Semua Bab Alpha’s Regret: Reclaiming His Forsaken Mate: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Thalia’s POV: “What happened with your father?” The moment the words left my lips, the air between us turned to ice. Xander went utterly still. His playful smirk vanished, replaced by something fractured—something *wounded*. Like I’d just ripped open a scar he’d spent years trying to forget. For a heartbeat, I thought I’d imagined it—the flicker of raw, unfiltered pain in his eyes. But then his voice came out low, stripped of all warmth. “My father?” He turned fully toward me, and the shift was terrifying. The man who had kissed my knuckles like a storybook prince was gone. In his place stood something hollow. Something broken. Something cold and dangerous. I swallowed. *Shit.* I hadn’t meant to ask. I shouldn’t have. But my stupid, reckless mouth had a mind of its own. I just wanted to know why magic was suddenly feared here. Wanted to know what awaited me if I confessed. His gaze pinned me in place. My pulse hammered as I stammered, “I-I didn’t mean to—ju

Valerie’s POV: Days had passed without a word from Alaric. Had my plan failed? I had been so sure he would summon me—that he’d finally be ready to crown me as his Luna. But silence. Only silence. Another disappointment. Another failure to deliver to my father. A frustrated groan tore from my throat as I dragged my hands down my face, sinking onto the edge of my bed. The sting of tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I needed to think. To strategize. There had to be another way— *Knock. Knock.* I stiffened. Whoever it was could come back later. I stayed silent, willing them to leave. *Knock. Knock.* Louder this time. Insistent. I gritted my teeth. *Who in the Moon Goddess’ name—?* Then, a deep voice cut through the door. “Miss Valerie, a message from the Alpha." My breath hitched. *Alaric.* A rush of anticipation surged through me. “Please," I whispered to myself, clutching the fabric of my dress. “Let this be

Valerie’s POV: The time had come. I *needed* to see my father. Torches flickered along the stone hallway, their uneven light clawing at the walls like restless spirits. My shadow stretched and twisted behind me as I moved, a silent specter in the wake of my own coronation. The celebration still raged somewhere in the distance—drunken laughter, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of music—but here, the air was thick with silence. I reached my chambers and paused, casting a glance over my shoulder. *No one was following me. Good.* The door groaned as I shoved it open, the sound swallowed by the heavy tapestries lining the walls. I stepped inside, letting it creak shut behind me. My coronation gown, still warm from the ceremony, slid to the floor in a heap of silk and gold with silver embroideries. I changed quickly—into a plain red dress, simple sandals, and a brown cloak with a deep hood. I had told Alaric I needed to rest, so I couldn’t afford anyone recognizing

Thalia’s POV: The dream clung to me—the searing of the sun, the jeering crowd, the way my knees had hit the floor when I confessed that it was I who healed the girl. The worst part? The kiss of the axe still burned against my neck while I was still trying to recover from the nightmare I had just witnessed. My hands moved slowly to my neck, wrapping around it and searching if there was a wound or a mark from the axe to prove it was truly just a dream and I hadn’t just woken up in the afterlife. Because it felt real. Too too real. But there was nothing. Only the cold sweat clinging to my body and the echo of my own ragged breaths. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the remnants of the nightmare away. The sun had been so bright in the dream—blinding, merciless—but now, only the pale glow of the full moon spilled through the window, casting long shadows across my room. The air was cool. Quiet. And most importantly.. I wasn’t dead. And neither was Lillian. At leas

Xander’s POV: “There she is.“ I nudged my chair closer, the legs scraping against the floor. “Now, Tell me—what’d I do?” “Alpha.” Her voice was soft, but the way she crossed her arms—pulling her V-neck dress just so—made my gaze flicker down before I forced it back up. *Focus, Xander. Focus.* “Yes?” I leaned in, this time locking onto her blue eyes, bright even in the dim light. Her eyebrow arched. “You’re seriously telling me you can’t figure it out?” “I swear on the Moon Goddess, Thalia, I don’t.” My voice dropped, rough with sincerity as I closed the distance between us. “All I know is I said the servants existed to serve you, and then you—” *Oh.* *Oh, shit.* I froze, realization dawning. “Wait.” I pulled back, studying her face. “Is that why—” She didn’t need to answer. The sharp nod said enough, her arms still tightly folded. Then— “Servants don’t just ‘exist’ to serve you, Alpha.” Her fingers curled into air quotes around the word,