Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 267

hapter 267

Iris’s POV

“I’ve already made reservations at the restaurant,” Sebastien said, his fingers naturally closing around my wrist. The warmth of his skin against mine sent an unwelcome jolt through my body.

I looked down at where his hand touched me, hating how my pulse immediately quickened beneath his fingertips. He could probably feel it-damn werewolf senses-but I forced my face to remain expressionless as I glanced up at him.

“Sebastien, what exactly are you doing?” I couldn’t keep the cold edge from my voice. The evening air felt suddenly too thick to breathe properly. “Last night you break into my room with some story about Megan, and today you’re acting like we’re,” I trailed off, not even sure what to call whatever this was

His gray eyes held mine steadily, clear and intense in the fading daylight. “I told you last night, Iris. There was never anything between Megan and me. Not then, not now.”

The conviction in his voice made something twist inside me. He’d said similar words last night, and now he was repeating them with such certainty. Was this all an elaborate act to make me believe him completely? After years of thinking he’d chosen Megan over me, could it really have been a misunderstanding all along?

“Is that so?” I kept my tone deliberately flat, but my mind raced with implications. If what he said was true, then what did that make of everything he’d done to me? The cold shoulders, the distant behavior, the way he’d treated our marriage like a business arrangement rather than a bond between mates? The werewolf marking ritual wasn’t something to be taken lightly, yet he’d acted like it meant nothing.

I pulled my wrist from his grasp, the skin tingling where his fingers had been. “I have things to do. Excuse me.”

Sebastien stepped smoothly in front of me, blocking my path. His scent-that familiar blend of cedar and something uniquely him-filled my nostrils, making my wolf stir restlessly. “The pup, Iris. Were you ever going to tell me about it?”

My steps faltered. The way he said it not accusatory but almost hurt-made guilt flicker through me despite my best efforts to squash it. My hand

instinctively moved toward my stomach before I caught myself and lowered it back to my side.

He was right about one thing: this was his child too. As the father, he had a right to know, regardless of our complicated relationship or how badly he’d

treated me in the past.

I took a steadying breath, catching a hint of his scent again. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Sitting in the passenger seat of Sebastien’s sleek black car, I kept my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.

Silence filled the space between us, heavy and charged. I could feel him glancing at me occasionally, his gaze like a physical touch, but I refused to meet his eyes. Instead, I focused on the buildings sliding past the window, the colors of sunset painting everything in warm golden hues that contrasted sharply with

the cool tension inside the car.

What was he playing at? After last night’s revelation about Megan, and now this dinner invitation… was it because he knew about the baby? Or was there something else? The Sebastien I thought I knew would never have made this effort unless he wanted something. But the expression in his eyes when he looked at me seemed different somehow-less calculating, more… what? I couldn’t quite name it, and that uncertainty made my stomach twist with anxiety..

Rachel’s warnings echoed in my head. “He’s only interested now because you’ve finally found your value without him.” Was that it? Was this just his wounded pride because I had finally walked away? Or could there be truth to what he said about Megan? That it had all been a misunderstanding that somehow

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Chapter 267

stretched across years of our relationship?

I hated how much I still eared about the answer. Hated how, despite everything, some small part of me wanted to believe him.

The car slowed to a stop, and I looked up at our destination. My stomach clenched instantly, a cold wave washing over me. I recognized this place the elegant facade of La Maison, with its warm lighting and discreet valet service. This was the same restaurant where I’d seen Sebastien and Megan together months ago, their heads bent close in conversation, her hand resting intimately on his arm while I stood frozen, unnoticed, feeling my world crumble.

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9:13 am GP P

Jealousy Alpha’s Regret

Chapter 268

I couldn’t help the bitter smile that twisted my lips. Was this deliberate? Another one of his mind games? Or did he not even remember what this place

meant to me?

“What?” Sebastien asked, noticing my expression, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Nothing,” I replied, the word sharp with sarcasm I didn’t bother hiding. The past was the past, and I didn’t need to give him the satisfaction of knowing this place still bothered me.

He studied me for a moment longer, his eyes intense as if trying to read my thoughts. I kept my face carefully blank, but I wondered if he could sense my emotions anyway-werewolves were sensitive to changes in scent, and my pregnancy had only heightened my own senses. Could he smell the bitter hurt that still lingered underneath my practiced indifference?

Inside, a hostess led us to a private table near the back, tucked away in a corner that offered an illusion of privacy. The restaurant hummed with quiet conversation and the gentle clink of silverware against fine china. Warm lighting cast a golden glow over everything, designed to flatter and seduce.

Sebastien moved to pull out my chair, his hand brushing the small of my back. I sidestepped him smoothly and seated myself, ignoring the flash of disappointment that crossed his face.

“Don’t,” I said quietly when he tried to help. I needed to keep my guard up, to remember all the nights I’d cried myself to sleep because of this man. His sudden attentiveness couldn’t erase years of cold indifference. I wouldn’t let myself be fooled again.

The waiter arrived with menus, and I watched Sebastien order a selection of appetizers-all dishes I used to love. The truffle risotto I’d once called my favorite, the seafood platter we’d shared on rare good evenings. My traitorous heart gave a little lurch at the realization that he still remembered my preferences after all this time.

To counter this unwelcome feeling, I deliberately selected several expensive/items I knew I disliked, including a carrot-based salad that cost nearly fifty

dollars. The slight furrow between Sebastien’s brows told me he’d noticed./

“You hate carrots,” he said after the waiter left, his voice low and intimate in the space between us. “You’ve always said they taste like dirt.”

“Mr. Grey,” I replied coolly, smoothing my napkin across my lap, “what kind of relationship do you think we have that requires me to explain my changing

tastes to you?”

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but his eyes-those damn expressive eyes-showed a flash of something that looked suspiciously like hurt. Good. Let him feel a fraction of what I’d felt all these years.

I scanned the restaurant, noting its tasteful décor and soft lighting, designed to create an intimate atmosphere. Several other couples sat at nearby tables, lost in their own worlds. How many of them were hiding secrets and pain behind their smiles? How many were playing the same kinds of games Sebastien

and I had mastered?

Throughout the meal, I kept waiting for him to bring up the pregnancy. It was the whole reason we were here, wasn’t it? Yet he never mentioned it. Instead, he asked about my designs, commented on the food, and even inquired about Jack Lowell’s health with seeming sincerity.

I pushed the carrot salad around my plate, taking an occasional bite just to maintain the pretense. The food tasted like nothing in my mouth, my appetite diminished by the swirling emotions and morning sickness that still hadn’t completely faded.

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Chapter 268-

Why we really here, Sebastien?” I finally asked, setting dowfr my fork with a soft clink against fine china.

“To talk, he replied simply, his eyes never leaving my face. I noticed he’d barely touched his own food.

“About the baby?” I pressed, keeping my voice low enough that nearby diners wouldn’t overhear.

His eyes never left mine, but something in them softened, the hard gray warming slightly. ‘Is that all you think I care about?!

The question caught me off guard. What game was he playing now? I studied him carefully, noticing the way his gaze lingered on my face with an almost

tender expression I hadn’t seen in years. It reminded me painfully of the early days, before our marriage became a cold business arrangement, when I’d

believed he might actually care for me.

“What else would you care about?” I asked carefully, my fingers tightening around my water glass.

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