The Triplet Alphas' Forbidden Temptation

She leaned forward eagerly, her eyes filled with excitement. The man smiled faintly.

”Your mother looked a lot like you,” he began. ”She inherited her appearance from her father, but her personality was very much her mother’s.”

Yuki’s lips curved. ”That sounds interesting,” she chimed.

”She was stubborn,” he continued, his tone carrying faint amusement. ”Emotional and pretty intelligent.”

Yuki’s eyebrows lifted. ”Wait. You just said I wasn’t the best.” The man looked at her. Yuki narrowed her eyes. ”And now you’re telling me my mother was extremely intelligent?”

A slow smile spread across his face. ”I said she was intelligent. I didn’t say she was the smartest person in the room.”

Yuki stared at him. ”You talk about her as though she was dumb.”

The man chuckled. His hearty laugh filled the room. ”She wasn’t dumb,” he clarified, his tone patient. ”She was smart. Very smart, actually. But she was too emotional for her own good, and that led her to make some terrible decisions.”

Yuki’s amusement faded. ”Like what?” she asked.

The man’s expression changed. ”Your father.”

Yuki’s breath caught. ”My father?” she gasped. He didn’t like her father.

The man nodded. ”Your mother was completely, blindly in love with him,” he said with a sneer.

Something shifted in his expression as he spoke. The amusement disappeared from his eyes, replaced by something deeper. Yuki watched him carefully.

”You don’t like my father,” she said slowly.

The man’s lips curved into a bitter smile. ”Is it that obvious?”

Yuki almost laughed. ”Very.” She couldn’t stop smiling.

He shook his head. ”He wasn’t a good fit for her.” There was something almost comical about the distaste in his voice. Yuki tilted her head.

”You really don’t like him.”

”No,” he answered bluntly.

Yuki’s lips twitched. ”Why?” she pried, genuinely curious about his spite against her father.

The man sighed. ”He wasn’t the smartest man I’ve ever met.” Yuki blinked. She suddenly remembered his opinion of her grades. Of course. Apparently, this man had a very high standard for intelligence.

”But he was passionate,” he added reluctantly.

Yuki’s amusement faded. ”Passionate?” she asked, arching a brow.

”Annoyingly passionate,” he clarified, his tone dry.

A small smile touched Yuki’s lips. ”So they loved each other?”

The man’s gaze softened. ”They did.”

Yuki looked down. That explained so much. If her mother had truly loved her father that deeply, then perhaps losing him really had destroyed something inside her. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t survived. Yuki swallowed.

The man suddenly pushed away from the counter. ”Time is up,” he announced quietly.

Yuki looked at him in confusion. ”Time is up?” she repeated.

He didn’t explain. Instead, he walked towards her. Yuki watched as he stopped directly in front of her. His expression had changed again. There was something in his eyes now that she couldn’t understand. Something painfully familiar.

He slowly raised one hand. Yuki didn’t move. His palm settled gently against the top of her head. The moment he touched her, his eyes filled with emotion. Yuki stared at him. For the first time, the man’s carefully controlled expression cracked.

”It’s time you woke up,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. ”Aevia would be furious if I kept you here any longer.”

Yuki’s brows furrowed. ”What does that mean?”

But the room was already beginning to blur. The man’s figure became hazy around the edges.

”Wait!”

Yuki reached for him. The kitchen dissolved. The meadow disappeared. The glowing flowers faded into darkness. The last thing Yuki saw was his face. Then everything went black.

A steady beeping sound reached her first.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Yuki frowned. Something cold pressed against her skin. A sharp smell filled her nose. Antiseptic. Her eyelids fluttered. She tried to open them, but they felt impossibly heavy. Her body felt even heavier. Yuki tried to move her arm. Nothing. Panic began to rise. She forced her eyes open. A white ceiling greeted her. For several seconds, she simply stared at it. Then voices drifted through the door.

”The wedding has been set,” a woman said excitedly. ”I still can’t believe the Alpha is really remarrying.”

Another woman laughed softly.

”I can understand why. Have you seen his bride? She looks like a goddess.”

”Exactly,” the first woman agreed. ”She almost reminds me of that ancient statue of Nyxoria in the mountain temple.”

Yuki’s brows slowly drew together. Wedding? Who were they talking about? The voices came closer.

”Speaking of the resemblance,” the second woman continued, her voice lowering conspiratorially, ”the coma patient looks so much like her. She really does look like a sleeping goddess.”

Yuki’s heart began to race.

”It’s such a shame,” the first woman said sadly. ”The poor girl suffered such severe internal injuries. They said she might remain in a vegetative state forever.”

Yuki’s eyes widened. The door handle turned. She tried to move. Nothing. Her body remained completely still. The door opened. Two nurses stepped inside, still talking quietly among themselves.

The first nurse glanced towards the bed. Then she froze. Yuki stared back at her. The nurse’s face went completely white. Her mouth fell open. For one terrifying second, neither of them moved. Then the nurse screamed.

”She’s awake!”

The second nurse spun around.

”What?”

”She’s awake!”

The first nurse stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet. The two women scrambled out of the room.

Their voices echoed down the corridor. Yuki stared blankly at the open doorway. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

The Alpha was getting married. Yuki stared at the ceiling, stunned.

She had no idea how long she had been unconscious. She didn’t know what had happened to Kieran, Killian, or Kaden. She didn’t know what had happened to her wolf.

Her fingers twitched weakly against the sheets. Yuki closed her eyes. She had a feeling waking up was only the beginning.

*******

Kieran sat alone in his laboratory office, surrounded by the quiet hum of machines and the sterile scent of antiseptic that seemed to cling to every corner of the Central Hospital’s research wing unaware of what was happening.