Alpha's Regret After She Kneels novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Siena’s POV

The music fades into the background, replaced by the low hum of conversation and the quiet clink of champagne glasses. The room feels distant, the crowd a blur of meaningless faces.

All I can focus on is him.

I draw a deep breath, steeling myself. The question about Lila’s mark claws at my throat, desperate to be spoken. It’s haunted me since the moment I glimpsed it, an impossibility that refuses to leave me in peace.

Raiden leans closer, his breath warm against my car as he lowers his voice. “In a few days, before the competition ends, I’ll visit your father and explain our fake marriage.”

The words hit me like physical blows, sharp and unforgiving, knocking the air from my lungs.

My father.

Gone barely a month.

The man whose voice I can still hear in my head, whose advice I still grasp for when the world feels too heavy.

He’s ashes now, scattered in the wind. And yet, in my mind, he’s still real. Still reachable. I caught myself reaching for my phone just yesterday, stupidly hopeful for a moment before the crushing reality set in.

Raiden doesn’t know. He doesn’t even notice the way my body stiffens, the way my breath catches in my throat.

“I—” I start, but the word barely escapes before my voice cracks, betraying me.

His expression hardens slightly, his brow furrowing as he misinterprets my hesitation. “Don’t worry,” he says, his tone calm, detached, as though we’re discussing a simple business meeting. “I’ll be discreet. Your father always liked me. I’m sure he’ll understand this is better for both of us.”

Better for us.

The casual cruelty of those words slices through me, leaving me raw and exposed.

I stare at him, at the man who once promised to cherish me through all of life’s sorrows. The man who had once looked at me with something resembling love.

Where is that man now?

How can he stand here and talk about my father–my father, who never stopped believing in me, even when no one else did -as though he’s still alive? As though he’s just another obstacle to overcome in this farce of a marriage?

The weight of everything I’ve swallowed for weeks comes crashing down all at once.

Raiden doesn’t know.

He doesn’t even care to know.

That I buried my father alone. That I stood at the grave, the earth freshly turned, while he lounged with Lila, unaware and uncaring.

My wolf whines softly, clawing at my insides, a distress I can’t soothe.

For a moment, my mouth opens, then closes again. The words refuse to come. How can I tell him? How can I say it out loud

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Chapter 29

without shattering completely?

I–I try again, but my voice gives out.

Raiden’s gaze sharpens, his jaw tightening as though he’s bracing for an argument. He’s already decided what this is– hesitation, fear, maybe even reluctance to let go of the lie we’ve been living.

He’s wrong.

But I can’t bring myself to correct him.

The ache in my chest spreads, sharp and relentless, as his words echo in my mind. Your father always liked me.

As if that matters now.

As if the man who raised me, who stood by me when no one else would, would ever approve of the way Raiden has treated

1. me.

For a moment, I imagine telling him. I imagine the look on his face when he realizes what he’s done, what he’s missed.

But the thought is fleeting. Because I know Raiden. I know the man he’s become, and I know that he wouldn’t care.

Not really.

He’d brush it off, the way he brushes off everything that doesn’t directly serve his purpose. He’d tell himself it wasn’t his fault, that he had more important things to deal with–things like Lila and her poisonous whispers.

The thought makes my stomach turn, a sick twist of anger and grief that I can’t suppress.

My wolf growls low, a quiet but insistent sound that vibrates through me, urging me to fight back, to say something, anything.

But I don’t.

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Instead, I force myself to take a breath, to steady the tremble in my hands. I focus on the weight of his hand on my waist, the faint pressure of his fingers, and remind myself why I’m here.

For the pack.

That’s what I tell myself. That’s what I’ve always told myself.

This isn’t about me, or the hollow ache in my chest, or the unbearable distance between us. This is about Windhowl. About the people who rely on me, who trust me to fight for them, even when it feels like I have nothing left to give.

So I swallow the pain. I shove it down where it can’t touch me, where it can’t make me weak.

“Right,” I say finally, my voice quiet but steady. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but it’s better this way.

Raiden doesn’t notice the way my hands tighten into fists at my sides. He doesn’t notice the way my wolf bristles in quiet defiance, her anger simmering beneath the surface.

He nods, satisfied, and steps back slightly, putting just enough distance between us to remind me of where we stand. The music swells again, a new song starting, and the crowd around us begins to shift, couples returning to the dance floor.

Raiden looks past me, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, I wonder if he feels it too–the weight of everything we’ve lost.

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Chapter 29

But then he turns away, his posture stiffas it is cold–heated, and the moment is gone.

Nothing has changed and I was stupid to think otherwise.

He doesn’t love you–he never will.

He never has.

I watch him for a heartbeat longer, my chest tight with everything I can’t say.

And then I turn back to the crowd, forcing a polite smile onto my face as I step off the dance floor.

The grief, the anger, the loneliness–they’ll have to wait.

Windhowl comes first.

Raiden’s POV

Something’s wrong.

But before I can dwell on it, my attention drifts.

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Lila stands at the edge of the ballroom, her presence impossible to miss. She’s poised and elegant, the soft light catching on the delicate features of her face. She’s watching me, of course, her lips curving into a faint smile that doesn’t quite reach her

eyes.

Something inside me softens.

It’s instinctual, automatic.

Lila has always been a sanctuary of sorts–a place where things are simple, where the weight of the kingdom, the pack, and everything else doesn’t feel like it’s crushing me. She doesn’t demand much from me, doesn’t push me to be something I’m

not.

And yet, as I look at her now, I feel… nothing.

No relief.

No comfort.

The softness fades almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a faint irritation I can’t quite explain.

“The next event is tomorrow,” I say abruptly, turning back to Siena. My voice is sharp, businesslike. “I trust Windhowl is prepared?”

She nods again, her movements robotic, almost detached. Her gaze is distant now, fixed somewhere over my

shoulder.

I frown. This isn’t like her. Siena is many things–proud, headstrong, infuriatingly stubborn–but she’s never this… hollow.

For a brief moment, I consider pressing her, asking her what’s wrong. But the thought dies before it fully forms.

What would be the point?

Siena and I don’t talk like that anymore.

Whatever it is, she’ll deal with it on her own. She always does.

I step back slightly, the space between us widening. She straightens her spine, her chin lifting just enough to radiate that quiet defiance I’ve come to associate with her.

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But there’s something in her posture that feels forced, like she’s holding herself together by sheer willpower.

And for some reason, it bothers me.

I watch as she turns away, her steps deliberate, every movement an exercise in control and composure.

Her back is straight, her shoulders squared, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s on the verge of breaking.

My wolf growls low in my mind, restless and unsettled.

You’re missing something, he says, his voice sharp and accusing. Look closer.

But I don’t want to look closer.

I don’t want to see whatever it is that’s hiding behind Siena’s mask, whatever it is that’s dragging her down.

Because if I see it–if I acknowledge it–then I’ll have to do something about it.

And I can’t.

Not now,

Not when everything between us is already so fractured, so broken.

I turn away, my gaze drifting back to the ballroom, but the sight of Lila doesn’t bring the distraction I hoped for.

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