Alpha's Regret: Claiming My Stolen Twins

Seraphina’s POV

A gentle shake on my shoulder pulled me from sleep, followed by a soft voice saying, "Seraphina, it’s time to get up." I let out a low groan and tugged the covers over my head. The windows showed nothing but darkness outside.

Julian rarely rose before dawn unless pack matters demanded it. And when he did, he never disturbed my sleep.

"What’s wrong?" I mumbled, refusing to open my eyes.

"I have something special planned for you," he said, his tone unusually tender. "Put on warm clothes. Hiking gear."

Hiking? My eyes snapped open instantly. This had to be some kind of dream, but the cool morning air against my skin proved otherwise.

The memories from last night crashed over me like a wave, and the most crushing one was my failure to tell him the truth when he asked directly. I wanted to confess everything, but how could I after he publicly declared his intention to protect me? He was offering me everything he’d never given before, and the truth would shatter all of it.

"Julian, the sun isn’t even up yet," I said, my voice rough with sleep and irritation.

I despise keeping things from him, though it’s not exactly deception since he remains unaware.

He settled on the bed’s edge, maintaining some distance while staying close enough that I could sense his body heat.

"Please."

That single word undid me. It wasn’t his typical Alpha directive. It was a genuine plea. A gentle request that chipped away at my resistance, even if just slightly. "Fine," I exhaled, throwing off the blanket. "But if we encounter any insects, you’re carrying me back."

I slipped into my thickest leggings, pulled on a long-sleeved thermal top, added a waterproof jacket, and twisted my hair into a messy knot.

I couldn’t understand why I was agreeing to this when everything felt like an explosive device waiting to detonate, and I sensed it would blow up in my face eventually.

Julian stood waiting, gripping two thermal mugs and a compact backpack.

"Coffee?" he offered, holding out a mug.

"You’re my hero," I replied, taking a generous gulp. It was exactly right. Hot, sweetened perfectly to my taste. He had remembered somehow.

We stepped outside and headed toward the pack territory’s perimeter. The morning air was sharp and brisk, carrying the fresh scent of moist soil and pine. The sky gradually shifted from midnight blue to soft lavender, then delicate pink. Despite my earlier grumpiness about the early hour, it was genuinely stunning.

We found a narrow path that curved into the woods. Towering trees created intricate shadows against the brightening sky. Julian took the lead while I trailed behind, attempting to keep up with his stride, but my human limitations and shorter stature quickly caught up with me.

"Everything alright?" he asked, reducing his pace without glancing back. He must have detected my struggle.

"Perfectly fine," I fibbed, slightly breathless.

He paused and turned around. "There’s no hurry. This isn’t a competition." He extended his hand toward me. "Come on."

I wavered briefly before accepting it. His palm was warm and solid, his fingers curling around mine protectively. It felt wonderful. He didn’t drag me forward impatiently or make me feel inadequate. He simply held my hand as we resumed walking, his rhythm perfectly synchronized with mine. This was unprecedented. This was unlike the Julian who constantly seemed pressed for time, perpetually consumed with pack responsibilities. Today, his focus was entirely on me.

The woodland gradually stirred to life around us. We spoke little, just walked together, fingers intertwined. It was a peaceful quiet, something I never imagined we could share. My heart, which had been determined to leave, developed a small fissure. Was this his genuine attempt? Was he truly making an effort?

After what seemed like ages, the trail emerged into an open space atop a modest ridge. The entire valley spread before us, illuminated by the golden rays of the climbing sun. Wisps of fog still clung to the lower areas, transforming the forest into what looked like an infinite emerald ocean. It was absolutely magnificent.

I inhaled sharply, releasing Julian’s hand to press my palm against my lips. "This is incredible."

He positioned himself next to me, his attention focused on the panorama, a gentle smile crossing his features.

"I knew you’d appreciate it."

The sight left me so awestruck that I accidentally revealed something I hadn’t meant to share.

"I’ve always dreamed of exploring these areas, but without a wolf, it’s too dangerous for me to venture here alone."

Julian shifted toward me then, his expression growing serious as he studied my face.

He reached forward and carefully took both my hands in his. "I know you often feel diminished, inadequate, or vulnerable because you lack a wolf. I notice it in your expression sometimes, even when you attempt to mask it."

My stomach twisted. He understood.

"But there’s something you need to understand," he went on, applying gentle pressure to my hands. "You are the most resilient person I’ve ever encountered. Genuinely. More resilient than anyone in this pack, possibly even more than myself."

My eyes grew wide. Me? Stronger than him, the Alpha? This seemed impossible.

"You navigate each day in an environment that wasn’t designed for you," he elaborated, his stare intense and unwavering. "You maintain your dignity among people who are larger, quicker, and more instinctual, and you never retreat. You demonstrate courage, Seraphina. You show compassion even when others don’t reciprocate. You possess intelligence and wisdom, and you consistently perceive situations from angles others miss. These aren’t wolf characteristics. These are uniquely yours. And they are formidable."

He stopped speaking, drawing a deep breath. The sun had completely risen now, its warmth touching my cheek. "This pack couldn’t have received a superior Luna, Seraphina. You guide with a different form of strength, one we desperately require. You elevate us. You elevate me." He gazed into my eyes, and I witnessed such genuine sincerity there, such raw vulnerability.

My chest constricted, not with sorrow, but with a surge of something different. Hope. It was an emotion I had grown to resent recently.

Hope had become a feeling that consistently let me down, because whenever I attempted to cling to it or maintain any optimism, it would be torn away from me at the worst possible moment.

This morning had been extraordinary because he had created something solely for me, and I treasured every moment of it, but it couldn’t alter what I was concealing from him.