All Chapters of Alpha's Regret: Return of the Rejected Mate: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

Dominic’s POVThe crime scene photograph lay on my desk, showing Penelope’s silver earring wedged between stones exactly where my mother’s blood had pooled. I stared at it until my eyes burned, letting the reality sink into my bones.This was it. Final proof that the woman I’d once loved had murdered my mother in cold blood.No accident could explain the placement. No structural failure could account for Penelope’s jewelry ending up at the exact spot where she died. The earring eliminated every possible alternative I’d desperately clung to in some hidden corners of my mind.Penelope was guilty. Completely, undeniably guilty.The certainty should have brought peace, but instead it left me feeling empty and hollowed out. My mother was still dead. My daughter’s mother was still a killer. Nothing about this revelation made the world feel safer or more just.A soft knock interrupted my brooding. “Dominic?” Kelsey’s voice came through the door. “I brought tea. You’ve been in here since the a

Dominic’s POVThe meadow looked exactly as it had when I was ten years old, sitting on this same boulder while Mom unpacked sandwiches from a wicker basket. Wildflowers dotted the grass in patches of purple and yellow—the same ones she’d taught me to identify during our picnics.“Larkspur,” I said aloud, pointing toward a cluster of deep blue blooms. “And those are black-eyed Susans.”The silence swallowed my words. No one answered back with praise for remembering the lessons she’d tried so hard to teach me before pack duties consumed our relationship. Before I became too important and too busy for meadow picnics with my mother.This place held so many memories. Mom teaching me plant names, showing me how to identify animal tracks in the soft earth, and explained why certain flowers grew only in shaded areas while others needed full sun.She’d been endlessly patient with my questions, treating every curiosity like it mattered.“Why do the larkspur grow so tall, Mama?”“Because they’re

Dominic’s POVAs dessert plates were cleared and brandy was poured, the conversation shifted to more serious matters. Mark leaned back in his chair, his expression growing somber as he addressed the table.“At least we learned something from that incident when they took the children,” he said, referring to the kidnapping that had terrified every parent in the territory. “Gave us insights into their operational methods.”Martin nodded agreement, swirling brandy in his glass. “Intelligence gathering at its finest. Though I still get nightmares thinking about what could have happened if we hadn’t found them in time.”The memory of those terrible hours still made my chest tight. Debbie’s disappearance had triggered every protective instinct I possessed, turning me into someone I barely recognized.The relief of finding her safe had been overwhelming, but the knowledge of what could have happened haunted me still.“The important thing is that we did find them,” I said, though the words felt

Edward’s POVReports poured across my desk from every corner of the territory. The screens around me showed surveillance feeds, intercepted communications, and status updates from operatives I’d spent months placing in key positions.Ten days since Penelope’s arrest, and everything was unfolding exactly as I’d planned.The packs were falling apart.Nicholas sat across from me at the metal briefing table, a tablet full of data in his hands. Julian occupied the chair to my right, reviewing psychological profiles of key targets. Both men looked energized by the chaos unfolding outside our hidden facility.“Status report,” I said, activating the main display screen.“Better than we projected,” Nicholas replied, swiping through surveillance photos. “Penelope’s imprisonment has created exactly the leadership vacuum we needed. Pack coordination is completely broken.”The images showed abandoned patrol routes, understaffed defensive positions, and heated arguments between territorial leaders w

Kelsey’s POVThe Council chamber looked like a cathedral built for wolves. Stone arches stretched toward the ceiling, carved with pack symbols from territories across the region. Hundreds of seats filled the space, every one occupied by Alpha leaders, reporters, and pack members who’d traveled here for the trial of the century.I walked down the center aisle, my legs shaking with each step.. Elder Francis sat behind the carved bench, his ancient eyes scanning the crowd. Pack banners hung from the walls—Iron Mountain’s silver wolf, Darkwood’s black oak, Northern Crescent’s golden moon.Everyone turned to watch me approach. Cameras flashed from the media section. Protesters outside had been chanting since dawn, their voices bleeding through the thick stone walls.“Raise your right hand,” Elder Francis commanded.I lifted my arm. The silver ceremonial dagger gleamed on the table beside him, waiting to cut anyone who lied under oath. Ancient werewolf tradition demanded blood oaths for test