Alpha's Regret: I Burn for My Dead Daughter

The morning after Alpha Sean stormed out, my phone buzzed with a call from Claire. " Let's meet at The Black Wolf Café," she purred, as if we were old confidantes. I almost deleted the message, but something in her tone-too sweet, too calculated-pulled me in. Ellie's urn sat on the windowsill, watching me like a silent judge. I owed it to her to face this head-on. The café's bell jingled as I stepped inside. Claire waved from a corner table, her smile so bright it hurt my eyes. "Olivia, darling! Over here!" She acted like I hadn't backhanded her across the hospital corridor a week ago. That's Claire for you-always the perfect actress, even with a slap mark still fading on her cheek. I slid into the chair across from her, keeping my expression blank. The scent of cappuccino wafted up, but I didn't touch it. "Cut the crap," I said, voice flat. "Why am I here?" Claire didn't flinch. She reached under the table and pulled out a designer shopping bag, pushing it toward me with manicured nails. "Alpha Sean left these at my place last night," she said, lips curving into a smirk. "Thought you might want them back." My gaze dropped to the bag. A pair of men's boxers peeked out from the top-Alpha Sean's favorite brand, the ones he'd worn when we used to lie in bed together. The fabric still held a faint trace of his scent, now mingled with Claire's floral perfume. My wolf snarled inside me, but I forced her down. "Funny," I said, pushing the bag back. "I don't remember Alpha Sean ever leaving his clothes at my place after spending the night with you." "If he left them, you should return them to him. I don't take hand-me-downs from mistresses." Claire's smile faltered for a second, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, Olivia," she sighed, twirling a lock of hair. "Still so defensive. I just thought-" "You thought wrong." I stood up, knocking the chair back. "Next time you want to flaunt your conquest, do it somewhere else. I have better things to do than look at your leftovers." Before she could retort, a familiar chill prickled the back of my neck-a warning from my wolf instincts. I didn't need to turn to know who'd arrived. Claire spun around, her voice suddenly breathless. "Alpha Sean, what are you doing here?" She sidled up to him, pressing close as if staking a claim. But his gaze burned into me, colder than the Arctic winds that haunted our pack's northern borders. Claire's lips curled into a smirk, and I could almost taste the triumph on her breath. She reached for Alpha Sean's sleeve, her touch feather-light, voice dripping with false concern. "Alpha Sean, don't be mad. Olivia didn't do anything to me this time." I watched him tense, his gaze still locked on me like I was the enemy. He'd always been so quick to believe Claire, to side with her without a second thought. Eight years ago,Claire appeared out of nowhere, and overnight, she became the center of his universe. In his eyes, I was nothing but the villain in their love story. The conniving she-wolf who'd drugged him on their anniversary, the jealous rival who'd slandered Claire at every turn. Every accusation, every misunderstanding, had once felt like a silver blade to my heart. I'd begged him to listen, to see the truth, but his mind was sealed shut, clouded by his devotion to her. But that was then. I needed this to end,like severing a rotten limb. "Claire," I said, voice steady as stone, "Alpha Sean and I dissolved our bond. Keep whatever he leaves at your place. Trash belongs in the dump." I turned to go, refusing to let my gaze linger on his stormy eyes. But the moment I brushed past, his hand clamped around my wrist. "Let go!" I snarled, yanking against him. Pain shot up my arm, but he only squeezed harder, his expression a mask of ice. "Didn't you hear Claire? I didn't lay a hand on her!" He dragged me toward the door, ignoring my protests. So I stopped struggling, matching his stride. In my head, I started counting. One... two... Before I reached three, a frail voice whimpered behind us. "Alpha Sean..." followed by a thud. Claire lay crumpled on the floor, looking as fragile as a broken bird. His hold on me vanished instantly. He spun away, all focus on her. "Claire!" I stood there, rubbing my bruised wrist, watching him kneel at her side. I didn't need to turn around to see the panic on his face. My gaze dropped to the red welts on my wrist, where his fingers had dug in. A humorless smile tugged at my lips. How many times had he chosen Claire over me? Too many to count. But this? This was the final straw. No more tallying, no more hoping for a different outcome. After storming out of the café, I drove to the mall, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles ached. I needed paper, pencils-anything to lose myself in the fashion design competition. For the past week, I'd been haunting graveyards across Joravia, searching for a plot for Ellie. The good ones, with alignment to the moon's energy, cost a fortune-at least a million. Money. That's what Alpha Sean had always thrown at problems. For years, he'd given me ten grand a month, like pocket change. At first, it felt like a lifeline. I saved what I could, lived frugally. But then Ellie got sick. The hospital bills started piling up: enchanted scans, rare herbs, specialists who only took payment in moonstones. Ten grand became a drop in the ocean. I remember the first time I asked him for more. He was in his study, signing off on a packdeal that probably cost more than Ellie's entire treatment. "She's your pup too," I'd said, voice shaking. He'd looked up from his papers, eyes blank. "Olivia, don't be dramatic. I provide for you."