The Alpha’s Regret and the Luna’s Departure

I had already reached the pack house gates when Alarics voice cut through the night air, calm and merciless as ever.

Elira. Leave the moonstone bracelet.

I stopped.

He didnt even spare me a glance when he said it. His attention was already on Nyrathe young omega now carrying the future heir of the Blackthorne Pack.

Shes been plagued by nightmares, he said lightly, as though that alone justified everything.

My fingers curled around the bracelet on my wrist.

It wasnt ordinary jewelry. The moonstone had belonged to my mother, blessed by the Moon Goddess before my parents died during a rogue attack. It was the last thing they left methe only warmth I carried through years spent standing beside Alaric, through bloody pack disputes, territory wars, and endless nights ruling at the Alphas side while pretending his coldness no longer wounded me.

My eyes stung, but I refused to cry.

Only then did Alaric finally look at me, his silver Alpha eyes empty and detached.

Name your price.

As if nine years as his mate could be traded like livestock at a market gathering.

A bitter laugh nearly escaped me.

There was no point speaking of value anymore. Not after the winter hunt, when Nyra admired my wolf-fur cloak and Alaric left me alone in the frozen mountains after forcing me to hand it over to her. I still remembered stumbling through the snow barefoot while they rode home together beneath the full moon.

So this time, I simply slid the bracelet from my wrist.

My hand trembled only once before I placed it gently into Nyras palm.

May the Moon Goddess protect your pup, I whispered.

For a moment, the air shifted strangely between us.

Then Alaric spoke again, almost as if granting mercy.

Elira, know your place. If you remain obedient, my heir may still call you family one day.

The words had barely settled when the bracelet slipped from Nyras fingers.

It shattered against the stone floor.

The crack echoed through the hall like a terrible omen.

Nyra gasped softly as a shard nicked her leg, thin blood staining the hem of her pale dress.

Alaric moved instantly.

The feared Alpha of the Blackthorne Pack crossed the hall in seconds, lifting her carefully into his arms while growling orders for the pack healer.

Around them, the wolves of the pack watched in silence, some amused, others pitying me openly.

Even I almost found it laughable.

Especially after last night.

When my heart pain had driven me to collapse near the hearth while Alaric prepared to leave for a moonlit ride with Nyra, he had simply stepped around my body. Without pause, without concern. The only order he gave was for the servants to cleanse the room with wolfsbane incense before Nyra arrived the next day, so she would not smell sickness.

I tightened my grip on my travel bag and turned toward the gates once more.

That was when Alaric seized my wrist.

Apologize.

The Alpha command in his voice struck like chains around my throat.

Before I could react, he dragged me downward.

My knees slammed against shattered moonstone fragments scattered across the floor. Pain tore through me instantly. Blood spread beneath my legs across the polished stone.

Disgust flickered across Alarics face as he released me.

You broke her bracelet and injured her, he said coldly. And you think you can leave without apologizing?

In this pack, I had long ago learned my place.

I apologized for everything.

For meals not to his liking.

For speaking when unspoken.

For existing too close to Nyra.

Sorry had become the language of survival.

So despite the pain, I forced myself upright, lowered my head before Nyra, and apologized three times.

Only then did I look back at Alaric.

Is that enough?

Silence swallowed the hall.

His gaze lingered on the blood at the corner of my lips, something unreadable darkening his expression.

Elira, he said slowly, almost mockingly, your old guardian wolf is gone. Who are you trying so hard to impress now?

Before I could answer, the pack healer rushed inside.

Alaric never looked at me again. His full attention had already returned to Nyra.

That was my chance.

I turned and walked quickly toward the gates.

No hesitation this time.

The moment I crossed beyond the pack borders, two horn calls echoed from the forest path.

A silver carriage waited beneath the trees, moonlight glinting against its frame.

My pace quickened.

But before I could reach it, the iron gates burst open behind me.

Two pack enforcers grabbed my arms and dragged me back toward the estate

as though I had never been free to leave at all.

Inside the Alphas study, I was restrained like a rogue awaiting judgment.

The Blackthorne Pack did not call it punishment. They called it a necessary offering. But I knew the truth. This pack house was a kingdom built on power, and Alaric ruled it like an unquestioned Alpha. When he decided something mattered, even blood became tribute.

The pack healer stood beside me hesitantly, silver bowls and moonstone instruments spread across the table. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed the ritual blade against my wrist.

Pain tore through me the moment my skin split open, warm blood flowing into the carved basin beneath.

I did not make a sound.

Beyond the half-open door, I heard the healer trying once more to reason with Alaric.

Alpha Luna Eliras blood carries the same rare moon-blood as Miss Nyras, but her heart has been weak since childhood. If too much is taken, her wolf may fall into permanent slumber. It would be safer to bring Miss Nyra before the Moon Shrine instead of forcing another transfer

Enough.

