The Alpha's Regret

Chrome and Memories

The next morning came too soon and not soon enough. I'd finally dozed off around dawn, only to be jolted awake by the smell of bacon and the sound of my mother's voice drifting up from the kitchen.

I showered quickly, pulling on jeans and a soft sweater before heading downstairs. Mom was at the stove, spatula in hand, looking more rested than she had yesterday. Ronan sat at the table with a plate piled high with food, scrolling through his phone.

"There she is," Mom said, her smile brightening when she saw me. "Hungry? I made enough for an army."

"Just coffee, thanks." My stomach was too knotted to handle food.

She gave me a look that said she knew I was lying, but she poured me a cup without comment. I took it gratefully, letting the heat seep into my cold hands.

"I'm heading back to the hospital after breakfast," Mom said. "Your father's being transferred to a regular room today. The doctors want to talk about physical therapy."

"That's good news," I said. "Means he's improving."

"Yes, thank God." She flipped a pancake with practiced ease. "You should come with me. He'd love to see you again."

"I will. I just need to..." I trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence. Need to what? Hide from the memories? Avoid running into Skyler again? Figure out how to breathe in a town that felt like it was suffocating me?

"There's no rush," Mom said gently. "Take your time settling in."

Ronan looked up from his phone. "You should stop by Chrome & Fang later. The guys would love to see you."

Chrome & Fang Customs. The motorcycle shop that served as the pack's primary business and the MC's clubhouse. The place where Skyler spent most of his time when he wasn't patrolling or enforcing.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said quickly.

"Why not? You used to hang out there all the time when you were younger." Ronan's expression was carefully neutral, but I could see the calculation behind his eyes. He was testing me, seeing how I'd react.

"That was a long time ago."

"Marcus was asking about you yesterday," he continued, ignoring my deflection. "Said he'd like to see you before you leave. He's at the shop most afternoons."

Alpha Marcus. I couldn't avoid him forever. As a pack member—even one who'd been absent for five years—I owed him the courtesy of checking in.

"Fine," I said. "I'll stop by this afternoon."

"Want me to come with you?" Ronan offered.

"No." The word came out sharper than I intended. "I mean... I can handle it. I'm not a child."

Something flickered across his face—understanding, maybe, or pity. "Never said you were, little bird."

After breakfast, Mom left for the hospital, promising to call if there was any news. Ronan disappeared into his room for a work call, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a kitchen full of memories I didn't want to examine too closely.

I should have gone to the hospital. Should have spent the day at my father's bedside like a good daughter. But the thought of those sterile white walls, of potentially running into Skyler again, made my chest tight.

Instead, I found myself in the backyard, standing at the edge of the forest that bordered our property. This was where I'd had my first shift, where my father had taught me to embrace my wolf instead of fear her.

My wolf stirred, sensing my thoughts.

*Run*, she urged. *We need to run.*

She was right. I was wound too tight, emotions churning just beneath my carefully maintained surface. A run would help. Out here in the woods, away from prying eyes and painful memories, I could let go of the mask I wore.

I stripped quickly, folding my clothes and leaving them in a neat pile. The transformation came easier now than it had when I was young—a fluid shift from human to wolf that took only seconds.

Ember emerged with a pleased rumble, shaking out her russet fur. She was smaller than most pack wolves, built for speed rather than power, but what she lacked in size she made up for in agility.

We ran.

The forest opened up before us, familiar trails calling us deeper into the territory. Ember's joy was infectious, pulling a lightness from me that I hadn't felt in days. This was freedom. This was home, in a way that the house and the town could never be.

We ran until my wolf's lungs burned, until the tangled knot in my chest began to loosen. We ran until—

A howl split the air.

Ember froze mid-stride, ears pricking forward. I knew that howl. Heard heard it countless times in my dreams, a sound that haunted me even in waking.

Phantom. Skyler's wolf.

Another howl answered the first, closer this time. And another. The pack was on patrol, running the borders as they did every day. And I'd run straight into their path.

