Novel & Cerita Lucian’s Regret

Richard kept talking. "Every day, he goes to her tombstone and falls to his knees to repent. When he was younger, he refused to listen and let others influence him, and he did a lot of things to hurt his mother. He regrets it now, but it is already too late." Jonathan's eyes went red. He ducked his head, fighting back the tears.

I touched my neck—the scent-masker was hot, vibrating against my skin. I was winning. I was breaking him. But as I looked at my children sleeping peacefully, I realized the terrifying truth: Silas wasn't just losing his company. He was losing his life. And the only thing that could save the Lycan King was the very woman he had cast out to die. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands shaking. I had come for revenge, but I hadn't realized that watching him die would feel like dying all over again.

He had no idea that the woman warming his bed was worth more than his entire pack. He had no idea that the "pathetic" wife he'd discarded could buy and sell him a hundred times over. He had no idea that "Phantom"—the genius everyone wanted to recruit, the legend no one could find—was currently sitting in a $49 motel room with tear tracks on her face and vengeance in her heart. Liora stirred, her grief transmuting into something sharper. Something hungrier. Show them, she whispered. Show them all. I closed the laptop and lay back on the lumpy motel bed, staring at the water-stained ceiling. Tomorrow, I would become someone new. Tomorrow, I would start the process of burning my old life to ash

Ayra burned the toast, they argued over the seasoning, and somehow, it was perfect. Later, as they sat on the floor beside the dusty fireplace—blankets wrapped around their shoulders, music playing low from Lucian’s phone—Ayra leaned into his chest and closed her eyes. “Do you ever regret it?” she asked. Lucian ran a hand through her hair. “What?” “All of it. The explosions. The lies. The power. Losing it all.” He was quiet for a long time. “No,” he said finally. “Because for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m living instead of performing.”

He wasn't used to being unable to fight, and losing to Alpha Cain had just bruised his ego. But there was something much worse than that. "Is this really what you want, little wolf?" he whispered, eyes closed as he recalled the coldness and hatred in Emily's eyes when they met again. In his chest, he felt incredible pain and regret. It was something he lived by for the past six years. It never went away; he just learned how to conceal them and accept that pain and regret wouldn't be in his heart if not for his cowardness. "Lucian?" Laura's voice made him open his eyes.

His gaze stayed locked on the road, as if he needed a few seconds to organize what he was about to say. “It’s just that.” Lucian began, his voice lower, almost reluctant. “I just wanted to understand your friend, you know? I wanted to understand how she feels about me. Because, frankly…” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I'm paying for all my past sins with women at Kate’s hands.” I watched his profile closely, noticing how his hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel and how sweat began to appear on his forehead despite the air conditioning.

His icy composure wavered, his shoulders heavy as though carrying sins he’d ignored for too long. “You’re right,” Lucian admitted, his voice low. “Claire destroyed your family. And I-” he paused, the words tasting foreign on his tongue, “I let myself believe it was just business. That what my mother did had nothing to do with me. But I inherited her sins without ever questioning them. I built walls like hers. I became cold like her. And I let myself lose the only person who ever mattered..” his gaze slid to Isla, reverent, regretful “...because I was too blind to see the truth.”

"These hands tell a story of a man who's learning humility." "They tell the story of a man who lost everything that mattered and is trying to earn it back." The words hung between them, honest and raw. Slowly, Mira's hand moved to cover his completely, their fingers intertwining. "I've been so angry," she admitted. "So hurt. When you chose Selene, it felt like you were saying I wasn't worth fighting for." "I was a coward," Lucian said, his voice thick with regret. "I chose the safe path instead of fighting for what my heart knew was right."

"I just... what if they regret it now? What if they're looking for you, wanting to make amends?" Lucian's eyes flashed with something dark. "Then I hope they never find me. Because if they do..." He trailed off, but his meaning was clear. "You can't mean that," I whispered, though part of me understood his anger. "Can't I?" He reached over and turned the page of the diary. "Look at this." I gasped at the image before me. It was far more detailed than the previous drawings, showing real artistic skill, but what it depicted...

Like her words had finished what the world had already started. She felt it. The regret that crashed onto her was immediate and crushing. She hadn’t meant to say it. She didn’t want to. Because now… now she didn’t love Lucas. She hadn’t for a long time. But it was too late. “He was worthy of love… and I…” Luciano echoed, every word dropping like a stone into a void. His voice was quiet, numb. He repeated them slowly, as if trying to understand them. Then, he laughed.