Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 92

POV: Seraphina

The first few weeks on Aethelgard were a blur of relentless, back-breaking work. We were building a new world from scratch, and every member of the pack had a role to play. The island's infrastructure was modern and robust, a skeleton of concrete and steel, but it was a home without a heart. We had to breathe life into it, to transform these empty, echoing buildings into a community.

Jax, in his element as a military commander, worked with Rhys to establish the island's defenses. Patrols were set, watchtowers were manned, and the sophisticated security systems Killian had installed were brought online. He turned our small, battered force of Thorne warriors into a disciplined, vigilant army, their grief and anger channeled into a fierce, protective purpose. The safety I had promised my people was forged in the long, sleepless nights of my brother's command.

Meanwhile, I worked with Elias and the elders in the island's command center, a state-of-the-art facility that felt a universe away from my dusty library at the Blackwood manor. We undertook the grim but necessary task of cataloging our losses and assessing our remaining assets. The picture was bleak. Damian's blockade had been ruthlessly effective. Our liquid assets were nearly gone, our trade lines severed. We had the loyalty of our people and the contents of a few hastily packed ships. It was next to nothing.

But I also had the plan. The revolutionary strategy that had captured Killian Vance's attention. I spread the schematics and projections across the large holo-table, and for the first time, I explained the full scope of my ambition to the elders. I showed them how we would not just rebuild, but conquer. How we would use Damian's own arrogance and the greed of his rivals against him, building an economic empire in the shadows of his crumbling alliance. As I spoke, I saw the weary despair in their eyes slowly replaced by a dawning, shocked admiration. They were not just listening to their fallen Alpha's daughter. They were listening to a new kind of leader.

My one sanctuary in this storm of activity was the medical center. Every evening, after the last meeting was concluded and the last logistical problem was solved, I would walk to the pristine, silent facility where my father lay in his cryogenic sleep. The room was always cold, the only sound the soft, rhythmic hum of the stasis pod. I would stand there for an hour, my hand pressed against the cold glass, and I would talk to him. I told him about our new home. I told him about the plan. I told him that his people were safe. And I promised him, again and again, that I would make him proud.

In these quiet moments, I would also turn inward, to the other constant presence in my life. My inner wolf. She was a source of near-limitless energy, her power a cool, clean fire that burned away my exhaustion and sharpened my focus. When I had first woken on the ship, her rage had been a wild, chaotic thing, a reflection of my own. But now, as she watched me work, as she saw the pack slowly, painstakingly beginning to heal, her own fierce spirit began to settle. The wild hatred was still there, a bedrock of our shared soul, but it was no longer a storm. It was becoming a sword—controlled, tempered, and waiting patiently to be used.

I was no longer just a woman driven by grief. I was a queen, and I was learning to wield my power.