Semua Bab Once His Mate, Now His Regret: Bab 111 - Bab 120

Cassiel AldricAurielle had fallen back asleep, her breathing slow and steady now, soft like the whisper of silk brushing against skin. Her face had relaxed, the tension in her brows fading as the medication took hold. I sat beside her bed and brushed my knuckles gently against her arm, needing the touch just to confirm she was still here. Still with me.She looked peaceful—but I knew better.She wasn’t okay.Not even close. I hadn’t gone into details because I didn’t want her stressed, but it was bad.The nurse had handed me a folder, her eyes hesitant, words measured. I had read the medical notes from the attending physician three times now, but each time I finished, I had to grip the chair tighter to keep from putting my fist through a wall.The abortifacient she’d been forced to ingest a month ago—the one that tore her unborn child from her womb—had left its mark in a different way this time. The doctors had already told us that there would be a permanent strain in her body. That

Aurielle DuVallI slept the entire car ride.Not the shallow kind of sleep you slip into when you’re half-aware of your surroundings—no. This was deep, warm, and undisturbed. The kind of rest that comes only when your body finally trusts that it’s safe. That someone else is watching over you.Cassiel drove us from Moonveil to his own pack lands, hours away, and I didn’t stir once. Not when the roads curved. Not when the sun dipped lower. Not even when the engine finally went quiet and the car came to a stop.That’s just what it’s like around this man.Cassiel is the eye of the storm. Everything else might be chaos, but with him—I can breathe.I thought he’d wake me when we arrived. Maybe brush a knuckle along my jaw or whisper gently for me to open my eyes. But I never felt it. I never felt the transition from car to house to bed.I simply… woke up.The bed was warm. The sheets smelled like cedarwood and clean linen, and the pillow under my head held the faintest trace of his cologne.

Cassiel AldricSometimes when life gives you lemons, you make wine.Ridiculous, yes, and it’s not a true saying. But it explains what I’m doing. I was offered a small opportunity to get closer to Aurielle, and I’m jumping steps. I could almost laugh, am I not the patient alpha?I could’ve just packed a few things, her meds, a change of clothes, the basics. That would’ve been the reasonable thing to do. But I didn’t.I brought almost everything.Half her wardrobe, her favorite items, the candle she likes to burn when she’s anxious, her hair bands, which she lost a lot of, her vitamin supplements, even her beat-up favorite novel with the bent spine and dog-eared corners. Three damn bags of her stuff. For someone supposedly just staying the night or two, it looked like she was moving in.And yeah, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. But when there’s a will, there’s a way, or whatever that cheesy saying is.Truthfully, I hated the reason behind all this. I wasn’t happy about the situation,

Aurielle DuVallI slid my phone into my back pocket and stepped back into the house, quietly opening and closing the door behind me. The weight in my chest hadn’t eased. Cassiel still hadn’t moved from where he stood, his hand dripping red, his expression unreadable.I held up a hand, silently telling him to stay put. His instincts were always to move toward me, to take charge, to handle things, but this time, I needed him still. I turned and rushed into the kitchen, grabbing the nearest towel before hurrying back to him.But by the time I got there, it was unnecessary.His wound had already healed, his supernatural physiology doing what it was made to do, though the blood still clung to his skin in streaks. His hand was clenched tightly around his phone, knuckles pale.Still, I moved toward him with the towel, reaching for his hand to clean away the blood.Cassiel blinked rapidly, as if coming back into himself. He pulled the phone away abruptly, eyes clearing. “Sorry about that,” he

Aurielle DuVallAfter the whole mess with his brother, who, by the way, was still MIA, Cassiel bounced back by the very next day like nothing had happened. But I could tell it wasn't effortless. He buried himself in responsibility, slipping back into that composed, hyper-functional mode of his. With his brother gone, someone had to pick up the slack. And that someone, of course, was Cassiel.It meant he was leaving the house more often, making trips to the pack’s business sectors, and attending council meetings later than he used to. I hadn’t even known he had several schedules prepared in case this happened. I’d catch glimpses of him coming and going, pressed suit jackets, steady footsteps, barely a word except a kiss on my forehead and a reminder to eat. He didn’t complain. He didn’t sigh. He just… moved.It was like he was comfortable being a workaholic, but it also reminded me of why his house seemed so soulless. He was rarely in it. That’s the thing about Cassiel, he’s a quiet st