*Turn back*, I urged Ember. *Now.*

But it was too late.

A massive black wolf emerged from the trees ahead, ice-blue eyes locking onto us with an intensity that made my wolf whimper. Phantom. Even in wolf form, Skyler's presence was overwhelming, commanding, impossible to ignore.

He went utterly still when he saw us. For a moment, neither of us moved. The forest seemed to hold its breath.

Then Phantom moved. Not toward us—not yet—but circling slowly, his gaze never leaving Ember. His wolf was assessing, cautious, as if he couldn't quite believe we were real.

Ember's instinct was to submit, to roll over and bare her throat to the dominant male. To our mate.

I fought against it, forcing her to hold her ground. We weren't doing this. We weren't falling back into old patterns, old hurts.

Phantom stopped circling. He sat, a silent request. An offering of peace.

Then, slowly, he lowered himself to the ground. Laid his massive head on his paws. And whimpered.

The sound broke something in me. This fierce, powerful wolf—feared by enemies and pack members alike—was making himself small. Vulnerable. For us.

Ember took a hesitant step forward.

*No*, I told her desperately. *We're leaving.*

But my wolf wasn't listening anymore. She crept closer to Phantom, her body language submissive but curious. When she was close enough, she pressed her muzzle against his, a gentle greeting that wolves used to comfort each other.

Phantom's whimper turned into a low, rumbling sound—not quite a growl, but something deeper. More primal.

*Mine*, his wolf seemed to say. *Finally. Mine.*

And for just a moment, I let myself believe it.

For just a moment, I forgot about the rejection, about the pain, about the five years I'd spent building walls. I let Ember press against Phantom's larger form, let her breathe in his scent, let her feel the bond that still connected us like a golden thread.

Then reality crashed back in.

What was I doing? This changed nothing. Skyler's wolf might recognize me, might want me, but the man had rejected our bond. Had called me a sister and walked away.

Pretty wolf behavior didn't erase that.

I pulled Ember back, forcing her to retreat. Phantom's eyes widened—almost human in their expression of grief. He rose to his feet, taking a step toward us, but I wouldn't let Ember stay.

We ran.

This time, Phantom followed.

He didn't try to catch us—could have easily, given his size and speed—but he followed at a distance, keeping us in sight. A guardian. A protector.

Or a prisoner, depending on how you looked at it.

I led Ember back toward the house, toward safety and clothes and the ability to face this as a human rather than a wolf. Phantom stopped at the tree line, watching as I shifted back and hurriedly dressed.

When I looked back, he was still there. A massive black shadow among the trees, ice-blue eyes gleaming in the dappled sunlight.

Then he shifted.

I should have looked away. Should have given him privacy. But I was rooted to the spot, unable to move as Skyler's human form emerged.

He was naked, all lean muscle and scarred skin, absolutely breathtaking and utterly devastating. He made no move to cover himself, seemingly unconcerned with his nudity in a way that only someone who'd grown up shifting could be.

"Wren." My name was a plea. A prayer.

"Don't," I said, my voice shaking. "Just... don't."

"I wasn't following you." The words came out rushed. "We were on patrol. I didn't know you'd be out here. But when Phantom caught your scent..." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "He wouldn't let me turn away. I tried. God, I tried. But he—"

"I don't care." I backed toward the house. "Your wolf, your problems. Not mine."

"Wren, please—"

"Stay away from me, Skyler." I turned and walked away, refusing to run even though every instinct screamed at me to flee. "I meant what I said. Whatever you want from me, you're not going to get it."

I made it inside before the tears came. Made it to my room, closed the door, and finally let myself shatter.

Because seeing him like that—vulnerable, desperate, his wolf whimpering at my feet—had reminded me of everything I'd lost. Everything I still wanted, despite knowing I shouldn't.

The bond pulsed in my chest, a constant reminder that no matter how far I ran, no matter how many walls I built, some part of me would always belong to Skyler Voss.

And I hated myself for it.