Semua Bab Alpha’s Regret: His Luna, His Heirs, His Redemption: Bab 31 - Bab 40

POV: Alpha Marcus (Luther’s Father) The fire in my study was low, flames licking the logs with quiet hunger. I preferred it that way—dim corners, long shadows. Darkness strips men of their masks. My son stood where I told him to: in front of my desk, back rigid, jaw locked, fists clenched at his sides. All sharp edges, iron posture—the image of an Alpha who conquered boardrooms and crushed rivals. But I had seen him falter. We all had. That howl. It still reverberated through the stones of Red Moon. Two young voices, raw but potent, howling in unison with enough force to make half the pack collapse. Warriors, servants, even elders dropped to their knees, gasping under the weight of power too primal to resist. I’d nearly bent myself. Nearly. And Luther—Alpha, my heir, my blood—had swayed like the sound punched through his ribs. I steepled my fingers on the desk. “Do you want to explain what happened?” His jaw ticked. “Wolves howl, Father. You’ve heard them before.” “Don’t insu

POV: Olivia The office didn’t smell like home anymore. It smelled of paint and polish, glass and ambition. The old apartment where I’d built my app between diaper changes and midnight feedings felt like another lifetime. Now sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows onto rows of desks and glowing monitors. My company—their company—had grown into something real, something larger than me. Reporters were circling already. Headlines hinted: The Startup That’s Changing Mothers’ Lives. Blogs speculated about “the hidden genius behind the app.” Investors wanted interviews, features, and photographs. But every time someone asked for my face on a magazine cover, I shook my head. Mystery was safer. “Boss?” My assistant poked her head in, tablet in hand. Barely out of college, all nervous energy and bright eyes. “The Journal called again. They really want you to go on record this time.” My throat tightened. “Tell them no.” She hesitated. “It’s just… they’re saying you’re the

POV: Olivia The park should have been safe. It was Saturday morning, the sun high, the grass still slick with dew. Mothers spread blankets under the trees, children shrieked from the swings, the air full of the kind of human noise that had become my shield. In a crowd like this, I told myself, no one could see us. No one could know. The kids ran ahead, their laughter bright. Harvey and Hyden darted toward the climbing frame, racing each other like always. “Bet I beat you, Hyden!” “You never do!” Daisy plopped under the slide, arranging her dolls like queens in a tiny court. Lily chased butterflies across the grass, squealing every time she nearly caught one. For one fragile moment, I breathed. Just a mother. Just four children. Just another Saturday. Then I saw it. The SUV. Same black body, same tinted windows, parked half-hidden under the oaks across the street. My stomach knotted. I’d seen it before—outside the school last week. Too still. Too patient. This time

POV: Olivia The emails wouldn’t stop. They stacked in my inbox faster than I could delete them: investors demanding projections, journalists begging for interviews, magazines offering glossy spreads. My “little app,” once cobbled together on stolen nights with a baby on each hip, had grown into something I could no longer contain. Now it had a headquarters. A full floor in a downtown skyscraper glowed with my logo across its glass skin, visible for blocks. I had a staff of eighty—developers, designers, lawyers—all working for me, but almost none of them knew who I was. They called me “the ghost founder.” The papers called me “the mystery CEO.” It was supposed to be safe. I’d built walls of anonymity, shell companies stacked like bricks around safety. But the higher the walls, the more people tried to climb them. One headline read: Who Is She? The Woman Behind the Empire. Another: The App Saving Lives—But Who’s Running It? And every time my company’s name trended, my s

POV: OliviaThe storm had been building all evening, pressing against the house until it felt like a held breath. By midnight the sky let go—rain in sheets, thunder rolling low like a warning drum.I killed every light after tucking the kids onto the mattress in the den. Dark was safer. Safer from eyes outside.“Tell the story,” Daisy whispered, fists knotted in my shirt.“Short one,” I said, palming the knife hidden in the cushion. “A brave girl named Daisy who—”“—saved her mama,” Lily finished, chin up, eyes too old.Harvey lay facing the door, shoulders bunched like a guard dog. Hyden mirrored him, breath hard through his nose.“Quiet ears. Quiet hearts,” I reminded.Hyden nodded. Harvey whispered, “I’m not scared.”“You can be scared and brave at the same time,” I murmured.The back door rattled. Once. Twice. I counted to ten. On eight, Daisy flinched.“Someone’s outside,” she breathed.“Is it Auntie Aria?” Lily asked hopefully.“No.” Daisy’s eyes glimmered faint gold. “Wrong sou