Alpha's Regret After She Kneels novel Chapter 112

(Siena’s POV)

The competition grounds buzz with excitement after the third round.

The news that Windhowl and Silverfang tied for first spread like wildfire, igniting whispers of an unprecedented outcome—a shared victory—a possibility that no one had considered—not even me.

But I know better than to let hope take root too deeply.

Raiden is still the Alpha King. His influence over the council is considerable, and I’ve learned the hard way that politics are rarely fair.

Even if Windhowl has proven itself, securing a rightful place at the top, the final decision will rest in the hands of council members who have long favored Silverfang.

Still, I allow myself a moment to breathe, to absorb the quiet pride emanating from my pack.

Windhowl’s warriors move through the grounds with heads held high, their backs straighter, their confidence palpable. They nod respectfully when they pass, their eyes reflecting admiration and trust—trust I’ve earned, not because of my bond with Raiden, but because of my own strength.

For the first time, I truly see it.

I didn’t just survive after Raiden cast me aside.

I thrived.

Windhowl was crumbling when I took over—fractured, demoralized, hanging by a thread after my father’s death. And yet, I rebuilt it. I turned weakness into resilience, despair into determination.

I transformed a struggling pack into contenders worthy of respect.

I did it alone.

The realization is bittersweet.

Because now that I finally stand on my own, my divorce from Raiden looms ever closer. The bond between us—faint and fraying—is almost gone. And soon, there will be nothing left.

Maybe that’s for the best.

I tell myself that, but the ache in my chest suggests otherwise.

The afternoon sun filters softly through the foliage as I sit in the central garden, reviewing final documentation for Windhowl’s next phase of development.

Rairity’s reports are thorough, highlighting promising opportunities for trade and resource expansion. Every decision I make now cements Windhowl’s future—our future—without Raiden.

“Siena.”

Zion’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I glance up to see him approaching, his usual cocky swagger tempered by something softer, more sincere. His hazel eyes hold an uncharacteristic seriousness, and for once, he isn’t wearing that insufferable grin.