All Chapters of His Regret,Her Revenge: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I waited until Ziki was distracted.Marilyn had him in the garden, showing him how to plant flowers. Her hands were in the dirt. Her laugh was bright and fake. She was playing the role of the perfect aunt, the loving friend, the woman who could do no wrong.I watched them from the kitchen window. Watched my son laugh with her. Watched her touch his hair. Watched her smile like she'd won something.She had.But I wasn't going to make it easy for her.I found Ezekiel in his study. The door was open this time. He was sitting behind his desk, reading something. Probably pack business. Probably something that mattered more than me.I didn't knock. I walked in and closed the door behind me. The click of the latch echoed in the silence.He looked up. His cold gray eyes flickered with something—surprise? Annoyance? I could never tell with him. He'd spent years perfecting that mask of indifference."I need to talk to you," I said.He set down his papers. Leaned back in his chair. Crossed his a

I didn't sleep that night.I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the letter burning a hole in my pocket. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother's handwriting. Every time I breathed, I felt the warmth of the mark on my shoulder.You are the last of your bloodline.The words echoed in my head. Over and over. Like a drumbeat. Like a warning.I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know who my family was. I didn't know what power I was supposed to have. But I knew one thing.I couldn't stay here.Not like this. Not as the ghost of a wife, the shadow of a Luna. Not while Marilyn pranced around my home like she'd already won.I had to leave. I had to find out who I really was.But there was one problem.Ziki.My son was asleep in his room. His little chest rose and fell with each breath. His small hand was curled around his stuffed wolf—the one I'd given him when he was a baby.He looked so peaceful. So innocent. He had no idea his world was about to shatter.How could I leave him? How

Iris didn't let me sleep.She said I'd have time to rest later. That the first night was the most important. That if I waited until morning, I'd talk myself out of it.So she sat me down in the warm kitchen of Ashford Sanctuary, poured me a cup of tea I didn't touch, and started talking."The mark on your shoulder isn't just a mark," she said. "It's a lock. And you're the key."I stared at her, my hand drifting to my shoulder automatically. The warmth was there—faint but persistent, like a heartbeat I could feel under my skin. I'd spent years thinking it was just a birthmark, something ugly I'd tried to hide. Now it felt like it was trying to tell me something I wasn't ready to hear."What does that mean?" My voice came out rougher than I expected. "A lock to what?"Iris exchanged a glance with Xavier. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching me with those steady brown eyes. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly. Whatever she was about to say, he'd already known. He'd

The darkness was absolute. Not the kind of dark your eyes adjust to after a few seconds. This was thick and heavy, like it had been waiting for centuries. The air was cold and still, carrying the scent of stone and dust and something older than either. I stood there frozen, my heart pounding in my ears. The key was still in my hand. I could feel its weight, cold against my palm. The mark on my shoulder was warm—faint but steady, like a heartbeat I could feel under my skin. I took a breath. Then another. "Hello?" My voice echoed, swallowed by the silence. No answer. I reached out with my free hand, my fingers searching for something solid. They met stone—rough and uneven, like the walls of a cave. "I'm here," I said to no one. "I'm here, and I'm ready." The words felt foolish. Who was I talking to? The dark? The vault? My dead mother? And then the light came. It started as a faint glow, soft and golden, from somewhere ahead of me. I squinted, trying to make out shapes. The glo

The words hung between us like a blade suspended in midair, sharp and ready to fall. Then you'll have to take him from me. I stared at Ezekiel, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat, a frantic rhythm that echoed in my ears. His cold gray eyes held mine, unblinking and challenging, waiting to see if I'd back down like I always used to. He was testing me, probing for the weakness he'd always known. But I wasn't the same woman who had stood in this hallway a lifetime ago, trembling and broken and desperate for scraps of affection. "Is that really how you want to play this?" I asked, my voice quiet but steady. "In front of our son? While he's sleeping upstairs, dreaming of a family that's already shattered?" Ezekiel's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath the skin. "Ziki is asleep. He won't hear anything." "You're willing to wake him up just to prove a point?" I stepped closer, my voice hardening. "You're willing to drag him into this mess you created?" "I'm wil