Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Kira’s POV

“Come on, Harper, just a few more steps.” I struggled under my friend’s weight as she stumbled against me, her arm draped heavily across my shoulders. The flashing lights of Dark Moon Clubhouse pulsed behind us as we made our way to the parking lot.

“I’m fine, totally fine,” Harper slurred, nearly toppling us both as she tried to straighten up. “Just need another drink.”

“You’ve had enough.” I tightened my grip around her waist when a tall male wolf approached us, his eyes predatory in the moonlight.

“Need help with your friend?” His gaze lingered on Harper’s exposed neck, nostrils flaring

to catch her scent. “I can take her home.”

“Back off.” My voice came out stronger than I expected, considering how weak I’d been feeling lately. “She’s with me.”

He stepped closer, towering over us. “Come on, sweetheart. She’ll be safe with me.”

Harper giggled and started to reach toward him, but I pulled her back. Not happening. Not tonight. Not ever.

“I said back off.” I met his gaze directly, channeling what little remained of my Luna

authority.

The wolf’s eyes widened slightly. He held up his hands and backed away. “Whatever. She’s

too drunk anyway.”

Once he disappeared back into the club, I let out the breath I’d been holding. My legs trembled with the effort of supporting Harper’s weight, but I managed to guide her to my

car.

“Where we going?” Harper mumbled as I buckled her in.

“My new place,” I answered, sliding into the driver’s seat. “And you’re staying the night.”

Twenty minutes later, I was unlocking the door to my apartment, supporting a half-

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Chapter 15

conscious Harper who kept mumbling about “cute werewolf bartenders” and “another

round of moonshine.”

“Welcome to my humble abode,” I said, guiding her inside and flipping on the lights.

The apartment was small–one bedroom with a tiny kitchen and living area–but it was mine. The windows faced east, offering a view of both the ocean and the distant forest edge. Dad’s caretaker’s cousin had rented it to me off the books, no questions asked and no records in the werewolf registry system. Perfect for staying low.

“This is nice,” Harper said, suddenly more lucid as she looked around. “Cozy.”

I helped her to the sofa and went to get water. “It’s temporary, but it works.”

“How’d you find it?” Harper accepted the glass, drinking deeply.

“Connection through Dad’s care team.” I sat beside her, my body aching from the night’s exertion. “No paperwork, no registry filing. Rocco can’t track me through pack networks.”

Harper nodded approvingly, then pointed to the small balcony. “That’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” I smiled slightly. “I thought Dad could sit out there when…” My voice trailed off. If he ever wakes up. If I live long enough to see it.

“He’ll love it,” Harper said firmly, squeezing my hand. “Now, where’s your bathroom? I

think I’m gonna be sick.”

After helping Harper through her nausea, I settled her on my woven mattress. I took the sofa, grateful for the thin throw blanket that smelled faintly of sea salt.

The small amount of alcohol I’d consumed at the club helped me fall asleep, momentarily forgetting the constant ache in my chest and the growing weakness in my limbs.

For a few hours, I slept deeply, without dreams of Rocco or visions of what might have

been.

I woke to the smell of coffee and toast. Blinking against the morning sunlight streaming through the windows, I found Harper in my tiny kitchen, fully dressed and looking surprisingly refreshed.

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“Morning, sleepyhead,” she called, waving a spatula. “Hope you don’t mind, I raided your fridge. You had exactly two eggs and some cheese, so I made us omelets.”

I didn’t answer. What’s planned is me slowly dying alone. But thanks for the optimism.

After she left, I spent some time cleaning the small apartment, finding comfort in the simple tasks. When I finally turned my phone back on, I wasn’t surprised to see missed calls from Rocco. Whatever he wants, it can wait. Or better yet, never happen at all.

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