The Alpha's Greatest Regret
He let himself be turned, slow, still looking at me, still not sorry.
Past the crowd, past Callum steering him off, I caught Lisa watching. Not shocked. Every other face in the courtyard was moving—turning, reacting, finding somewhere to put its eyes—and hers wasn't. She stood perfectly easy, a woman watching something arrive right on schedule. It lasted until she saw me looking. Then she found somewhere else to be.
The festival emptied out slow after that—the music thinning, the bonfire left to burn down on its own, people drifting home with the unease of having watched something they weren't meant to.
Bab Populer