Alpha’s Regret After Putting Me In Jail novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Compromises

Chapter 22: Compromises

(Alexander’s POV)

The moment Marcus’s fingers closed around Celeste’s wrist, my control began to unravel. His

hand pressed into her scars–not gently, not accidentally. It was deliberate.

The way her body stiffened, the way she recoiled in quiet pain, made my white wolf snarl so

loudly within me I thought I would lose control.

“Careful now,” Marcus murmured, his voice dripping with false concern, though his smile

revealed his satisfaction.

His thumb brushed lightly over the deepest of her silver scars, pressing just enough to ensure her discomfort. “Celeste is delicate, isn’t she? Fragile.”

Fragile.

The word churned in my chest like venom. My wolf clawed harder against my restraint, wanting to rip through him.

But I stood still, watching the way Celeste froze under his grip, her head dipping slightly as though to accept it.

That image burned into me. The quiet surrender. The acceptance of cruelty. She didn’t even flinch anymore, not outwardly…

Marcus didn’t bother glancing in my direction. His eyes were entirely on her as he tilted his head, observing her like some prized possession. Every nerve in my body was alive, my muscles coiled, my wolf howling to attack.

“You wouldn’t want the Alpha King’s nephew thinking you’re weak, would you?” Marcus’s words were like a dagger, cutting through the weight of the silence.

Celeste’s lips parted, but no sound escaped. She just stood there, trapped, with her wrist caught under his thumb.

I stepped forward a fraction, the need to intervene nearly unbearable. But Celeste’s voice broke

the tension first.

“The Northern Range will help,” she said faintly, her tone emotionless, her gaze locked on the ground. “The cold might soothe my scars.”

+8 Points

Chapter 22: Compromises

Her words were quiet, calm even. But that calmness carried a hollow weight. That was the

part that destroyed me. She wasn’t hopeful. She wasn’t optimistic. She was resigned.

Marcus finally turned toward me, his violet eyes gleaming triumphantly. He loosened his grip, sliding his fingers slowly off her wrist as if he deserved credit for being merciful.

“What do you think, Alexander?” His voice was mocking, casual. “Do you agree? Surely, you’ve seen the scars as well. Do you think the cold will help?”

His tone didn’t hide his amusement. He was baiting me, trying to tighten the leash I was

already fighting to control.

I clenched my fists at my side, my nails digging into my palms to ground myself. My voice

came out colder than I planned as I replied, “Silver scars don’t heal by cold. And they certainly

don’t heal by careless hands.”

The implication was clear. It wasn’t just careless–it was cruelty.

Marcus tilted his head and smirked, unbothered. “You speak from experience. How touching.”

Celeste stirred slightly, shifting a step away from him. But when she spoke, it wasn’t to me.

“The cold is enough,” she repeated, her voice hushed but firm. “And you should be glad,

Alexander.”

Her next words struck deeper than I was prepared for.

“It clears the way for your responsibilities,” she added, her faint smile twisting into a thin,

sharp blade. “I imagine Scarlett must be waiting.” ”

My chest tightened painfully. There was nothing warm in her voice–there hadn’t been for

years. But now, there was something colder. Something empty.

“That’s not-” I started, not even sure what I intended to say.

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. This time, her voice carried the faintest edge of sarcasm. “We’ve all

made compromises for peace.”

Compromises. Peace.

Every word carried a weight far heavier than the grove’s crushing air. I wanted to tell her to

stop, to explain, but the way her expression settled into icy calmness stopped me.

“You’re quite right,” Marcus cut in smoothly, stepping closer to her. His proximity forced

another flinch, one he seemed to savor. “Alexander’s responsibilities must keep him quite

occupied. But it means we can focus on ours now, Celeste.”

214

+8 Points

Chapter 22: Compromises

He brushed a hand along the sleeve of his tailored jacket, smiling as if he were wrapping

things up neatly.

“Three moons,” Marcus declared. His voice filled the grove with crisp authority,, his confident

tone sharpening like a blade. “The ceremony will be magnificent. Our bond will finally be

recognized. Isn’t that what we’ve all wanted?”

His gaze lingered on me as he finished, daring me to protest. My wolf twisted, howling again

beneath my skin. The sound was deafening in my mind, drowning out Marcus’s triumph.

I forced my words through clenched teeth. “Three moons,” I echoed, locking my icy gaze on

Marcus. “A short timeline for something as binding as a mate bond.”

Marcus shrugged casually, unbothered. “When a wolf knows what it wants, it doesn’t waste

time, does it?”

His smirk was insufferable, and I wanted nothing more than to strike it off his face.

“Celeste’s agreement is what matters,” I said evenly, ice packing every word. “And her choice.”

Celeste’s head lifted slightly at that, her violet eyes flickering toward me for the briefest

moment before turning away once more.

I couldn’t read her. Her submission wasn’t just physical–it was in every guarded word she

spoke, every calculated pause.

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head lightly. He turned back to Celeste then, the gleam in his

eyes softening to something far more dangerous..

“No objections, right?” He didn’t ask her. He wasn’t seeking a real answer. He was stating a