Alpha's Regret After She Kneels novel Chapter 92

#Chapter 92: Secret Admirer

#Chapter 92: Secret Admirer

(Siena’s POV)

The delicate silver hairpin Raiden gifted me years ago lies on my desk, shifted ever so slightly from its usual position–a subtle yet unmistakable sign that someone has invaded my sanctuary.

My breath catches sharply.

I step closer, and my senses sharpen with acute awareness.

Moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains, casting eerie shadows across the polished wood surface, highlighting the hairpin’s faint displacement. Anger coils tightly inside my chest, a hot wave of indignation at this blatant violation of my privacy.

Someone has been watching me, studying my routines, carefully tracking my movements.

The idea sends a chill down my spine, suspicion tightening sharply around my heart like icy, relentless fingers.

Could this violation connect directly to the suspicious border activity Raiden uncovered?

My wolf growls restlessly beneath my skin, hackles rising protectively at the thought of enemies lurking unseen, threatening my safety–and perhaps Windhowl itself.

Rather than immediately reporting my discovery, I decide swiftly to conduct my own investigation first.

Independence, hard–won confidence, and capability surge fiercely within me. I know I can go to Raiden and that he will tear

the pack ground apart, but I refuse to be the passive victim, dependent solely on others for protection.

Methodically, I examine every inch of my quarters, my fingertips lightly tracing furniture, shelves, and the mantelpiece, seeking subtle evidence of intrusion.

In one corner, near a small writing table, I pause abruptly, my fingers brushing against a faint indentation in the plush carpet.

Kneeling slowly, I inspect it closely–two distinct heel impressions, delicate yet unmistakable.

Female footwear.

Who among the pack could have reason to spy on me?

Who would dare? Have they forgotten that I am Luna? That I am as fierce as I ever was?

Mind racing, I recall the scent I caught near the border–a subtle, twisted version reminiscent of Lila’s–but different.

Could another female be involved, someone harboring personal motives against me? I swiftly recall past gatherings, social events, and diplomatic meetings, mentally cataloging names and faces.

Mia.

The name surfaces abruptly, sending another chill down my spine.

Mia, a noblewoman within Silverfang, is beautiful, ambitious, and known for her enduring affection toward Raiden.

The possibility twists sharply in my chest, complicated and alarming.

Mia and Lila are two women with vastly different motivations.

But do they have a common target?

Could they have joined forces, each driven by resentment, envy, or revenge?

***

I slam another file onto the growing pile, my heart racing as each new document confirms what I feared. The archive room smells of dust and secrets, musty pages rustling under my fingertips as I hunt for answers.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Darius asks, voice hushed in the midnight quiet.

“Financial discrepancies. Travel records. Anything connecting Mia to the southern territories,” I reply, not looking up from the ledger I’m scanning.

“Here,” he says suddenly, pushing a leather–bound journal across the table. “Diplomatic mission reports from last winter.” My eyes catch on a familiar name. “She claimed to be in Easthollow for three weeks, but these border crossing logs show…” “She was in exile territory,” Darius finishes, his expression hardening.

I flip through more pages, connecting dates and tracking patterns. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows across documents spread across every surface–financial records showing suspicious transfers, letters with coded language, travel logs with impossible timelines.

“Look at this,” I mutter, sliding a correspondence toward him. “Notice the seal? It bears the mark of the Blackthorn pack.”

#Chapter 92: Secret Admirer

“Exiles,” Darius breathes. “But how did she hide this? These meetings happened right under our noses.”

I grab another folder, papers spilling out as I rifle through them. “Her noble status. No one questions a diplomat’s

movements.”

The truth crystallizes with each passing minute, painful certainty settling like a stone in my gut. Across the room, the archive clock chimes three times, marking another hour lost to this grim treasure hunt.

The candle guttered as I swept the proof into my arms, my mind already racing ahead to the confrontation to come.. Anger swells fiercely inside me–anger at Mia’s betrayal of pack honor, anger at Lila’s relentless hatred, anger at finding myself again entangled in others‘ dangerous games.

I won’t run from confrontation–not this time. This threat demands action, courage, and direct confrontation.

Returning swiftly to my quarters, I carefully document every discovery, piecing together a clear timeline and connecting the dots meticulously.

So absorbed am I that when footsteps approach quietly outside my door, my heart leaps sharply, my pulse accelerating instantly.

Instinctively, I tense, eyes narrowing cautiously toward the door.

A quiet knock echoes softly. “Siena?” Raiden’s voice calls quietly through the wood, concern evident even through the barrier.

Warmth flickers gently inside my chest despite my fierce determination for emotional distance. Quickly composing myself, I rise and open the door, meeting Raiden’s midnight gaze, carefully masking my racing thoughts.

“Raiden,” I greet softly, stepping aside to let him enter. His eyes scan my quarters instinctively, protective instincts clear despite his careful politeness.

“I was making my patrol rounds,” he murmurs gently, eyes flickering briefly toward the evidence on my desk. “Are you alright?”

His genuine concern pierces softly through my defenses, and warmth stirs gently inside my chest. “I’ve discovered something troubling,” I admit quietly, motioning him toward the documents.

He steps closer, eyes narrowing sharply as he scans my carefully assembled evidence, tension visibly tightening his muscles. “Mia?” he breathes sharply, surprise and disbelief mingling painfully in his voice. “She betrayed Windhowl?”

“She’s aligned herself with Lila,” I confirm quietly, observing carefully as complex emotions flicker swiftly across his features–shock, betrayal, disappointment. “It seems jealousy and resentment make powerful alliances.”

He shakes his head slowly, eyes darkening softly with quiet anger. “I never suspected Mia. Her family has always been loyal.”

I studied him carefully and was reminded again of how differently we’ve perceived certain pack members. My outsider status once felt isolating, yet also granted a clearer perspective, less clouded by history, loyalty, or sentiment.

“Sometimes,” I murmur gently, “an outsider sees more clearly. Mia’s affection for you was obvious–and dangerous.” He nods slowly, accepting my quiet insight without defensiveness–yet another sign of genuine change within him. “We should fortify the northern pass,” I suggest, tracing the ridge line on the map with my fingertip. “It’s the most vulnerable approach, especially if they’re coming in force.”

Raiden nods, leaning closer. “Good thinking. I’ll have Kael’s unit set up there by nightfall.”

“What about the villagers in the outer settlements?” I ask, my diplomat’s mind immediately considering the civilians. “If we‘ re expecting conflict…”

“We bring them in,” he finishes my thought without hesitation. “Start with the families farthest from the stronghold. Rowan can coordinate the evacuations.”

“And if this is a diversion?” I challenge, testing our strategy. “If they’re planning to strike from another direction wh focus north?”

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A smile tugs at Raiden’s lips. “That’s why we need your eyes on this. I was thinking the same thing.” He pulls another map forward. “What if we position scouts here, here, and here? Small, mobile units that can report back quickly.” “Perfect,” I agree, surprised by how easily we’ve fallen into rhythm. “And I can reach out to the eastern alliance–they don’t need to commit forces, just increased patrols along their borders.”

“They’re more likely to agree if the request comes from you,” he acknowledges, respect evident in his tone.

His hand brushes mine as we both reach for the same marker, neither of us pulling away too quickly.