Alarics voice cut through the hall like an Alpha command.

Cold. Absolute.

Your duty is to stabilize Nyra and my heir. Nothing else matters.

Footsteps approached slowly.

The healer lowered his head immediately as Alaric entered the study.

I closed my eyes before he reached me.

Does it hurt?

His voice softened slightly, which somehow felt crueler than his anger.

Endure it a little longer. It will soon be over.

I turned my face away in silence.

There was nothing left between us worth saying.

The blood ritual continued without mercy. Bowl after bowl filled beside me while coldness spread through my limbs. By the end, my lips had turned pale blue, my body trembling as though I had been abandoned beneath winter rain.

Then a faint cough echoed from the upper floor.

Nyra.

That single sound changed everything.

Alaric immediately looked toward the stairs.

Continue, he ordered. Take more.

The healer froze in horror.

Alpha, if we continue the extraction, her wolf may not recover. She could die from the shock

Alaric paused for only a moment.

Then he answered flatly,

Nyra carries my pup. Her life comes first.

Silence swallowed the room.

Even the guards outside lowered their heads uneasily.

The healer still looked hesitant, but I spoke before he could protest again.

Finish it, I whispered weakly. Then let me leave the pack.

Even to myself, my voice sounded distant.

For the first time, something dark flickered across Alarics facenot guilt, not regret. Irritation. As though my surrender had somehow ruined his control over the situation.

Are you done causing trouble? he said coldly. You think you can leave this pack over something so minor?

From upstairs, Nyras sweet voice drifted down softly through the mindlink.

Alaric

Immediately, his attention shifted.

Without another glance at me, he turned and walked away.

The ritual continued while I lay there bleeding onto sacred stone.

**

Two days later, I woke inside the pack infirmary beneath heavy guard.

My wolf had finally collapsed from the strain.

When I opened my eyes, Alaric sat beside my bed reading territory reports as though nothing had happened. As though I had not nearly died because of him.

Our eyes met.

He did not look away.

After a long silence, he set the papers aside and lifted a bowl of medicinal broth from the table.

Ill feed you.

I shook my head faintly.

I can manage.

This time, he allowed it.

The room remained silent except for the soft clink of the spoon against the bowl. The air felt suffocating, controlled, like even breathing required the Alphas permission.

Then he finally spoke again.

Does anything hurt?

It almost sounded like concern.

Almost.

Can I have my communication crystal back? I asked quietly instead.

My tone held no anger anymore.

Only exhaustion.

Something in his expression paused before he called for a servant and ordered it returned.

The crystal glowed the moment it touched my hand.

Dozens of missed mindlink requests appeared at once.

Alaric noticed immediately.

His gaze sharpened.

Who has been trying to contact you?

In the past, he would never have cared enough to ask.

I lowered my eyes.

You do not know them.

It was the safest answer.

Alaric leaned back slightly, loosening the collar of his dark tunic the way he always did when his patience began thinning.

Elira, he said quietly, how long do you plan to continue this behavior?

A warning.

Familiar and practiced.

You think silence will earn my attention?

Before, I would have apologized immediately. I would have forced myself smaller just to keep peace inside this pack.

This time, I simply pointed toward the glowing crystal beside him.

It is Nyra, I said softly. She is calling for you.

The change in him was immediate.

The tension vanished from his face at once, replaced by something gentler.

Without another word to me, Alaric rose and stepped outside to answer her through the mindlink.

The moment he disappeared beyond the doorway

my crystal glowed again.

I accepted the mindlink before the connection had fully settled.

His voice reached me immediately, restless and edged with impatience.

You said you would come see me, Elira. Are you changing your mind?

No, I answered softly, stepping farther from the infirmary bed. I am not changing my mind. Something unexpected happened.

A pause.

Then his voice sharpened with concern.

What happened? I should return from England at once

There is no need, I interrupted gently before his worry could grow into something larger. Just give me a few more days.

Silence stretched between us before he finally agreed reluctantly and severed the mindlink.

I had barely lowered the moonstone communication crystal when the infirmary door opened.

Alaric stepped inside.

His timing had always been like thatprecise enough to feel dangerous.

His eyes settled on me instantly.

More specifically, on the faint smile I had not realized still lingered on my face. Small. Fragile. Almost unfamiliar after so many years beside him.

Something flickered briefly in his expression.

But Nyra was waiting for him back at the pack house. Earlier through the pack mindlink, she had asked him to return quickly and sing to the unborn pup resting in her wombas though the heir of the Blackthorne Pack would inherit lullabies instead of bloodshed and territorial wars.

So Alaric asked nothing.

Not who I had spoken to.

Not why I had smiled.

He simply assumed what he always hadthat outside of him, my world was empty.

