Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

“My luna, I’m home…” The words slipped out before I could catch them, as natural and involuntary as breathing itself.

I sank down beside her on the bed, the room tilting gently around me in a dizzying, yet oddly comforting way. My hand sought hers instinctively, our fingers weaving together without conscious thought.

“I’ve been searching for you,” I murmured, the alcohol loosening my tongue and lowering my defenses. “Everywhere. For so long.”

A sudden stiffness overtook her. “What do you want from me?” Her voice sounded distant, a little lost, as if she wasn’t quite sure who I was anymore. I tightened my grip on her hand, terrified she might vanish the moment I let go.

“I missed you,” I confessed, the liquor stripping away all my usual guardedness. My fingers traced the delicate contours of her wrist, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath my touch.

“Rocco, you’re drunk,” she said, her voice trembling. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

I leaned in closer, breathing in her familiar scent, a mixture of something soft and wild. “Kim means nothing to me.”

“Stop,” she urged, trying to pull away, but I held her firmly. “You chose her. You’re having pups with her.”

“The only woman I’ve ever truly loved is you,” I admitted, the truth spilling out uncontrollably. “Always you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and I reached up gently to catch one as it slipped down her cheek. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.”

“Rocco…” Her voice cracked under the weight of her pain. “If I were gone… what would you do?”

That question hit me like a punch to the chest. My throat went dry, and for a moment, I struggled to breathe, imagining life without Kira—her scent, her voice, her very presence—simply erased. My heart pounded so fiercely it felt like it might burst.

“I’d follow you,” I whispered, pulling her close until she was pressed against my chest. “I’d leave this world with you.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she replied bitterly. “You’d celebrate with Kim.”

A surge of anger flared through the fog of alcohol. I gripped her hand and pressed it firmly against my chest, where my heart thundered beneath her palm.

***

Morning arrived with bright sunlight streaming through the window and a pounding headache that throbbed behind my eyes. My mouth tasted foul, and my mind was foggy and sluggish. I felt warmth pressed against me and realized Kira was still there, curled up beside me.

She looked different in sleep—softer, younger somehow, without the usual pain and anger etched on her face. Yet she seemed thinner, shadows darkening the skin beneath her eyes. Without thinking, I reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.

Her eyes fluttered open—those deep, blue eyes that had always been my weakness.

Then reality crashed back in. What the hell am I doing? I pulled away quickly, creating distance between us as my defenses slammed shut.

She flinched at my sudden movement, confusion clouding her expression.

“Last night…” she began softly. “You said—”

“Nothing happened,” I cut her off, my voice cold and distant. “I was drunk.”