Alpha's Regret After She Kneels novel Chapter 93

(Siena’s POV)

The ancient Stone Circle rises from the earth like the spine of some great beast, massive granite monoliths standing sentinel against the twilight sky.

Firelight flickers across their weathered surfaces, casting long shadows that seem to dance with purpose across the packed dirt of the ceremonial ground.

Overhead, a full moon pushes through gathering storm clouds, its silver light occasionally breaking through to bathe the arena in ghostly radiance.

The mountainous landscape surrounding us forms a natural amphitheater, with pack members filling every available space on the tiered slopes. Their breath creates a fine mist in the cooling night air, giving the entire gathering an ethereal quality—half-solid, half-spirit.

The music begins, low and haunting, the drumbeats reverberating through the open arena as the unity challenge officially starts.

Around us, the gathered packs form a wide circle, their eyes fixed on the center where Raiden and I stand. The air is thick with their judgment heavy and unspoken. I can feel it pressing against my skin, suffocating in its intensity.

Raiden steps closer, his presence a familiar and yet false weight at my side.

His expression is carefully neutral, as it always is, but I can sense the tension in the set of his jaw, the slight stiffness in his shoulders.

He doesn’t want to be here any more than I do.

But our reasons aren’t the same.

The ceremonial dance is meant to symbolize harmony between Alpha and Luna, a spiritual connection that transcends words.

It’s laughable, really. Raiden and I haven’t been in harmony for years.

Our bond is nothing but a faint echo now, a thread stretched so thin it’s a wonder it hasn’t snapped entirely.

Still, when the first notes of the melody swell, my body remembers.

Years of formal events, of endless practice and expectation, have etched the steps into my muscle memory.

I turn to face him, my head held high, and he mirrors the movement instinctively. For all our differences, our bodies fall into rhythm without hesitation, as if they’ve been waiting for this moment.

Raiden’s hand finds my waist, his touch light but steady. The contact sends a jolt through me, sharp and electric, like a shockwave rippling through the damaged bond between us.

I inhale sharply, but I don’t pull away. Instead, I let my hand settle on his shoulder, my fingers brushing against the fabric of his jacket.

The crowd fades into the background as we begin to move, our steps perfectly synchronized. The dance is slow and deliberate, each movement flowing seamlessly into the next. For a moment, it feels almost… natural.

His hand tightens slightly on my waist as he guides me through a turn, and I glance up at him, surprised by the intensity in his midnight eyes.

“You’ve lost weight,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

The comment catches me off-guard. I falter for half a step, but he adjusts effortlessly, keeping us in sync.

“I’ve been busy,” I reply, my tone clipped. I don’t want to talk about this, not here, not now.

But he doesn’t let it go. “Busy enough to forget to eat?”

I glance away, focusing on the rhythm of the dance, the steady cadence of the drums. “It’s not your concern,” I say quietly, though the words lack conviction.

His hand tightens again, just enough to make me look up at him. There’s something in his expression that I can’t quite place—concern, maybe, or regret. It’s unsettling.

“I’ve been thinking about your father,” he says, his voice softer now. “What happened. I should have been there.”

The admission stops me cold.

My steps falter, but Raiden steadies me, keeping us moving as if nothing has happened.