Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 143

Chapter 143

“Don’t look so terrified,” Ethan sneered, completely misinterpreting the fear that flickered across my face. “This is exactly what happens when pretty little things wander into private rooms with men like me.”

My voice trembled just a bit as I tried to steady myself. “I only wanted to talk about—”

“Talk?” He laughed, the sound bouncing harshly off the walls. “No one comes up here to talk.”

My heart hammered in my chest, steady and strong as I took in the scene around me. Three years of relentless, brutal training had been preparing me for this very moment. I watched him carefully as he moved closer, noting the wider stance he took, the way he leaned forward with confidence, and the glimpse of his bare midsection beneath his shirt.

When he was close enough for me to catch the scent of his expensive cologne, I met his gaze squarely, letting go of the frightened façade I’d been holding.

“You really think I came here to be your victim?” I asked, my voice suddenly calm and unwavering.

For a brief second, confusion flashed across his face—a hesitation so quick it almost went unnoticed. That was the opening I needed.

The instant his hand reached out toward me, I drove my knee up sharply with precise force. The blow made him double over, a strangled gasp escaping his lips more from shock than pain. Without missing a beat, I followed up with a brutal elbow strike to the back of his neck, sending him crashing hard onto the floor.

“Three years of training wasn’t wasted after all,” I said, circling him as he struggled to catch his breath.

Ethan staggered to his feet, his handsome features twisting into a mix of bewilderment and fury. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, eyes flicking nervously toward the door. “Normal women don’t fight like that!”

I kept my distance, watching every move he made. “I’m here to collect a debt, Ethan Morris.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied me more closely. Something flickered in his expression—a mix of recognition and disbelief. “No way… you’re…”

I didn’t give him the chance to finish. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, I slid my hand beneath my dress to the thigh holster and pulled out a slender silver blade that shimmered faintly in the dim light.

The wolf—Ethan—moved slowly around me, searching for any sign of weakness. I mirrored his movements, holding the silver dagger steady between us.

“I’ve faced wolves stronger than you, Ethan,” I said, the calm in my voice surprising even myself. “My father trusted you. Gave you an education. A chance at something better. And this is how you repay him?”

Without warning, he lunged—a blur of fur and flashing teeth. I stepped aside smoothly, my body reacting from countless hours of training. The silver blade sliced across his front leg as he passed, eliciting a sharp, pained yelp. Where the metal touched, his fur smoldered slightly—silver wounds don’t heal like normal injuries for werewolves.

Ethan retreated, clearly caught off guard by both my speed and the weapon’s effect. He circled again, this time more carefully. I observed his movements closely, noticing how he favored his right side after each pass.

“Right hind leg… old injury,” I muttered under my breath, analyzing his gait. “That’s your weak spot, isn’t it?”

My words seemed to enrage him further. He charged again, crashing into the furniture and sending an expensive lamp shattering to the floor. The cramped suite worked to my advantage, limiting his ability to use his superior speed.

“Anger makes you careless, Ethan,” I said, holding my ground. “Is that why you target women? Because they don’t fight back?”