. The woman you are under all the pain. And I…” My voice dropped. “I care about her more than I can explain.”

Her eyes shimmered, but she didn’t look away.

“I don’t know what this is yet,” she whispered. “I still grieve Noah. I still feel broken some days.”

I nodded. “That’s okay. I don’t need you to be fixed. I just want to be someone you can lean on.”

The air between us thickened, charged with something fragile but undeniable. Her fingers tightened slightly around mine, and when she swayed forward just a little, it was instinct to meet her halfway.

Our lips met—gentle, tentative, nothing like the hunger of the bond could demand. It was a promise, not a claim. A beginning, not a conquest.

Cassidy trembled against me, her hand rising to rest lightly on my chest as the kiss deepened just enough to say: I trust you.

When we finally pulled apart, her eyes fluttered open, wide and glassy with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I shook my head. “Don’t be. That was real.”

She nodded slowly. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel anything again… but I do.”

Something tightened in my chest—pride, protectiveness, love. “You don’t have to know exactly what it is yet. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait.”

She leaned into me then, resting her head against my shoulder. And for a few perfect moments, the pain faded into the background.

I held her there as the sun dipped lower outside the windows. I didn’t need the Moon Goddess to tell me what my heart already knew.

Cassidy wasn’t just our second chance.

She was mine.

And I’d destroy anything that tried to take her away again.