Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 132

Chapter 132

Kira’s Perspective

I pressed myself close to the jagged edge of the cliff, keeping my body as low as possible with every cautious step. The experimental compound still coursed through my veins, breaking down unevenly and unleashing waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm me after only a few paces. Above, the harsh beam of a helicopter’s searchlight swept relentlessly across the rugged terrain. I had no choice but to freeze against the cold rock face, holding my breath until the light passed by.

“Just keep moving,” I murmured under my breath, lungs burning with each shallow inhale. “One step at a time. One foot in front of the other.”

Far off in the distance, I caught sight of a faint blinking light, flashing in a distinct pattern—three quick flashes followed by a long one. Andy and Mason. Relief surged through me, sparking a sudden burst of energy that pushed my trembling legs forward despite the exhaustion.

When I finally reached the agreed meeting spot, I found them waiting beside a rugged vehicle cleverly disguised as a hunter’s truck. Andy’s face visibly softened when he spotted me staggering toward them.

“God, we were starting to worry,” he said, hurrying over to steady me as I swayed.

Mason was already behind the wheel, the engine humming softly. “Did anyone follow you?” he asked, eyes flicking to the forest’s edge through the rearview mirror.

“No,” I whispered, collapsing into the back seat with a sigh of relief. “The diversion worked perfectly. They’re all searching the eastern perimeter.”

Andy quickly checked my pupils and pulse with practiced hands. “The compound’s breaking down faster than we thought. How did the mission go? Did you manage to get anything useful?”

Despite the fatigue weighing down my body, a triumphant smile spread across my face. “I got everything we needed—and then some. They had no clue who I really was.” I took a deep breath, steadying my voice. “And I identified their leader—the woman in the red mask. She’s the one running the entire operation.”

Andy’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re sure?”

“She was definitely the one,” I said, memories flooding back with crystal clarity. “The same woman who was there that day on the cliff. The one who confirmed my ‘death.’” My fists clenched involuntarily. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere. That cold, calculating tone—it’s haunted my nightmares for three years.”

The truck bounced along a narrow, unmarked forest path, deliberately avoiding main roads. We stayed silent, each of us alert, until we were certain no one was trailing us. Almost an hour later, we pulled up to a concealed mountain cabin—one of our organization’s safe houses.

Inside, Jennifer and the core team were already waiting. I wasted no time and played the recorded meeting footage on the central screen.

“They call it Project Phoenix,” I explained, pointing to the holographic images of the red-masked woman addressing her followers. “It’s about consciousness transfer technology and something they call ‘the ultimate vessel.’”

I stepped closer, tapping the screen to highlight a particular section. “Most importantly, they plan to perform their final ritual during the next full moon at Moonstone Cave.”

Jennifer studied the map displayed on the screen. “Moonstone Cave is located right at the intersection of three major wolf territories. The geographical position is incredibly significant.” She drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the table. “It probably creates a unique energy field that peaks during full moons.”

I considered something that had been gnawing at me. “Dominic helped me tonight… He might be a potential ally on the inside.” I recalled his words about Rocco being “used.” “He doesn’t seem to fully support what the Triads are doing.”

Jennifer spread out a detailed map of the area. “We need to scout Moonstone Cave ahead of time, understand its terrain and energy properties. We only have two weeks until the full moon.”

After the meeting ended, I made my way to the medical wing to see my father. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of monitoring machines. I sat beside his bed, gently taking his hand in mine.

“I found something that might explain your condition, Dad,” I said softly. “The red-masked woman mentioned consciousness transfer. What if that’s why you can’t wake up? What if part of you is… somewhere else?”

As I spoke, I noticed a small spike on one of the monitors. Then—was it just my imagination?—I felt a faint movement in his fingers.

“Nurse!” I called out, my heart pounding wildly. The nurse hurried in to check the readings.

“His brain wave activity has increased today,” she reported, surprise evident in her voice. “It’s as if he’s responding to something.”

Hope blossomed inside me, warm and tangible. Maybe he could hear me. Maybe uncovering the secrets of consciousness transfer was the key to bringing him back.

Later that night, I stood alone on the facility’s rooftop deck, gazing out at the mountains bathed in moonlight. The waxing moon hung low in the sky, and in just two weeks, it would be full—the night that would decide everything.