Alpha's Regret After Her Rebirth (Hannah and Noah) novel Chapter 302

e Luna Council meeting had gone better–so much better–than I could have hoped. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I had a new purpose, a new step in the right direction. The shackles binding me to this marriage and this house suddenly felt lighter, like I could slip out of them at any moment. 

But my smile faded as soon as I walked into the dining room. 

Noah was sitting at the head of the table with a fork in hand and an expectant look on his face. The sight of him brought me crashing back to reality, reminding me of the cage I was still trapped in–for now, at 

least 

“Welcome home,” he said, gesturing to the seat across from him. “I made dinner. Join me?” 

I hesitated, torn between my desire to retreat to my room and the tantalizing smell wafting from the plates on the table. The aroma of herbs and roasted vegetables filled the air, making my stomach growl despite my reservations. 

Begrudgingly, I sat down, the chair scraping softly against the hardwood floor. “What’s all this about?” | asked, poking suspiciously at the potatoes. 

Noah had prepared a meal that looked not only delicious but also perfectly balanced. I recognized the exact proportions of vitamins and protein that the doctor had recommended for my pregnancy. 

It was surprising–Noah had never cooked for me before, at least not on his own without me asking or cooking alongside him. 

“I thought we could have a nice dinner together to celebrate your first meeting.” Noah said as he popped. a piece of meat into his mouth. “How was the Luna Council meeting?” 

I shrugged, not wanting to tell him too much. So I coolly replied, “It was fine.” 

“Just fine? Have you been invited to the council?” 

“Something like that,” I said, stabbing various things onto my fork. I took a tentative bite and couldn’t help but let out a small sound of appreciation. It was genuinely good–the chicken was tender and perfectly seasoned, the vegetables crisp and flavorful. 

“This is… surprisingly delicious,” I admitted, then caught myself. I shouldn’t be complimenting him, because I knew that there was more to this than he was letting on. “Why did you cook for me? You never cook for me.” 

Noah shrugged. “What, I’m not allowed to simply want to make a good meal for my wife?” 

My face paled at that word–wife–and I found myself picking at my food, my appetite suddenly diminished. 

Wife. The word used to bring me such joy, but it only felt hollow now, a reminder of the chains that bound me here. 

And to think that once, years ago, when our parents had announced the arranged marriage that they had