The Alpha’s Regret Under the Blood Moon

Adriana knew how dangerous tenderness could be.

If she allowed herself to soften now—if she clung to this small flicker of warmth—her resolve to leave the territory might crumble.

She inhaled slowly, steadying herself.

“Well,” she said lightly, forcing a teasing tone, “you’re the Alpha everyone has to schedule weeks in advance just to consult. Now you’re personally tending to me for free. I should feel honored. Most wolves can’t even get a proper appointment with you.”

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Nathanie’s hands paused for the briefest moment. His brows drew together faintly, as if he sensed something beneath her words.

Was she mocking him?

The thought irritated him more than he expected.

He suppressed the feeling and resumed applying the liniment, his fingers firm but controlled as he worked around the swelling.

Only after he finished rubbing the first layer into her skin did he finally speak.

“Olivia’s place was broken into last night,” he said, voice calm. “I’ve arranged for her to stay here for a while. Just until things settle.”

Adriana’s body went still.

So that was it.

The unusual patience earlier. The missing key. The guest room that had been freshly cleaned.

None of it had been spontaneous.

He had already planned everything.

And only now was he informing her.

A quiet understanding settled over her chest like frost.

She considered objecting. For a split second, she imagined asking why he hadn’t discussed it with her first.

But what would that change?

“It’s your territory,” she replied after a moment, her tone even. “Handle it however you see fit.”

Her compliance seemed to dissolve whatever explanation he had prepared. The tension in his shoulders eased.

“You’re not bothered?” he asked, almost cautiously.

She met his gaze.

“No.”

The answer came easily.

Relief flickered across his face. He rose to his feet and placed the bottle of liniment beside her.

“Reapply it gently in about half an hour,” he instructed. “I’ll go sit with Olivia. She’s downstairs alone.”

Of course she was.

“I’ll come back later,” he added.

Adriana nodded faintly.

Inside, she marked another tally.

He had received reassurance. That was enough. He could leave without guilt.

He reached the door and grasped the handle.

Then he paused and glanced back.

“Adriana,” he said, his tone shifting slightly, “Olivia is sensitive. Try not to behave so coldly around her next time. She might misunderstand.”

She blinked.

So that was it.

Her quiet retreat upstairs had been impolite.

Should she have stayed and shared their leftovers instead?

Her fingers tightened around the liniment bottle until her knuckles paled.

Still, she forced her lips into a polite curve.

“I understand,” she replied softly. “Please apologize to her for me.”

That seemed to satisfy him.

He gave a small nod and left.

The door closed with a soft click.

The moment the sound echoed through the room, her composure shattered.

Tears spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

This was the wolf she had loved for three years.

Her chosen mate.

And yet, not once had she truly occupied the center of his heart.

The throbbing in her ankle was nothing compared to the ache spreading through her chest. It felt as if her ribs were caving inward, crushing something fragile beneath them.

When the time came to apply the liniment again, she did it herself.

She didn’t expect him to return.

Downstairs, faint laughter drifted up the staircase—light, easy, intimate.

She lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling in the dim room, feeling colder than the night air outside.

Eventually, thirst forced her to move.

She pushed herself upright and made her way downstairs, gripping the railing as she descended.

Each step sent a dull wave of pain up her leg.

When she reached the kitchen and approached the water dispenser, she automatically reached for her usual cup.

It wasn’t there.

In its place sat a new porcelain mug—delicate, unfamiliar.

She didn’t need to ask whose it was.