
The Alpha's Last Choice
Chapter 2
The scent of damp earth clung to the air, thick with the aftermath of the storm. Blood still stained the clearing, soaking into the ground, a stark reminder of the battle that had nearly cost us everything. The rogues had been relentless, their dark magic corrupting the land, their poison lingering in the air.
But none of it mattered. Because my world had already ended. Amber was dying in my arms.
I cradled her small, frail body against my chest, rocking her gently as if that could somehow will life back into her. Her once-glowing golden eyes—so full of mischief and laughter—were dimming, her breathing shallow, her skin cold despite the warmth of my embrace.
“Please, Rafael,” I begged, my voice barely a whisper. “She needs you. Our daughter needs you!”
Rafael stood frozen, his golden eyes flickering between our dying daughter and the boy lying broken beside Lyra. Elias. His other child. The son I never knew existed.
The war in his gaze was unbearable. The hesitation. The agony of the choice he had to make.
And then he spoke. “I’m sorry, Camilla.”
The words struck like a dagger to my heart.
I sucked in a sharp breath. “No… you don’t mean that.” My voice wavered, but deep down, I already knew. He did.
Rafael turned to Elder Corvin. “Do it. Save Elias.”
A strangled sob tore from my throat. “Rafael—”
But he didn’t even look at me.
The healers rushed forward, preparing for the blood ritual, their hands glowing with ancient runes as they surrounded Elias. Rafael moved to his son’s side, placing a hand on the boy’s pale forehead in a gesture that shattered the last of my heart.
I pressed my forehead against Amber’s, tears soaking into her silver hair. “I’m here, baby,” I whispered, my voice raw. “Mommy’s here.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t even move.
Her tiny fingers slipped from mine. And then—nothing.
A scream ripped from my throat, so full of pain and fury that the walls of the healer’s den trembled. Hands pried Amber from my arms, but I fought them, thrashing, sobbing, unwilling to let go.
“NO! DON’T TAKE HER FROM ME!” My wolf howled in my mind, clawing at my soul, desperate to stop what was happening.
Rafael didn’t stop them. He just stood there, silent, his hand still on his son’s shoulder while my world collapsed around me.
And in that moment, I knew. I would never forgive him. Not in this life. Not in the next.
The funeral was small. Silent.
Rain fell in a steady drizzle, soaking through my black robes, chilling me to the bone. But I barely felt it. I stood at the edge of the burial ground, my gaze locked on the small grave as the healers lowered Amber’s body into the earth.
My tears had long since dried. There was nothing left inside me. Nothing but hate.
Rafael stood a few feet away, his warriors forming a protective wall around him. Not once had he spoken to me since that night. He hadn’t even tried.
Not that it mattered. He had made his choice.
And now, my daughter—our daughter—was gone.
The priest murmured words about the Moon Goddess, about peace, about fate. But there was no peace. No plan. No divine path. Only a gaping hole where Amber used to be.
Then, movement. Rafael stepped back, phone pressed to his ear, his expression cold. And then he turned to walk away. Didn’t even stay until the burial was finished.
I already knew why. It was Lyra. She had called him and like a fool, he ran to her.
A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat, but I swallowed it, forcing the rage to simmer beneath my skin. My fingers curled into fists, my nails digging into my palms until they drew blood.
Rafael had abandoned his daughter’s burial because Lyra called.
I should have screamed. Should have begged him to stay. Should have demanded he grieve with me. But I was too broken. So I let him go.
And as the last of the dirt covered Amber’s grave, I swore—I would never forgive him.
Because the truth was, Lyra had taken everything from me.
She had left Rafael once. Chosen another wolf. Another life. Then, when her mate had been slaughtered, she had come crawling back.
Not just for Rafael. But for everything he had.
For my daughter’s place. For my life.
And Rafael—blind, stupid, heartless Rafael—had let her.
I stood there until midnight. The burial grounds were empty now, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the distant cries of owls. My legs ached, my body frozen from the rain, but I couldn’t move.
I was numb. Yet my mind wouldn’t stop.
Memories crashed over me like waves, drowning me in everything I once had—everything I lost.
Rafael used to be a good mate. A loving father. Even with the blood of an Alpha staining his hands, I had once believed in him.
I remembered the night I was taken. The ropes biting into my wrists. The laughter of the rogues who thought they could use me as leverage against him.
Then they were gunfire, screams. And Rafael had come alone, tearing through them like a beast unleashed. Blood splattered across the stone walls, bodies fell, but he didn’t stop until I was safe. Until I was in his arms.
His hands had trembled as he cupped my face.
“Did they hurt you?” His voice was raw, shaking.
I had only been able to shake my head before he crushed me against him.
“I would burn this world for you, Camilla.”
A broken sob escaped me as I clutched my coat tighter. He used to mean it.
Then another memory surfaced. The day Amber was born.
Rafael had paced outside the healer’s den like a caged beast, snapping at anyone who dared approach him. And when the midwife finally placed our daughter in his arms, his entire world shifted.
“She’s perfect,” he whispered. “My little moon.”
I had never seen him cry before, but that night, his eyes shimmered.
“I’ll protect her,” he had vowed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lies.
My fingers curled into the cold, wet earth. And still, the memories wouldn’t stop.
The time he took Amber to the highest peak of the mountain, showing her how to track the stars. The time he carried her on his shoulders, letting her pretend to be the fiercest Alpha in the world.
The time he told me—this was what he fought for.
“This is my world, Camilla. You. Her. Us.”
A bitter laugh ripped from my throat. Lies.
He fought for us once. But when it mattered most—when Amber needed him—he didn’t choose her.
Didn’t choose me. He walked away. And now, I was standing over my daughter’s grave while he was probably in Lyra’s arms.
The betrayal burned through me like fire, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. Because something inside me had already died. And it would never come back. But one thing remained. Hatred.
It is pure. All-consuming. And I swore on the Moon Goddess herself, Rafael would pay.
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