Alpha's Regret: I Burn for My Dead Daughter

Caught off-guard, I stumbled backward, my wolf instincts flaring at the familiar scent. "Olivia, who the hell do you think you are, blocking my mindlink?" Alpha Sean's growl rumbled, vibrating through the porch. Regaining my stance, I lifted my chin to meet his gaze. My eyes must have been as cold as the moonless night, because his brows furrowed. Ignoring his snarl, I kept my voice flat: "Let go of me, Alpha." His eyes darkened. "You forget your place." Instead of releasing me, his grip on my forearm tightened. That's when I slammed my heel down on his instep, channeling every ounce of wolf strength. He winced, grip faltering. I wrenched free and bolted up the stairs. "Olivia!" His voice dropped to a predatory growl. "Don't you dare-" "Touch me again," I snapped, ducking his grasp. Alpha Sean watched me dodge him like his touch carried silver poison, a mocking smirk twisting his lips. "Olivia," he purred, "is there a single inch of you I haven't marked with my alpha scent?" My expression iced over, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. "Our mate bond snapped " I spat. "Permanently." Whirling, I sprinted up the stairs. Behind me, he leaned against his enchanted cruiser, eyes tracking my retreat like a predator studying prey. slammed the door on it. On the third floor, my bedroom door almost closed before a boot wedged between the frame. Alpha Sean shouldered his way in. He flipped open an ivory gift box, the kind Jovia use for moonstone trinkets. "Ellie, look what Daddy brought you!" Silence. No pitter-patter of tiny feet. No excited whine. He paused, confusion furrowing his brow. Ellie wasn't Lily-she'd never thrown herself into his arms. But even so, her little voice would always call "Daddy!" "Still napping?" He set the box on the dresser, voice softening. He headed for the bedroom, but his posture stiffen as he took in the empty space. The bed was made, no sign of a pup. Just our clothes hanging side by side in the closet, Ellie's tiny dresses next to my battle leathers. "Where's Ellie?" He turned, eyes narrowing. I stood by the door, staring at that damned gift box-probably filled with the moonstone fashion he'd denied Ellie for years. "Ellie," I said, voice as cold as the Arctic wind, "you'll never see her again." His nostrils flared, picking up the scent of my grief. "What the hell does that mean?" Alpha Sean's face shadowed. As if he'd ever cared enough to know where his pup was. I didn't answer. My feet carried me to the table, hands shaking as I lifted the Elsa princess dress from the box. The silk felt like ice against my palms, and my vision blurred-this was the gift Ellie had begged for, the one he'd promised. Instead, it had adorned Lillian's back at her island party. Now he thought to pass along his cast-offs? Did he see Ellie as nothing more than a receptacle for his leftovers? "Alpha Sean," my voice cracked, "Ellie doesn't want your scraps!" I hurled the dress and box across the room, not caring that they flew like garbage. My pup's urn rested in the side room; I wouldn't let her "see" this mockery. He lunged too late. The box hit the floor, the custom dress spilling onto a smoldering cigarette butt-one of his, left from weeks ago. The silk caught fire, burning a ragged hole through the heart of it. "Olivia, have you lost your mind?!" His growl reverberated. But I stood my ground, the broken mate bond pulsing painfully. "Get out." Then his phone chimed-a custom ringtone I'd heard too often. It was Claire. He looked at me, eyes glacial, and answered the call. "Claire." His tone shifted instantly, soft as moonbeam. "Did you find Ellie? The island service center just called, asking when you and Ellie would arrive so they could prepare." "No, Ellie's not here." His gaze bored into me like silver spikes. His eyes turned colder still as he spoke into the phone: "Cancel island plan. I'm coming to you and Lily." Before leaving, he tossed a final warning over his shoulder: "If you have any spine, keep Ellie from mindlinking me." The door slammed shut, and the next moment, my knees buckled. I hit the floor with a thud, my back to him. Dimly, I heard his scoff: "Olivia, quit these pathetic tricks." His voice cut through the fog. He thought I was faking-again. In his mind, I'd always been the schemer: the she-wolf who drugged him on their anniversary, the mother who coached her pup to feign illness. He'd believed Claire's story that I'd sabotaged their bond; he'd ignored Ellie's real coughs for Lillian's fake tears. I tried to rise, to snarl at him to leave, but my body wouldn't obey. Dizziness washed over me, bringing memories: Ellie's last birthday call, the sound of her wet coughs over the line, Alpha Sean's laughter in the background at Lillian's party. Then I felt his hands-rough, familiar-yanking me up. "Don't think Eleanor's protection makes you untouchable!" His growl was cold, but it cut off abruptly. When he released me, I slumped again, too weak to stand. In the blur, I felt him catch me before I hit the floor. His arms were strong, like they used to be when we'd run through the packlands at night. But his scent now was different-tinged with Claire's and sweetness of Lillian's sickroom. "Olivia..." His voice was strange, as if he'd just realized the truth: my pallor wasn't an act. For the first time in years, his touch wasn't laced with anger-but by then, I'd already slipped under.