Semua Bab Alpha Regrets After Banishing Me And Taking My Son: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Hazel’s POVPanic attacked me hard and fast and without any warning whatsoever. My heart jumped into my throat, beating so violently I thought it might explode.Ulysses stood frozen, his face twisted with confusion and something that looked disturbingly like hope. This could not be happening. Not when I was so close.My palms turned slick with sweat. Panic clawed at my throat like a living thing.“Do you smell anything special?” Ulysses asked Zack, his voice strained.Please say no. Please don’t smell anything.Zack sniffed carefully, looking puzzled. “No, Alpha. Nothing unusual.”Thank the goddess. Thank the goddess.But Ulysses only looked more agitated. His breathing became shallow, urgent. He knew something was wrong. He could sense it.“Nothing else? Nothing…sweet?”Sweet. The way he said it dragged up memories I wanted to forget completely.“No, sir. Are you feeling all right?”Ulysses wasn’t listening. His gaze locked on me with laser focus. Those green eyes that had once looked

Hazel’s POVWhen I heard Ulysses use that cold, utterly disgusted tone to forbid anyone from speaking my name, I went completely numb.That woman. Not even my name. Just ‘that woman.’The words made me want to vomit immediately. Pure revulsion dripped from his voice when he spoke about me—not just anger or disappointment, but complete, nauseating hatred.Even hearing my name made him sick.Some stupid part of me had hoped. I had still harbored some weak, pathetic fantasy deep in my heart.When he’d said that familiar scent reminded him of someone, when his voice had grown soft and pained, I’d naively thought he might still carry a trace of guilt or longing for me.Idiot. Such a fucking idiot.That hope died. Right here, right now, it died screaming.He despised me that much? Had even my name become such an untouchable taboo that hearing it spoken with kindness sent him into a rage?Three years of selfless dedication meant nothing. Three years of trying to be the Luna he needed, of warm

Hazel’s POVSweat broke out across Ulysses’s forehead in thick beads. His heart rate accelerated so fast I could see his pulse hammering in his throat. His whole body became agitated, thrashing slightly in the chair.Perfect. Exactly what I wanted to see.“These are all typical and necessary responses when deeply processing psychological trauma,” I told him, keeping my voice professional. Let him think his suffering was normal. Let him think this agony was healing.His breathing became ragged and desperate. The powerful Alpha reduced to a sweating, trembling mess.“Although the process is painful and difficult to endure,” I continued, savoring every word, “this precisely means the treatment is making substantial progress.”Excellent. My carefully planned revenge was proceeding exactly as intended. Six years of fantasizing about this moment, and it was even better than I’d imagined.Ulysses remained deep in the hypnotic state, his pain amplified beyond normal limits. His psychological d

Hazel’s POVUlysses and I sprang apart like we’d been struck by lightning.My sister looked exactly the same as six years ago—beautiful, spoiled, and ready to destroy anyone who threatened her precious position. Seeing her face brought back every moment of childhood cruelty, every time she’d stolen something I cared about and smiled while doing it.Still the violent brat she always was, but I wasn’t the same broken woman she’d helped destroy. I’d learned to fight back.“How dare you throw yourself at him!” she shrieked, grabbing an ashtray from the side table. The same tantrum tactics that had worked when we were children. How pathetic.She hurled it at my head. I caught it easily, my reflexes sharp from six years of surviving on my own.She still had terrible aim.“I’ll let that slide,” I said calmly, setting the ashtray down. “But you need to speak more respectfully.”Her eyes went wide with shock. She wasn’t used to people fighting back.Not the same pushover I used to be, sister de

Hazel’s POVI finished shoving my few belongings into the guest room drawers. The space was nice enough—cream walls, soft bed, window overlooking the training grounds, but I didn’t give a damn about comfort.I needed to find my son.Liam was somewhere in this territory. Breathing the same air. Walking these same paths. Six years without him had carved a hole in my chest that never stopped bleeding.I slipped out and started wandering the halls, pretending to get familiar with the layout. Really I was hunting. Searching for any sign of my child.A sound made me freeze. Crying. Real crying, not the fake tears Kimberley used when she wanted something.The noise came from behind a door that was cracked open. I crept closer, pressing my back against the wall.Through the gap, I saw Kimberley having a complete meltdown. Tears streaked her face as she grabbed an expensive crystal vase and hurled it at the wall. The crash was enormous. Glass exploded everywhere.“That bitch!” she screamed, gra