Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 4

POV: Damian

The call from Marcus Thorne came less than an hour later. My Beta, Elias, patched him through to my office, his face a grim, impassive mask. Marcus's voice exploded from the speakerphone, a torrent of predictable rage and empty threats.-

I listened patiently, my own anger a cold, controlled flame. Sylvie was sitting on the plush sofa in the corner, looking pale and concerned, which only stoked my irritation at Marcus. Did he not understand what was at stake? Sylvie's pack, the Moonstone, had been a crucial buffer on our northern border. Their sudden destruction left us dangerously vulnerable. Taking her in, offering her comfort and protection, was a political necessity. It was a strategic move to gauge the enemy's strength and show that Blackwood protects its allies.

Seraphina, and by extension her father, should have understood that. An Alpha's mate should see the bigger picture. Instead, they were letting petty jealousy and emotion cloud their judgment, acting like a common, slighted couple.

"Are you finished, Marcus?" I asked when he finally paused for breath. "I am your Alpha. Seraphina is my mate and the Luna of this pack. Her duty is to the pack first. Your duty is to honor the alliance you swore to me. This emotional outburst is unbecoming and foolish. Do not challenge my authority again."

I disconnected the call before he could respond.

"Damian, maybe this is too much," Sylvie said, moving to my side, her hand resting tentatively on my shoulder. "I don't want to cause trouble between you and your mate."

"It's not you, Sylvie. It's her father's pride," I said, placing my hand over hers. Her touch was soothing, simple. "He's always been overprotective. He needs to be reminded of his place. And so, it seems, does his daughter."

This display of defiance from the Thorne family needed to be quashed, and quickly. I would not have my authority undermined, not when the pack was facing an external threat. Seraphina's coldness, her public display of displeasure at breakfast, was a distraction I would not tolerate. This was the only way to bring her back in line.

"It is a reminder of who holds the power in this alliance," I cut him off. "They are a vassal pack. It's time they were reminded of that."

My gaze drifted to the silver-framed photo on my desk. It was from our mating ceremony. Seraphina was smiling, her eyes bright with a love and adoration that had long since vanished. A flicker of something—regret? loss?—stirred in my chest. I remembered that day, the fierce pride I felt. But the woman in that photo was not the cold, defiant woman who had walked out on me this morning. I had to manage the Luna I had now, not the girl I had mated.

This wasn't cruelty. It was control. It was necessary. I turned the photograph face down on the desk with a sharp rap of my knuckles.

He picked up a heavy silver letter opener, turning it over and over in his hand, the sharp point cool against his skin.