He gathered the territory scrolls from the table beside my bed and spoke without looking at me.

There are urgent matters within the western borders. I will not return tonight.

Tonight.

Then tomorrow.

Then perhaps never again.

Without waiting for my response, he turned and left.

And just like that, he disappeared from my world once more.

**

The days that followed carried news through pack whispers and wandering mindlinks.

Even without leaving the infirmary, I heard everything.

Alaric had been seen attending moon banquets with Nyra at his side, his arm resting possessively around her waist while introducing her to neighboring Alphas as though she had always belonged there.

The feared Alpha of the Blackthorne Pack moved beside her with a patience and gentleness I had never once received.

Some wolves even joked quietly that their Alpha finally looked like a man choosing peace after years of war.

The day I was released from the infirmary, the pack crystal network lit up with a newly shared memory fragment from Alaric himself.

Nine images.

A sunset flight beneath floating sky lanterns.

Crimson clouds melting into gold.

And at the center of every memory

Alaric cradling Nyras face while kissing her as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

I stared at the glowing crystal for a long while before leaving a single response beneath it.

[May the Moon Goddess bless you both with a long life and many pups.]

Then I extinguished the crystal completely.

Ten minutes later, it began glowing again with repeated mindlink requests.

I ignored every one.

Half an hour later, I signed my release papers alone and left the infirmary.

I did not expect to see them there.

Outside the healers hall for expectant she-wolves, Alaric stood beside Nyra, one protective hand resting lightly over her stomach as though his entire world now centered around the pup growing inside her.

My steps slowed instinctively.

Nearby, one of the healers spoke warmly enough for everyone nearby to hear.

Lady Nyra, Alpha Alaric truly treasures you. He has not missed a single examination.

The healer laughed softly before continuing.

During your moon-womb reading, he worried the sacred oil would be too cold against your skin, so he warmed it himself before allowing us to continue.

Around us, several pregnant she-wolves turned with visible envy in their eyes.

Admiration.

Longing.

I stood frozen.

Slowly, my hand drifted toward my own lower stomach.

There had once been a life there too.

A pup I never got to keep.

The memory struck without warning.

That night after the carriage accident, I had lain bleeding across the healers floor while desperately trying to reach Alaric through the mindlink.

When he finally answered, the face that appeared within the crystal projection was not his alone.

It was Nyra.

Half-dressed and smiling sweetly while leaning against his chest.

Luna Elira, she had said gently, Alpha Alaric lost a wager to me tonight, so he is being punished. He cannot answer you right now. Did you need something?

I could no longer remember what I had wanted to say.

I only remembered ending the connection.

Less than a minute later, Alaric contacted me himself.

And when I answered, his voice carried nothing but irritation.

He told me I always turned everything into drama.

That I could not even protect the pup I carried, so what right did I have to complain?

Then, with cruel indifference, he added that perhaps if I had been more careful, none of it would have happened.

I blinked hard, forcing myself back into the present as footsteps approached.

Alaric suddenly stood before me.

His expression remained unreadable, but his voice turned sharp.

What are you doing standing here?

Instinct immediately forced my gaze downward.

I was not following you, I answered quietly. We simply crossed paths. I apologize.

The words came naturally.

Like breathing.

Like survival.

Alaric frowned slightly, as though something about my obedience unsettled him for the first time.

He opened his mouth to speak again

Wait.

Nyras voice cut in softly.

But when I looked at her, I caught it instantly

the sharp possessiveness hidden beneath her gentle smile.

And for the first time, it no longer felt like two women standing beside the same Alpha.

It felt like the beginning of a war blessed by blood and moonlight.

Nyras fingers tightened around Alarics arm as though she had every right to claim him, then she turned her sweet gaze on me.

Mrs. Viremont, she said softly, tilting her head with practiced innocence, thank you for the blood offering earlier. If not for you, I would still be weak.

Her smile deepened.

Then, in that same gentle tone that always carried a hidden blade, she added, Alaric may we bring her back to the estate? She should not be left alone in such a state, right?

Alaric did not even hesitate.

He reached up and pinched Nyras cheek fondly, as if she were something precious carved by the Moon Goddess herself.

My little dove is always so kind, he murmured with a low, pleased laugh. Anything you wish.

That was the end of it.

I had already intended to return for my belongings, so I offered no protest. In his world, protest only mattered if he chose to hear it.

We returned in a black war-carriage of the Blackthorne Houseiron-bound wood, reinforced with beast-hide, warded by old sigils etched into its frame. The interior was silent, heavy with the scent of aged leather and iron.

As if the night itself had been sealed away with us.

Nyra shifted suddenly beside him.

Oh what is this?

She reached into the seam of the seat and pulled out a strip of lace cloth, holding it delicately between two fingers like she had uncovered proof of sin.

