Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 184

Chapter 184

My body had undergone a profound transformation. The fragile Luna I once was, with gentle hands that barely bore a scratch, had grown toughened and calloused. The woman who had once depended on the raw power of a wolf had now sculpted lean muscles of her own. My knuckles had cracked open time and again, only to heal and harden repeatedly, until they became weapons forged by pain and endurance.

I found myself reaching for Rocco’s letter once more, flipping through its pages with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Then, a particular passage caught my attention, stopping me cold:

“I will find a way to bring you back to me, Kira. No matter what it takes. No one—not even death—will keep us apart forever. I promise you this on my blood and my wolf.”

A bitter smile curled at the edge of my lips. So this was the origin of his twisted obsession with resurrection—the reason behind that grotesque imitation of my body hidden away in his secret laboratory. The depth of his delusion was almost tragic, a desperate grasp at a past that no longer existed.

Gently, I folded the letter and slipped it back into the drawer. While Rocco had been drowning in grief and spiraling into obsession, I had been rebuilding myself from the ashes. While he clung to memories, I forged a new identity—one stripped of supernatural gifts but strengthened by human resilience and willpower.

“You never really understood me, did you?” I whispered to the empty room, my voice low and heavy with irony. The woman he longed to resurrect had vanished long ago—not through death, but through transformation.

I rose from the bed, my gaze sweeping over the room with a strategic precision. Tomorrow awaited, and I had to be ready—whether Rocco kept his promise at dawn or not. My ankle throbbed sharply, a reminder of my fragility, but the swelling had lessened enough that I could walk, maybe even run if the situation demanded it.

Limping toward the closet, I found my old clothes hanging exactly as I had left them—silent witnesses to a life that felt like a distant memory. I chose practical garments: sturdy jeans, supportive shoes, and a dark jacket that would serve me well if I had to face the world beyond these walls. If I was leaving tomorrow, I had to be prepared.

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