I Died Waiting for My Alpha, Why Is He Begging Me to Stay Now?

POV: Elara

The private dining room at the Blackwood estate was heavy with the scent of roasted venison, aged wine, and polished mahogany.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting a warm glow over thirty senior pack members, council elders, and high-ranking lieutenants. They filled the long table, laughing and trading toasts in anticipation of the evening’s announcement.

At the head of the table sat Cassian. To his immediate right was Talia.

She wore a cream silk blouse that showed the neat medical bandage wrapped around her left wrist. Every few minutes, she leaned toward Cassian to whisper something, and he inclined his head, his posture protective and attentive.

Cassian’s mother, Lenora, moved around the table with an effortless social grace. When she reached the far end—past the junior officers, right beside the drafty service entrance—she tapped the back of an empty wooden chair.

"Elara, dear," Lenora called out, her voice loud enough to draw several curious glances. "Sit down here. Talia’s recovery requires proximity to Cassian's calming aura tonight. You understand, of course. A future Luna must know how to accommodate pack emergencies."

In my previous life, those words had felt like a slap in the face. I had stood in this exact room, my face burning with humiliation, before quietly pulling out that distant chair and sitting down. I had swallowed the insult because I thought enduring their cruelty was the price of becoming his wife.

This time, I didn't move toward the chair.

I stood by the arched stone doorway near the room's perimeter, my coat draped over my arm, my hands resting calmly in my pockets.

"Elara?" Lenora frowned, irritation tightening the corners of her mouth. "Did you hear me? Sit down so the staff can serve the first course."

"I'm fine where I am," I said evenly.

A murmur rippled down the table. Cassian looked up, his amber eyes narrowing across the distance between us. He gave me a sharp, warning look, the kind he used when he seemed to think I was making a scene over nothing.

Before he could speak, his father, Elder Blackwood, stood up at the head of the table.

The room instantly fell silent. The elder raised a heavy crystal goblet, his weathered face beaming with pride as he surveyed the gathered guests.

"Brothers and sisters of the northern territory," the old Alpha began, his voice booming against the timber beams. "Tonight, we mark a turning point for our bloodline. After months of preparation and council review, the date is set. In exactly six weeks, the Blackwood pack will officially welcome its new Luna."

The room erupted into cheers. Glasses clinked together in a chorus of ringing crystal. Lieutenants slapped the table, and the elders nodded in solemn approval. Talia joined in the applause, offering a soft, congratulatory smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Cassian sat back in his chair, a look of complete satisfaction settling over his sharp features.

He raised his glass toward me across the long room, his lips curving into a calm, proprietary smile.

Judging by the satisfaction on his face, he seemed to think this was the end of the argument. My refusal to move into the residence and my coldness at the clinic were, apparently, just childish tantrums, easily wiped away by the grand title he was offering me. Nothing in his expression suggested he had considered that a woman from an ordinary bloodline might walk away from him.

The applause began to fade, settling into an expectant hush as everyone turned toward me, waiting for the bride's gracious acknowledgment.

I took a breath and stepped away from the doorway.

My shoes made a crisp, steady sound against the hardwood as I walked the length of the long table. Every eye followed me. Lenora watched with a smug expression, as if assuming I had finally come to my senses and intended to take my place.

I walked straight past the empty chair at the foot of the table. I walked past the seated council members, past the junior officers, and past Talia.

I stopped directly in front of Cassian.

He looked up at me, his smile broadening slightly, as if expecting me to take his hand.

Instead, I reached into my pocket, pulled out the silver band crowned with the Blackwood family diamond, and opened my palm.

I let it drop.

The heavy ring hit the polished table with a sharp, echoing *clack*, rolling across the dark wood before coming to a rest beside Cassian's wine glass.

The room went dead silent.

Someone dropped a silver fork, the clatter deafening in the stillness.

Cassian’s smile vanished. The color drained from his face, replaced instantly by disbelief. "Elara? What is the meaning of this?"

"There won't be a wedding," I said.

My voice was neither loud nor trembling. It carried through the quiet hall with absolute clarity.

"I am leaving for Frostmoor."

Talia let out a soft gasp, covering her mouth with her good hand. Elder Blackwood froze, his goblet hovering mid-air, while the surrounding council members stared in stunned silence.

Lenora was the first to recover. A harsh, contemptuous laugh broke from her throat as she stepped up beside her son.

"Frostmoor?" she sneered, crossing her arms. "That glorified Omega training camp in the freezing north? Don't make a fool of yourself, Elara. You think throwing a childish fit and threatening to attend a backwater school will make Cassian beg you to stay?"

"My research fellowship is not a trade school, Lady Lenora."

The voice came from the main entrance, low, deep, and carrying a biting cold that made the temperature in the dining hall plummet instantly.

The heavy double doors swung wide.

Ronan Frost stepped into the room.

He was dressed in a tailored charcoal coat, the silver crest of the High Northern Academy pinned to his lapel. His pale, assessing eyes swept over the room, freezing every elder who met his gaze. The aura rolling off him wasn't the loud, aggressive dominance of a regional Alpha—it was ancient, absolute, and impossibly heavy.

The council elders half-rose from their seats, their faces turning pale. Even Elder Blackwood straightened his posture, his expression guarded and suddenly tense.

"Lord Frost," Elder Blackwood said, his voice faltering slightly. "We were not informed of an academic delegation visiting our territory."

Ronan didn't look at him. He walked straight past the long table, the crowd parting instinctively before him, until he stopped at my side.

He looked down at me, his gaze calm and steady. "Are you ready, Elara?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation.

"Elara!"

Cassian slammed both hands onto the table, shoving his heavy oak chair back with a violent screech. He stood to his full height, his chest heaving as his Alpha aura flared in raw, suffocating waves, rattling the wine glasses.

"Step away from him right now," Cassian commanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, ragged growl.

His eyes burned with dark fury as he stared at me, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack bone. "If you walk out that door tonight, don't you dare expect me to come chasing after you."

I looked at him.

I looked at the sharp line of his jaw, the arrogant set of his shoulders, and the furious certainty in his eyes.

In my mind, the image shattered into pieces, replaced by the sterile white ceiling of the delivery room. I remembered the rhythmic beeping of the failing monitor. I remembered my daughter’s tiny, freezing fingers slipping from my palm. I remembered the eleven minutes of suffocating silence while he wrapped his coat around another woman.

My heart didn't ache. It didn't race. It felt as still as a winter lake.

"We will see," I said.

I didn't wait to see his reaction. I turned on my heel and walked out into the cold night beside Ronan, leaving Cassian standing alone in the wreckage of his own house.