Alpha's Regret After She Kneels novel Chapter 85

Chapter 85

(Raiden’s POV)

The sky above Windhowl dawns blood–red, as if even the heavens condemn my foolish pride.

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I stand alone at the edge of the ceremonial grounds, where ancient trees tower solemnly, their branches stretched out like silent judges over today’s proceedings.

The clearing we chose for the duel lies quiet and still, the early morning mist drifting between the trees like ghostly specters.

My pulse pounds heavily in my ears, each heartbeat resonating with dread.

How did it come to this–facing Zion, my closest friend, in combat over a woman whose heart I so carelessly discarded?

My fingers tremble slightly as I kneel at the edge of the river, dipping my hands into the icy water as tradition demands.

The chill shocks my senses awake, reminding me of the gravity of what I’m about to do. I splash water across my face, feeling the frigid drops slide down my skin like tears I refuse to shed.

Horace shifts restlessly beneath the surface, conflicted and unsettled.

“Is this not what you wanted, wolf? To bar teeth against a friend, a brother?”

“There is no choice. He cannot have her. He cannot take your Luna Raiden!” Horace snarls, having now made up his mind.

I close my eyes, whispering quietly the old words taught to me by my father, words meant to honor ancestors and bless the battle ahead.

“Blood of my blood, spirit of my spirit,” I close my eyes, my voice barely audible. “Hear me now in this moment of trial.”

The words flow from memory, each syllable warming on my tongue like embers stirring to life.

“I stand where you once stood, facing what you once faced. Your strength flows through me, your wisdom guides my blade. For honor earned, not given. For victory with meaning, not glory. For the path that continues beyond me.”

I draw a slow breath, steadying myself.

Each syllable tastes bitter on my tongue. The ritual should grant me clarity, strength, and resolve, but instead, memories rush unbidden through my mind, tangled and painful.

It only gives grief, served cold, icy, and bitter on the tongue.

I see Zion, ten years old, laughing beside me as we race through these same woods, sunlight flashing bright through the leaves above.

We were inseparable then–brothers not by blood, but by the bonds we forged in childhood adventures and whispered secrets. Zion had always been steadfast by my side, loyal through every storm and victory alike.

I remember him at seventeen, standing tall beside me at my parents‘ funeral, his hand firm on my trembling shoulder, quietly reassuring me I wasn’t alone. The grief had nearly broken me then, yet Zion’s unwavering support had silently held my shattered pieces together.

Now, as I rise from the riverbank, those memories pierce my chest, sharp and clear.

My heart clenches painfully, guilt mixing violently with stubborn pride. The thought of destroying that bond over petty jealousy feels suddenly unbearable.

10:58 Fri, 25 Apr 040.

Chapter 85

Footsteps interrupt my restless thoughts.

Turning, I spot Rairity approaching quickly, worry etched clearly across her usually composed features

“Raiden,” she calls, breathless as she halts before me. “Siena intends to depart tomorrow, earlier feas planned

The words strike me like a physical blow, and panic floods sharply through my chest. Siena is leaving–again The Hea terrifies me in ways I never anticipated. The world feels like it’s falling underneath me.

“Tomorrow?” My voice sounds strained, unfamiliar even to my ears.

Rairity nods gravely, eyes filled with quiet sympathy. “She’s packing now. I thought you should know?

“Thank you,” I murmur numbly, turning away, my heart hammering furiously. The urgency to seek Siena out immediately wars with the weight of today’s duel. But pride still holds me stubbornly captive–my obligation to ancient tradition painfully binding.

“Rairity,” I clear my throat, “you should flee this place.”

Minutes later, the pack gathers silently around the clearing, forming a solemn circle beneath the pale morning sun.

Zion steps forward, meeting my gaze steadily, determination and sadness mingling in his eyes. Neither of us speaks, the silence heavy with unspoken regret. Instead, we shift quietly into our wolf forms, allowing ancient ritual to guide us into our

roles.

Brother why?

My midnight–black wolf emerges smoothly, powerful muscles rippling beneath sleek fur.

Zion’s silver–gray wolf mirrors my movements, calm and steady, his eyes unwavering as we circle each other slowly, cautiously. We know each other’s fighting styles intimately–every strength, every subtle weakness.

Our bond, forged over decades, now makes combat feel like betrayal.

The duel begins with sudden intensity, our wolves colliding in a flurry of teeth and claws.

Instinct takes over, primal and fierce, yet beneath each attack lies hesitation, reluctance. I lunge forward, jaws snapping. heart twisting painfully as Zion dodges skilfully aside, countering swiftly.

Each strike, each blow, shatters more deeply into my conscience.

I pin him briefly, my jaws inches from his throat, yet in the moment of advantage, memories flash vividly once more–Zion protecting me, defending me, standing loyally by my side through every hardship.

Horace falters, recoiling inwardly from the violence against a friend who has always stood by me.

Zion senses my hesitation, escapes my grasp, and pivots smoothly to face me again.

He’s breathing heavily, his eyes filled not with anger but with sorrow and understanding. Yet pride forces us forward again, combat resuming fiercely and unrelenting.

“Why are we still doing this, Raiden?” Zion pants, his chest heaving beneath my weight. His eyes, filled not with anger but with sorrow and understanding, meet mine.

I growl, releasing him reluctantly. “You know why.”

Pride forces us forward again, and combat resumes fiercely and unrelentingly. Our bodies collide, claws scraping, fangs flashing.

10:58 Fri, 25 Apr 0

Chapter 85

“This isn’t about the territory anymore, is it?” Zion grunts as he dodges my lunge.

“It was never just about territory. I snarl back, circling him.

Minutes stretch painfully, each second more meaningless than the last.

My wolf snarls, exhausted from internal turmoil far more than physical exertion.

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Finally, in a crucial moment, I manage to pin Zion again, paws pressing firmly against his side, jaws hovering at his neck, ready to force his submission.

My wolf freezes.

I cannot move–not forward, not backward–paralyzed by sudden clarity.

Victory here would mean losing something far more valuable than pride.

I see Zion clearly beneath me, not as a rival but as the brother I’ve always known.

Horace retreats willingly, shifting smoothly back into form as I stand before the assembled witnesses. Zion rises slowly, confusion flickering over his features, shifting into form as well.

“Enough,” I say quietly, my voice raw and emotional. “She was never a possession to fight over.”

Surprise ripples softly through the gathered pack, murmurs of quiet approval spreading gently. Zion watches me carefully before a slow, relieved smile curves gently across his lips.

“I hoped you’d see reason,” he murmurs.

My pride cracks fully, then, and humility rushes through the opening. “I was wrong, Zion,” I admit quietly, sincerity resonating clearly through my voice. I never should have challenged you. Siena deserves better than either of us trying to claim her like some prize.”