Alaric, she said lightly, though her eyes sharpened beneath her lashes, didnt you say the servants had cleansed everything thoroughly?

She leaned into his shoulder, tapping his chest in mock complaint.

Alaric actually laughed.

Not the cold, restrained sound I was used tobut something warmer. Almost indulgent.

He apologized to her at once, saying it must have been overlooked, while his gaze slid briefly toward me.

Watching.

Waiting.

For a reaction.

When none cameno anger, no jealousy, not even a flickerhis expression tightened almost imperceptibly.

And something in him soured.

Elira, he said suddenly, his voice sharpening as the carriage rolled through the moonlit road, you have been staring at your phone-crystal since we departed.

Possessiveness edged beneath his calm like a hidden fang.

Who sent you word? Your kin? Or some stranger I do not know of?

I had already arranged passage beyond the seas.

So I simply closed the crystal and returned it to my satchel.

I was only reading messages from the village, I answered evenly.

His mood darkened further.

Without warning, he reached over and took the crystal from my hands.

Speak the passphrase, he ordered.

My birth-night, I said without looking at him.

Nine years. A bond once sealed before Moonstone altar and witnesses of the pack.

He entered it once.

Wrong.

Again.

Still wrong.

The crystal sealed itself with a dull pulse, rejecting him.

Silence settled between us after that.

When we reached the estate, it was as though nothing had shifted at all.

Alaric stepped out first and immediately lifted Nyra into his arms, careful as she clutched her stomach and murmured of discomfort. He carried her inside without a glance backward.

At once, he ordered the hearth prepared, her preferred dishes cooked, the healers summoned if she so much as frowned.

I followed at a distance and turned toward the guest wing.

Only then did he pauselike he had just remembered I still existed within his lands.

Add two more dishes, he said without turning. Prepare the usual fare for the lady of the house. Set three places at table tonight.

Not kindness.

Routine.

Like assigning space to something already fading from importance.

When I entered my chamber, something felt wrong at once.

My travel chest lay open.

Every garment I had packed was torn into strips, scattered across the floor like discarded offerings. The cuts were precise. Deliberate. Not ragebut message.

Only the hidden compartment remained untouched.

My sealed travel writs were still inside.

That was when I understood.

I was never meant to leave freely.

I gathered them quickly and turned toward the door.

But Nyra was already there.

She held a small black vial between her fingers, examining me as though I were something already broken beyond use.

I truly did not expect this, she said lightly. You endure far more than I thought.

Her smile widened as she stepped inside.

I entered your bond, stole your place in the hall, turned you into a joke among the packs and still you cling to Blackthorne.

Then she tilted her head, almost amused.

Ah your last protection, House Valeheart, fell last moon, did it not? Without them, what are you now besides a shadow at Alarics heel?

She lifted a small carved tablet.

A memory fragment.

A shore beneath dying sunlight. Gold spilling across water. A kiss.

He did not come to your grandmothers passing rites, she said sweetly. He chose this instead. He promised me that sunset.

Something inside me cracked cleanly.

I moved before thought.

The tablet struck the ground from her hand as I seized her throat.

The vial slipped from her fingers and shattered.

A sharp scent filled the air at once.

Lamp-oil.

Before I could react, she stumbled back with a startled cry.

The spill spread.

And then

a spark caught.

Fire took the chamber like it had been waiting for permission.

Flames climbed the wood and stone too quickly for breath to follow. Smoke choked my lungs in an instant, and my strength failed beneath me as I collapsed, coughing, vision breaking apart.

Through the roar of fire, I heard it.

Alarics voice.

Elira!

Then chaosguards shouting, boots striking stone, men trying to hold him back.

Alpha! The fire is consuming the wingwait for the fire-walkers

Move, he snarled. She is still inside.

The door burst open.

He came through the flames like a warlord breaking siege, ignoring heat and smoke alike.

But he was not alone in what he sought.

Nyras voice rose immediately through the burning air.

Alaric please

He did not hesitate.

Did not look at me.

He lifted her into his arms and turned away.

And walked out.

As though I had already been left behind long before the fire ever began.

Half a bell later, the blaze was contained. The wing reduced to ash and ruin. No trace of me remained within it.

That night, beneath the sky stone arch of the port beyond the pack lands, I coughed blood into my sleeve, sealed a couriers packet with trembling hands, and boarded the ship to Albion alone.

Before the sails were raised, my crystal pulsed once.

A message.

Alaric.

[Cease this folly.]

[Nyras moon-healer appointment is at the tenth bell. You will attend and assist with her breath ritual afterward.]

I read it once.

Then I removed the crystal shard from its chain, crushed it in my palm, and let the dust fall into the sea wind.

The horizon stretched ahead like a cut between lives.

And for the first time

I did not look back.