Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Return of the Crescent

*~ Lilith’s POV~*

I stood above the trees, my boots on the thickest branch, watching everything unfold.

Dahlia cracking away into dust

O’Brien is decaying and dying.

And my daughter... running with her mates, racing toward the High House. Fear clouded their movements. Dahlia mentioned that Cyrius was awake, stirring something deep inside of them.

They thought it was over.

Fools.

Although they constructed their plans perfectly, managing to take down Dahlia but only if they knew.

I waited until the battlefield was empty. Not a wolf remained. Then I dropped to the ground, standing on my knees, walking toward the exact spot where Dahlia’s body had cracked open and burned.

She wasn’t gone.

I knew her. Better than she knew herself. I grew up watching her, studying her, She had cast me away from my coven after I turned a crescent and since then I’ve hated her.

Dahlia doesn’t die.

She transfers. Always has. A spirit that leaps body to body, soul to soul—until she molds the next into her own.

But not this time. This time, I was going to end her.

I crouched low, dragging my fingers across the ashes, gathering the remnants of her acidic death into my palm. It hissed like it knew me.

"Versa!"

My voice cracked through the air like lightning.

The world blurred. My body shifted, flung through dimensions until I landed—there. In the void between lives, between death and rebirth.

And just like I predicted... There she was.

Dahlia.

Hovering. Clinging to the edge of a spectral barrier, wind howling all around her like a raging god. Her hair whipped violently, and when her eyes locked on mine, her strength faltered.

"Our plan failed."

Her voice was desperate, broken.

"I need to get back. Hold me. Please. Hold me.."

She reached for me. A trembling, pleading hand.

I didn’t move. I laughed in her face.

"You thought I would help you?" I said, slowly stepping forward. "The deal was for you to help me."

She looked confused. Scared.

"You wanted your family back, right?" she screamed. "To know where your imprisoned crescent here. You want your daughter to have a home? Peace? Then come help me?"

I tilted my head.

"Did you forget who I am?"

Her grip was slipping. Her soul flickering.

"I am Lilith."

And finally, the realization hit her. Her eyes slowly widened as a frown broke on her face.

"You used me," she whispered.

Her voice cracked laced with pain. Tears sprinkled in her eyes.

I smirked. "I killed two birds with one beautiful, burning stone."

"No..."

"Yes," I said. "I have my daughter. And now, thanks to you, I know where my people are. You think I came to that council meeting for fun? No, I came to tap into your presence. Your memories."

Dahlia screamed, "No! I won’t let that happen. I am Dahlia. I never die." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"And yet," I whispered, raising my palm, "you’re dying now."

"Versa."

The thunder roared. Winds shattered the barriers. Her screams vanished as her soul was torn from the air and hurled into the abyss below.

To hell. Where she belongs. For good.

My body shifted back to the battlefield—right where I had disappeared from moments ago. The smoke still lingered in the air, but I could breathe differently now.

I finally know where my family is.

I finally know where my pack is.

My Crescent.

Thanks to Marcus.

I flipped through every page, faster and faster, whispering incantations, trying to force the contents out. Still nothing. Just aged parchment and my rising fury.

With a scream, I hurled the book across the clearing. It thudded against a tree and slid to the ground like a corpse.

"No," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I’ve come too far. I won’t lose it all now."

"Lilith. Calm down."

I said it aloud. To myself. I took a breath. Then smiled. A damn spell book can’t break my resolve.

Picked up the book again. With more hope than ever. This time, I whispered, slower deeper.

"Versa."

To my surprise, the book pulsed. Glowed.

Then it began.

One by one, words emerged from the empty pages curving and bleeding into place like ink made of magic and bone. A language I hadn’t seen in centuries.

Valerian.

An ancient language. Only witches could understand.

It formed an image: a baby, swaddled in cloth... and blood. The symbol repeated. Blood. Infant.

My breath caught.

I knew it. But still...No way

The only way to bring back the Crescent...

It was through the blood of a child.. A baby.

Not just any baby.

My grandchild.

A slow smile curled on my lips. "Well then... let it be done." If it takes the blood of Hazel’s baby to wake my pack I will get it.

That shouldn’t be a problem.. The problem will be the amount of blood. But that will not stop me.

Who would’ve thought... my grandchild would become the key to restoring my pack?

Well.. No matter what.

Crescent will rise again.