Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 11

POV: Seraphina

The message arrived three days later, at dawn. I was already awake, sitting by the library window, watching the gray light creep over the oppressive walls of the estate. These three days had been an exercise in control, a tightrope walk over a pit of anxiety. I moved through the motions of being a Luna, a mother, a wife, while my mind was miles away, tracking a phantom convoy through treacherous lands. Every time Damian looked at me, I felt a jolt of fear that he could see my betrayal, my secret defiance. My phone vibrated with the encrypted notification from Elias, and for a second, my heart stopped. My fingers were slick with nervous sweat as I unlocked the screen, my breath held tight in my chest.

"Route successful. First shipment arrived safely. Kael is stable and asking for his mother. The Alpha sends his deepest gratitude to the ‘consultant' and says her mind is as sharp as any warrior's fang."

Relief washed over me so powerfully my knees felt weak. I had to brace myself against the cold glass of the window, my eyes closing as I let the words sink in. Successful. Stable. I had done it. From this gilded cage, I had reached out and saved a life. I had outmaneuvered the great Alpha Damian Blackwood, a man whose power was legendary, using nothing but my mind, my dusty old notes, and the help of a stranger I'd never met.

A small, fierce warmth spread through my chest, chasing away the chill that had settled in my bones. It wasn't the fluttering, desperate hope I used to feel for a scrap of Damian's affection. This was different. It was solid. It was pride. For five long years, I had believed my worth was tied to my role as Luna, as a mate to a powerful Alpha. I had let my own skills, my own intelligence, atrophy in the shadow of his throne. But in the darkness of his betrayal, I was rediscovering a strength I had forgotten I possessed.

The thought was intoxicating, a heady rush of power. Leaving him wasn't just an escape from pain anymore. It was a step towards a future where I could be more than just an accessory to a great man. I could be a protector, a provider, a strategist. I could be whole on my own. For the first time, the idea of a life without Damian wasn't a terrifying void, but a vast, open field of possibility. I could not only survive, but thrive.

A fragile, invisible thread, spun from mutual, anonymous respect, now connected my prison to the outside world.

I pressed send before I could second-guess myself, the soft click of the trackpad sealing the connection.