Alpha's Regret: I Burn for My Dead Daughter

The air grew thick with heat-his scent, my panic, the lingering ghost of a kiss. Alpha Sean pulled me closer, his arms like iron bands around my waist. I stirred from the nightmare, gasping as my eyes fluttered open to the bedroom ceiling. For a heartbeat, the grief felt so tangible I thought Ellie's loss was a fresh wound, not a festering scar. Then his presence hit me, overwhelming my senses. Without thought, I shoved at his chest. "Let me go, Alpha Sean." For half a decade, he'd ignored my pain, my pleas, my very existence. I'd swallowed my pride for Ellie, hoping to stitch together a family that was never meant to be. Now our pup was ashes in an urn-what right did he have to ignore the bond I'd broken? "Did you hear me? Let go!" I thrashed harder, my wolf snarling at the violation. When his mouth descended again, I bit down on his lip-hard. Copper filled my mouth, his blood mixing with my tears. He jolted back, stunned, and I seized the chance to shove him off, rolling free. I scrambled to my feet, ragged breaths tearing at my throat. Days without food left me dizzy, black spots dancing in my vision, but I held the blanket like a shield. My stance must have been a sorry sight-half-starved, wild-eyed-but it doused whatever fire had flared in him. He rolled out of bed, dressing in silence. His phone slipped from his pocket, screen lighting up with a dozen missed calls from Lillian. Without a backward glance, he was gone, the door clicking shut like a final nail in the coffin. The moment he left, my legs gave out. I collapsed onto the bed, then forced myself up, stumbling to the side room. My fingers closed around Ellie's urn, cool against my skin. "He's gone, pup," I whispered, tears spilling over. "But we're still here." Downstairs, his car engine rumbled to life. I knew where he was going: to Rosewood Gardens, where Claire and Lillian waited. I could almost hear Lillian's little feet pattering to meet him, her squeal of joy as he lifted her up. My wolf howled silently. Alpha Sean's pov When Lillian saw me climb out of the car, she turned her nose up with a dramatic huff. "My little princess is in a mood?" I walked over, scooping her into my arms. She wrapped tiny hands around my neck, tilting her chin with a pout. "Kiss me, Daddy, and I'll forgive you." I pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her face lit up, giggles vibrating against my throat. She nuzzled into my neck, all warmth and adoration. This was how a pup should be-bright, quick to smile, her temper as fleeting as summer rain. Claire had done well with her. Not like Ellie, who'd learned from Olivia to brood over every missed promise. "Dinner's ready," Claire called from the doorway, untangling her apron strings. As I approached, she gave a helpless laugh. "Lily heard me calling this morning and got excited. When you didn't come, she kept dialing-couldn't stop her. I hope we didn't interrupt..." "Just got delayed," I said flatly, carrying Lillian inside. Under the kitchen lights, Claire's gaze flickered to my split lip. The bite mark was obvious. Her smile wavered. She thought Olivia had kept me there with her body. Let her think what she wanted. At nine-thirty, I tucked Lillian in with a bedtime story. She burrowed into my arms, voice soft. "Daddy, stay tonight. Sleep with me and Mommy, please?" Claire emerged from the bathroom, frowning. "Lily, don't be rude." The pup's lip trembled, tears welling. "I'm not being silly! I just want to sleep with Daddy and Mommy." Tears fell, plinking down her cheeks. Sobbing, she asked, "Why can other pups sleep with their parents, but I can't?" My heart softened. Claire hurried to the bed, bending to soothe her. Her focus was entirely on her crying pup, her voice gentle as she coaxed, "Lily, hush now, don't cry. The healer said you can't get too worked up, remember?" Lillian shook her head wildly, tiny fingers clutching my sleeve. "Daddy, please stay!" Normally, I'd cave-her pouts were impossible to resist-but something held me back. Claire's smile faltered, though she tried to hide it. "Don't mind her, Alpha Sean. She's just tired." When I pried Lillian's hands off me, her wails turned desperate, like a pup separated from its pack. "Just one night! I'm begging you!" Her little body shook, and I remembered the healer's warning: stress could relapse her condition. "Fine," I relented, "I'll stay."