The Alpha's Greatest Regret Is Our Daughters

I finally accepted the truth.

Jordon no longer loved me.

He no longer loved our daughters, either.

The only comfort I had ever known was watching my little girls grow beneath the Moon Goddess's light.

Now even that had been taken from me.

At dawn the following day, my daughters' bodies were returned to the sacred fire.

When the rites were complete, I stood outside the Moon Shrine with two tiny ash urns cradled in my arms.

When they were born, they had been so small, sleeping peacefully against my chest.

Five years later, they had become smaller still.

So light that it felt as though the wind itself could carry them away.

My eyes burned, but I bit my lip until it bled, refusing to cry.

My sister-in-law watched me with quiet concern.

"If you want to cry, then cry," she whispered. "You don't have to carry all of this alone."

I did not answer.

Instead, I turned to Alpha Howell, who was preparing to leave for the ancestral burial grounds.

"Grandfather."

"My daughters will not rest in the Howell Pack's sacred tomb."

"I want them to bear only my name."

"They are not Howell heirs."

"They are my daughters."

"Daughters of Diana Joseph."

The old Alpha looked at me for a long time.

Then anger flashed across his weathered face.

"Where is that worthless grandson of mine?"

"On a day like this, where has he gone?"

My sister-in-law lowered her head.

"I can't reach him. His crystal communicator has been silenced."

The old Alpha closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, his voice was calm.

"You carried those pups beneath your heart."

"You brought them into this world."

"You have the right to decide."

I knelt before him and bowed three times.

I would always be grateful for everything the Howell Pack had given me.

But my daughters owed them nothing.

Not even in death would I allow them to suffer another injustice.

After the old Alpha departed, my sister-in-law gently helped me to my feet.

"I'm sorry, Diana."

I smiled faintly.

Without another word, I gathered my daughters' urns and returned to the packhouse alone.

I wanted to collect their belongings.

That place had never truly been a home.

I refused to leave the last traces of my girls inside those cold stone walls.

The moment I pushed open the door, quiet laughter drifted from the master's chamber.

A woman's gentle voice reached my ears.

"The healer said I should be careful with the pup."

Jordon answered with unmistakable tenderness.

"Don't worry."

"I'll protect both of you."

Their soft laughter echoed through the hall.

I stood frozen outside the chamber.

Every word felt like another blade driven into my heart.

I waited in silence until the door finally opened.

Annette stepped out first.

The moment she saw me, satisfaction flickered across her face.

"Oh, Diana."

"We didn't realize you were home."

"I told Jordon I shouldn't come here, but he insisted."

"What could I do?"

Jordon slipped an arm around her waist without the slightest hesitation.

"Why explain anything to her?"

He looked at Annette with a warmth I had not seen in years.

"Come on."

"The healer is expecting us."

"We need to make sure our pup is healthy."

From beginning to end, he never looked at me.

His entire world revolved around the she-wolf beside him.

I silently stepped aside to let them pass.

As Jordon walked by, his eyes finally fell upon the two small urns in my arms.

He frowned in disgust.

"What are you carrying?"

"Throw that filthy junk away."

Without waiting for an answer, he left with Annette.

The front door closed behind them.

I lowered my head and gently stroked the smooth wooden urns.

"He wasn't talking about you," I whispered, my voice breaking.

"Don't be sad."

"You are Mother's precious daughters."

"You were never... and will never be... worthless."