Chapter 4 Four

CHAPTER FOUR: The Alpha's Regret

Kael Darius POV

The scent of smoke clung to the walls of my chamber like a curse. Not fire. Not wood. Her. Aria. No matter how many times I bathed, how many furs I burned, or how deeply Seraphina pressed herself into my arms at night, the ghost of her refused to leave. She was in the air. In my head. In my blood. Even now, days after casting her out like she was nothing I had convinced myself she was, her presence haunted me with maddening persistence. Seraphina purred behind me, draped in silk and smugness as she traced her claws down my bare chest. "You're quiet tonight, my Alpha." I didn't respond. She leaned in, lips brushing my ear. "Thinking of your little pet?" My jaw clenched. "She was never mine." Seraphina laughter was light and poisonous. "No, she was beneath you. An omega. Trash." "She served her purpose." Liar. I turned away and poured myself a drink, the amber liquid splashing into crystal as we let the quiet build between us. Outside, the moon gave a silver light to all of Bloodmoon's domain, showing every inch that I owned. But power had never felt so empty. The court had celebrated Aria's rejection. The elders praised me. The warriors toasted to my strength, my future heirs, my perfect Luna. My mother, Luna Mira Darius has also praised me for letting go of what she described as an unwanted Luna with bad lucks, but as much as I want her gone for good, she still remains in my mind like a fresh painted portrait and I'm beginning to get frustrated with each passing days. And yet... every night, I found myself staring at the door, waiting for a presence that would never return. Seraphina slinked across the floor like a serpent, wrapping herself around me again. "You did the right thing, Kael. The pack needed a strong Luna. One with lineage. With pedigree." "She was loyal," I said before I could stop myself. Seraphina stilled. "She was obedient," I added quickly, masking the slip. "You mean she was weak," Seraphina corrected with venom. "And if you still crave the taste of weakness, I can show you how to punish it properly." I pushed her away, harder than I intended. She gasped and stumbled, but I didn't care. "I don't want her," I said slowly through my teeth. "I don't even think about her." But I did. I thought about the way her eyes had looked, shattered, but proud when I spat those final words. I reject you. The bond hadn't snapped clean. No. It had ripped, jagged and unfinished, like part of me was still tethered to her bleeding soul. I should've ended her. Instead, I had let the guards drag her out, kicking and sobbing, leaving trails of her blood on my floor like a curse. A mistake. And mistakes always came back to bite. The knock came at dawn. My Beta, Dren, and my mother, Luna Mira Darius entered without waiting for permission, their face pale, eyes wide. Dren carried a letter sealed in obsidian wax. I took it, frowning. "From who?" "Ronan Thorne," he said, his voice hollow. The name punched the air from my lungs. The Lycan King. I broke the seal and read quickly, my heart thudding with every line. It was formal. Regal. Cold. It also confirmed my worst fear. He had her. Aria Quinn. Alive. In his court. Under his protection. And worse... trained. "She survived?" I whispered. Dren nodded slowly. "We... we thought she wouldn't last the night." "She was bleeding. Barely breathing-," "She's a fighter, Alpha." A fighter. I laughed. A bitter, hollow sound. My mother snatched the letter from me in anger, " I can't believe she throw her self to the lycan king, how outrageous." Seraphina stood by the window now, her hands balled into fists. "She must have run straight to him," she hissed. "Whoring herself to the first royal she could find. Pathetic little-" "Watch your mouth," I growled. She turned on me, eyes flashing. "You're defending her? After everything?" "I'm not defending her." My voice dropped. "I'm trying to understand how she walked out of here broken... and ended up in the arms of a king." Seraphina crossed her arms. "Maybe he likes picking up garbage." "No," I muttered. "Ronan doesn't pick up garbage. He collects weapons." Dren paled again. "You think he's using her?" My mother looked at me angrily and said, " I told you to personally kill her but you didn't, you went ahead to give such an important task to your slow witted guards, now look at what is happening." I didn't respond. I couldn't. Because deep down, I knew the truth. Aria wasn't some pawn in a king's game. She was the kind of piece that could tip the board. If Ronan saw in her what I had spent years ignoring, strength, will, fire then he wouldn't waste her. He'd crown her. The thought made bile rise in my throat. I dismissed everyone away from my chambers, I needed silence. Needed to think. I walked around the room like a trap animal. What if she told him everything? About our pack. Our weaknesses. Our council's secrets. What if she turned those doe eyes on him and whispered truths I had sworn to bury? No. She wouldn't. She couldn't. But even as I tried to convince myself, my wolf snarled inside me. You don't know her anymore. That night, I dreamed of her. Not broken. Not begging. But standing tall, in armor forged of moonlight, with werewolves at her back and power in her gaze. Facing me not as an omega. But as a queen. I woke up with her name on my lips, heart pounding, drenched in sweat. Just as I began to pour another drink, the wind outside howled unnatural, furious. A raven slammed into my window, blood sprayed the glass. I moved toward it, instincts on edge. Tied to its leg was a single parchment. I unwrapped it slowly, dreading what I would see. It wasn't a letter. It was a portrait. Sketched in ink and rage. Aria Quinn. Dressed in royal gold. Standing beside King Ronan Thorne, his arm around her waist. And beneath it, scrawled in blood-red script. "She was never yours." The glass shattered in my hand. And for the first time in my life... I felt fear.