Alpha's Regret: Claiming My Stolen Twins

Julian’s POV

The shrill ring of my phone cut through my brooding thoughts like a blade. My stomach clenched with dread. He only called when disaster struck.

"Alpha Julian." The voice on the other end was gravelly with exhaustion and grief. "We have a problem. Dorian hit again. The Ironridge Fang."

The words slammed into me like a freight train. Dorian. That bastard’s name left acid in my throat. Red rage clouded my vision, sharp and consuming. Another pack wiped out. How many more innocents would he slaughter before I could end him? My father’s face flashed in my mind, twisted in his final agony. The injustice of his death fed the inferno of vengeance burning in my chest.

"Ironridge," I growled, my voice barely human. "He’s getting cocky with each strike." My hands curled into fists so tight my knuckles cracked. This wasn’t just about pack protection anymore. This was blood calling for blood. He’d stolen my father from me, and now he was carving a trail of devastation across our lands. I would make him pay.

"I’m going there," I declared, each word razor-sharp with purpose. "I need to examine the wreckage personally. More importantly, I need to understand how he keeps blindsiding these packs. His weapons, his tactics... I need to study his methods if we’re going to destroy him." The Alpha King’s silence told me he grasped the urgency. We couldn’t keep playing defense while he picked us off one by one.

When the call ended, my office felt suffocating. I closed my eyes, forcing my breathing to steady, channeling the rage into cold focus.

I reached out through the mindlink to Caleb, Holden, and Seraphina simultaneously. Time was a luxury I didn’t have.

The door whispered open, and suddenly the room filled with warmth and light as Seraphina entered. My wolf stirred with desperate longing. Despite everything broken between us, despite the fights and the silence, she was still here. Her dedication to our pack and our children transcended whatever personal anguish she harbored toward me. It proved that our bond endured, even when it felt shattered beyond repair.

Caleb’s expression was grim with worry. Holden stood at attention, arms folded, ready for orders. They flanked Seraphina closely.

"We have developments," I announced, keeping my voice level despite the chaos raging inside me. "Dorian struck Ironridge Fang. The Alpha King needs me to assess the situation. Before I leave, everyone stays on high alert. Any irregularity, any threat, I want immediate notification."

I watched concern flicker across their faces. They understood the stakes. "For our protection," I continued, my gaze sweeping over them all, lingering on Seraphina who maintained careful distance, "I’ve deployed scouts along our perimeter. They’ll provide early warning of any approaching danger."

They acknowledged with nods. But knowing I’d be gone while Dorian remained a threat gnawed at me. Then Seraphina delivered the blow that nearly brought me to my knees. Without acknowledgment, without even a glance, she turned and walked away. Her footsteps echoed like hammer blows against my heart. My wolf whimpered silently at the rejection. It was agony every single time, a constant reminder of the chasm that had opened between us. I swallowed the pain. I couldn’t afford distractions now.

Minutes later, tentative knocking interrupted my dark thoughts. I recognized it immediately. Mr. Jenkins. I blinked in surprise. We hadn’t had private time together, and when I’d sent the mindlink, I hadn’t expected him to drop everything and rush over. It showed how deeply he cared for Seraphina.

He entered, eyes wide with bewilderment. "I still can’t wrap my head around it," he began with nervous laughter. "Werewolves exist. And you all just... accept it. Like it’s perfectly ordinary."

I managed a tight smile. Some tension eased from my shoulders. "It’s our nature, Mr. Jenkins. You’ll adjust."

His expression shifted abruptly. Wonder vanished, replaced by profound paternal concern that caught me off guard with its intensity.

He settled into a chair, face grave. "Julian, during the years Seraphina lived with us before arriving here, she was... fragile. We witnessed the pain in her eyes. We tried everything to bring her joy, and mostly succeeded. But something was always absent. When we first visited here, we saw her genuine happiness with you. But the Seraphina I see now..." He paused, features creased with worry. "She’s become someone else entirely."

Shame crashed over me, hot and suffocating. Unspoken truths hung heavy between us. The miscarriage. The devastation. My role in all of it.

"Don’t carry guilt alone, Julian," Mr. Jenkins said, his voice gentler now, filled with compassionate understanding. "Seraphina isn’t the only one who suffered loss. Losing a child cuts deep. She might feel it more acutely, but that doesn’t diminish your pain." His gaze met mine, kind but unwavering. "She hasn’t explained why she holds you responsible for the miscarriage, but I can see that whatever occurred, you never intended harm. That’s why I’m not..." he chuckled with mild amusement, "coming at you with fists raised." My wolf gave a silent, amused huff. Mr. Jenkins, bless his heart, wouldn’t stand a chance against werewolf strength.

He leaned forward, hands clasped. "Love, Julian," he said with hard-earned wisdom, "isn’t just blissful days and perfect moments. It’s also about the wounds you inflict on each other. More crucially, it’s about how you stand together, how you refuse surrender, especially when you’re both at rock bottom."

His stare intensified. "Fight for your family, Julian. Fight for the woman you love."

His words struck deep, igniting hope in the darkness. Mr. Jenkins, the human, saw everything clearly. He recognized the fractured love, the unbreakable foundation beneath, and he reminded me of my own power, my wolf’s relentless determination. I had to fight. For Seraphina. For our children. For the future Dorian would never destroy. The road ahead bristled with threats, from Dorian’s violence and from Seraphina’s distance, but Mr. Jenkins’s counsel was the spark I needed. I would fight.