Alpha's Regret: Claiming My Stolen Twins

Seraphina’s POV

I stood in the doorway watching Ma settle into the comfortable chair beside the bed, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea. Pa had already drifted off to sleep, his gentle breathing filling the quiet room. From the adjoining room came the sound of Theo and Elena’s laughter as they played with the board game I had arranged for them earlier.

"You have everything you need, right Ma?" I asked for what must have been the fourth time that evening.

Ma’s weathered face softened with a patient smile. "We have everything we could want, Seraphina. Stop fussing over us and go handle whatever’s weighing on your mind."

I forced myself to nod and return her smile, though my chest felt tight with worry. Making sure they were safe and comfortable had been the easy part. Now came the conversation I had been dreading, the one I could no longer postpone. I had to face Julian.

The moment I stepped outside, my stomach clenched with dread. The evening air should have been refreshing, but it did nothing to cool the fire of rage that had been burning in me for days. Each step toward the main building sent conflicting signals through my body. My human side wanted to turn around, to barricade myself in the room with my children and pretend the world outside didn’t exist.

But my wolf was practically vibrating with anticipation. She had been starved for weeks now, denied the presence of our mate. That was how long I had been deliberately avoiding him, how long he had respectfully maintained his distance. Yet my wolf was trembling with desperate need, sensing that he was so close, craving his touch, his scent, his very essence. The internal battle was excruciating. My heart was heavy with betrayal and loss while my wolf ached with longing. I despised being pulled apart like this.

I marched directly to his office and rapped my knuckles hard against the solid wooden door. "Enter," came his voice from within, that familiar deep timber that seemed to resonate through my bones. Had it always affected me this way, or was I simply more aware of everything about him now?

When I pushed through the door, he sat hunched over his desk, studying documents spread across the surface. At the sound of my entrance, he lifted his head and those striking brown eyes widened in obvious shock. Something flickered across his features too quickly to interpret, was it longing, was it relief?

He obviously hadn’t expected me to come. We hadn’t exchanged a single word in over a week. Standing there now, my throat felt constricted and foreign. What words could possibly bridge this chasm between us? My mind felt blank, but my purpose remained clear.

"Seraphina," he breathed, immediately pushing back from his desk. The hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth as he began to rise, taking a tentative step in my direction. "God, it’s good to see you. I have been going crazy missing you."

My jaw clenched involuntarily. "Don’t," I said sharply, my voice cutting through the air like ice. "I’m not here for pleasantries."

The smile vanished from his face instantly. His brow furrowed deeply, and through our mate bond I felt a wave of bewilderment followed by a sharp spike of hurt. The emotion hit me like a physical blow, his anguish becoming mine. My wolf whimpered internally, desperate to comfort him, to take back my harsh words. But I forced myself to suppress those instincts, to wall off the feelings flooding through our connection. I couldn’t afford to care about his pain. I couldn’t allow myself that weakness. I had to remain strong, even though every fiber of my being wanted to collapse.

I dug into my pocket and retrieved Dorian’s crumpled letter. Without meeting his gaze, I approached his desk and dropped it onto the wooden surface. "This is from Dorian."

He snatched up the paper, his expression becoming carefully neutral. As he unfolded the letter and scanned its contents, I studied his reaction. His jaw tightened progressively, his knuckles went white around the edges of the paper, and a low rumbling growl emanated from deep in his chest. His wolf was surfacing, flooding the room with dangerous energy. He snapped his gaze up to meet mine, eyes blazing with unspoken questions.

"I cannot risk losing Ma and Pa," I stated quietly but with absolute conviction. The fear was genuine, a cold knot of terror in my stomach.

He slammed the letter down onto the desk with enough force to make me jump, his eyes burning with fierce determination. "You will not lose them," he growled, his voice carrying the full weight of his authority and protection. "I swear to you, I will never let you lose anything precious to you again."

I let out a harsh laugh completely devoid of humor. My eyes locked onto his, challenging him to contradict me. "You already failed to protect our child," I reminded him, each word designed to cut deep. His face crumpled with grief, and another powerful surge of anguish crashed through our bond. But I held my ground, refusing to flinch. "I don’t trust you enough to gamble with my parents’ lives, Julian."

The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with unspoken heartbreak and resentment. When he finally found his voice, it was barely above a whisper, thick with sorrow. "Will this rage consume us forever, Seraphina?"

I shook my head firmly, my gaze unwavering. "No. Not forever. Because the moment we eliminate Dorian, I’m taking my children and disappearing into the human world permanently."

His eyes went wide with shock, his entire body going rigid. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but I cut him off before he could speak. I needed him to hear this, to truly understand. "I will never keep your children from you," I clarified, allowing a fraction of softness to creep into my tone. Even in my pain, I recognized that would be unforgivably cruel. "They can visit you whenever they want. You can visit them too. But I cannot bear to see you every single day. It serves as a constant reminder of everything I have lost. Because of your choices."

He finally managed to speak, his voice a broken whisper. "I lost our child too, Seraphina."

I looked at him then, really studied his face. His pain was written in every line, visible in the way his shoulders sagged with defeat. But I couldn’t allow myself to be moved by it. Not yet. "I don’t care," I told him, the words cold and final, a lie I desperately needed to believe.

Another silence fell between us, even heavier than before. Then I remembered the courtesy I owed him, the small acknowledgment that was due. "Thank you," I said, my voice softer now, almost monotone. "For bringing Ma and Pa here."

He nodded distantly, his gaze unfocused. "I knew you needed them," he replied simply.

There was nothing more to be said. I turned on my heel and walked out of his office, the heavy door closing with a soft click behind me. As I made my way back across the grounds, an odd sensation settled over me. We had been physically so close just moments ago, but emotionally we might as well have been on different planets. His scent still clung to my clothes, his emotions still echoed faintly in my heart through our connection. But the further I got from him, the more the aching subsided. And right now, that numbness was exactly what I needed.