Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 10

POV: Seraphina

The next two days were a blur of frantic, secret work. I barely slept, fueled by black coffee and the fire Killian's data had ignited within me. The world outside the library faded away. There was no Damian, no Sylvie, no heartbreak. There was only data, maps, and the thrill of a complex problem to be solved. I cross-referenced his intelligence with my old research, plotting a new, viable route. It was dangerous, requiring three separate hand-offs and a bribe to a neutral territory elder known for his greed, but it was possible. It would work.

I compiled everything into a single, heavily encrypted file: maps, schedules, contact protocols, and multiple contingency plans. I wrote it from the detached perspective of an anonymous strategic advisor, removing all traces of myself from the language, then sent it to my father's Beta, Elias. I gave him the tool to save our people. The first shot in my silent war had been fired.

The victory felt distant and hollow, however, inside the walls of my own home, where I was losing a different kind of war every single day.

Nico came running into the garden later that day, his face alight with an excitement I hadn't seen him show for anything I'd ever given him. He was clutching a large, expensive-looking drone. It buzzed aggressively over my head, its camera lens like a single, judgmental eye.

"Sylvie bought it for me!" he shouted, not to me, but at me, as if I were merely an obstacle in his flight path. "She said if I'm a good boy and listen to her, she'll buy me anything I want. She's way more generous than you."

The words were a casual, brutal stab. I looked over at Sylvie, who was watching from the patio, a serene, maternal smile on her face as she sipped her tea. She was buying my son's affection with cheap plastic and empty promises, and Damian was letting her. She was teaching him that love was transactional, a lesson he would one day use against his own father.

Now, that same bracelet was clasped around another woman's wrist, a reward for replacing me in my own son's life. Damian hadn't just ignored my wish. He had taken it, weaponized it, and given it to her. It wasn't just an oversight; it was a deliberate, soul-crushing message. You are not worthy. Your desires are nothing.

Sylvie raised her hand, admiring the way the stones caught the light from the chandelier. My gaze was fixed on the shimmering gems, the symbol of my deepest, most private desires now worn as a trophy by my tormentor.

The bracelet cast a dancing reflection of light across her smiling face.