Alpha's Regret After She Kneels novel Chapter 103

The question is a dagger, its point aimed directly at the weakest part of our partnership. I feel the tension ripple through the crowd, the silence that follows heavy with anticipation.

Siena stiffens beside me, her shoulders straightening as if bracing for impact.

Before I can think, before I can weigh the consequences, I step forward.

“The Luna’s strength complements where I lack,” I say, my voice steady but louder than I intended.

The statement hangs in the air for a moment, surprising even me.

The judge raises an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. I take a breath, steadying myself, and continue.

“Our journey hasn’t been conventional,” I admit, my voice softening slightly. “But her contributions to our pack are invaluable. She has carried burdens I didn’t see, fought battles I didn’t acknowledge. And despite my failures, she has never stopped fighting for our people. For all of us.”

The words feel raw, unpolished, but they’re the most honest I’ve spoken in years. I don’t look at her as I say them—I can’t.

When I finally glance her way, her amber eyes are wide with shock. For a moment, she looks as though she doesn’t know what to say.

The crowd murmurs, their whispers carrying a mix of surprise and approval. The judge nods once, satisfied with my answer, and moves on to the next question.

But I can’t shake the feeling that something fundamental has shifted.

***

The unity dance, a tradition meant to symbolize the harmony between Alpha and Luna.

It’s a test of synchronization, of trust, of connection.

As the music begins, I hold out my hand to Siena. She hesitates, just for a fraction of a second, before placing her hand in mine. Her touch is light, almost hesitant, and I can feel the tension in her fingers.

We step into position, her hand resting on my shoulder, mine settling on her waist. The contact sends a jolt through me, sharp and electric, and I can tell by the slight hitch in her breath that she feels it too.

We move together, our steps perfectly synchronized despite the years of distance between us. Muscle memory takes over, guiding us through the familiar patterns of the dance.

But then, something changes.

As my hand tightens slightly on her waist, the bond between us—the one that has been fraying for so long—suddenly flares to life. It’s faint, like the flicker of a dying flame, but it’s there.