All Chapters of The Alpha’s Regret: The Hidden Luna’s Return: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The iron-wrought doors of the Great Hall didn't just open; they groaned under the weight of a century of secrets. I stood at the threshold, my spine a line of tempered steel. The morning sun through the high, arched windows caught the silver of my hair, making it shimmer like a warning. Behind me, the heavy, rhythmic tread of Killian’s boots echoed mine—a dark, silent shadow following the light.The Hall was packed. Every member of the Blackwood Pack who could walk was there, their scents clashing in the air—fear, curiosity, and a lingering, sour resentment. They had watched their "Luna" Sarah fall to treason, and now they were here to watch the man who had facilitated her rise: Silas Woods. My father.In the center of the room, Silas sat in a chair made of cold iron. His wrists were bound with silver-threaded rope that bit into his skin, a precaution against his wolf. He looked up as I approached, and for a heartbeat, I saw the man who had tucked me into bed twenty years ago. Then, h

The roar that ripped through the cellar wasn't human, and it certainly wasn't wolf. It was a sound of grinding tectonic plates and hollow, ancient hunger. The white quartz stairs beneath my feet, which had been glowing with a pure lunar light only moments ago, were now being swallowed by an oily, suffocating darkness."Marcus!" Killian’s voice was a thunderclap beside me. He didn't wait for my lead this time. He lunged for the stairs, his body shifting mid-air. The sound of his bones snapping and reforming—the violent, wet thud of an Alpha’s transformation—filled the cramped space. In a heartbeat, the man I had been arguing with was gone, replaced by a massive charcoal-black wolf whose fur seemed to drink the meager light of the cellar.He snarled, a sound that vibrated in my chest, and gestured with his massive head for me to get behind him."I’m not staying down here, Killian!" I shouted over the rising wind that was now whistling through the hidden trapdoor. The air was turning fre

The dawn did not break over the Blackwood estate; it bled. A bruised purple light filtered through the heavy mist that had settled over the valley, clinging to the stone walls like a damp shroud. I stood on the front steps of the manor, my medical pack strapped tight to my back and my charcoal coat buttoned to my chin. Beside me, the triplets stood in a silent row, their small faces pale but determined. Leo’s hand was firmly gripped in mine, his pulse steady—a stark contrast to the frantic heartbeat I could feel thrumming through the air from the hundreds of wolves gathered in the courtyard.Killian stood at the base of the steps, his Alpha presence dialed to a simmer. He had traded his ceremonial robes for tactical gear, his eyes scanning the crowd with a restlessness that told me he hadn't slept a second since our encounter in the cellar."We aren't taking the main road," Killian’s voice boomed, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "The Storm-Claw pack and the Shadow Alpha’s sc

The gates of the First City didn't open with a mechanical click; they parted like a wound. The stone was a deep, obsidian black that seemed to absorb the silver moonlight rather than reflect it. As Killian and I stepped over the threshold, the air changed instantly. The scent of jasmine and pine vanished, replaced by a cold, sterile void that smelled like old paper and forgotten tears. "Elena?" Killian’s voice was right beside me, but it sounded miles away, distorted as if he were speaking underwater. "I'm here," I said, reaching out to grab his hand. But as my fingers closed, they met only empty air. The mist swirled, thick and cloying, turning from white to a bruised, oily purple. When it cleared, I wasn't in the Northern Range anymore. I was standing in the center of the Blackwood Grove, five years in the past. It was the night of the Full Moon Ceremony. The torches flickered with a mocking orange light. I could smell the roasting meat of the feast, hear the rhythmic beati

The silence that followed the ritual was more deafening than the roar of the vortex had been. It was a heavy, sacred quiet that seemed to settle over the cavern like a fallen shroud. I sat on the cold floor at the base of the white obsidian altar, my breathing shallow and ragged. My children were asleep in my lap, their small bodies finally heavy with the natural, dreamless slumber they had been denied for years.Killian crawled toward us, his movements slow and pained. He reached out, his hand trembling as he brushed a stray lock of hair from Leo’s forehead. His fingers were stained with the black ichor of the shadow entity, but his touch was as gentle as a summer breeze."They look so peaceful," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I haven't seen them look like this since... well, ever.""Their scent is gone, Killian," I said, leaning my head against the cold stone of the altar. "To the rest of the world, they’re just three normal Lycan pups. The Shadow Alpha can’t track them anymore.