The Genetic Bride: Alpha's Obsession

Chapter 9: Welcome Home, My Love

SEBASTIAN

I followed my father into his private study immediately after our family dinner concluded. I could instantly sense the heavy, protective weight pressing on his mind, and I fully intended to address it.

My parents knew the dark truth of what I had done. By playing along with the lie of Bella's miraculous recovery, my father now bore a fraction of the staggering guilt I carried every single day.

He didn't look up when the heavy oak door clicked shut behind me. Standing by the towering arched windows, he quietly set down his glass of aged whiskey, his arms folded tightly behind his back as he stared out into the dark estate grounds.

“How is she doing, Sebastian?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“She’s adjusting remarkably well,” I replied, walking over to the leather sofa and taking a seat.

“I can see that,” he murmured, finally turning around. His expression was calm, but a sharp, calculating glint passed through his watchful eyes. “She acts exactly like the old Bella.”

I knew my father well. He was a meticulous ruler possessed of incredibly keen senses and lethal instincts—traits I had directly inherited from him. I knew he was quietly probing for fractures, analyzing my behavior just as intensely as I had scrutinized Bella the morning she first opened her eyes.

Even with Callum’s exhaustive scientific data backing the success of Project Genesis, a small, paranoid part of me still struggled to fully accept the miracle.

My father navigated the room with commanding, heavy steps, then settled into the high-backed leather chair behind his mahogany desk.

“Is there any realistic chance of a complication?” he asked, his tone turning dead serious.

The question was entirely expected, yet it still made a suffocating tightness seize my chest. I didn’t answer immediately.

He locked his gaze onto mine, refusing to let me look away. “The procedure… Callum’s work. Is it completely stable?”

I nodded slowly, my voice firm. “Yes. There are absolutely no signs of cellular rejection and no neurological irregularities. Her cloned body is physically stronger than our initial baseline models predicted. She remembers exactly what she was engineered to remember.”

“But what if she begins to remember more?”

That was the ultimate, terrifying question that kept me awake at night. Even though Callum had successfully quarantined her traumatic past, leaving only the tailored neuro-mapping that anchored her heart directly to me, the fear of a psychological relapse was a constant shadow. I had already witnessed the quiet moments where she froze, her mind desperately groping for the missing fragments of the timeline she believed she had simply lost to amnesia.

I met my father's piercing stare head-on. “The procedure was executed flawlessly. If something goes wrong, I will handle the consequences myself.”

A heavy silence stretched between us.

“Sebastian,” my father spoke again, letting out a quiet, weathered sigh. “You risked everything to bring her back from the dead, and I will no longer question the methods you used to do it. But understand this: if that scientific veneer cracks, and she uncovers the absolute horror of what you did to her in the past, it won't just destroy her mind. It will utterly obliterate you. Isabella will hate you, and she will never forgive you.”

I offered no defense because he wasn’t wrong. If that devastating day ever came, I would accept my punishment. I had sworn an oath to myself never to force her compliance or lock her in a cage again. I had caused her immeasurable suffering in my past life, but in this new reality, I would ensure she lived beautifully and safely—even if I was ultimately excluded from her happiness.

Before our conversation could delve any deeper, a sharp knock cut through the room. A trusted pack guard stepped inside briefly, handing my father a folded, wax-sealed intelligence report before bowing and exiting.

My father broke the seal, and scanned the document. As his eyes flew down the page, his heavy brows knitted together in a dark frown.

“We have a critical situation developing in the western region,” he muttered, his expression instantly turning grim.

I stood up from the sofa, my jaw tightening. “Drakemire?”

He nodded. “This is the second security breach notice I’ve received this week. The pack Elders have confirmed rogue movements directly bordering Silverclaw territory. Nothing has escalated to violence yet, but to my senses, it smells like an active rebellion.”

Of course it did. The Silverclaw clan held dominant jurisdiction over Drakemire, a volatile, secluded region of Eldenhart. For generations, our family had ruled the entirety of Eldenhart as the supreme Alphas, maintaining the fragile peace between the human world and supernatural beings with righteousness. But the Silverclaws had always despised our governance, constantly looking for a weakness to exploit. Now, they were finally making their move.

“Someone powerful is backing them from the shadows,” I murmured, my hyper-tuned instincts flaring.

“We won't make a definitive move until I personally survey the territory and assess the threat,” my father declared, his voice echoing with absolute authority.

I looked up at him, my eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “If this turns into an open declaration of war—”

“—It won't,” he cut me off swiftly. “We won't allow it to escalate. I plan to travel to Drakemire myself to demand an emergency meeting with their council.”

I didn't object to his strategy. My father was an incredible Alpha, capable of commanding absolute submission through diplomacy alone. But the suffocating weight in my chest didn't ease. Bella had only been back for a single week, and already, a new threat was knocking at our gates.

Timing was a luxury that had never been kind to us.

“I’m coming with you,” I stated, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

It was time to look the wolves who refused to submit to our bloodline dead in the eye.

Leaving my father’s study, I navigated the quiet, dimly lit corridors of the mansion, intending to return to my own room. But as I passed Bella’s room, I halted. The heavy wooden door wasn’t fully latched; it stood slightly ajar, allowing a soft, warm sliver of golden light to spill across the dark hallway floor.

I paused in my tracks, debating inwardly whether to intrude or not.

In truth, since the night she died, I barely recognized the man I had become. I used to be a ruthless, unyielding Alpha who took what he desired through force and dominance. But now, stripped of my arrogance, there was nothing left of me but an endless, aching need to protect her from myself.

Exhaling a ragged breath, I gently pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

She didn't hear my silent approach. Bella was sitting curled up on the plush window seat, her quiet gaze fixed entirely on the sky outside, watching the full moon.

I didn't utter a word, completely paralyzed by the sight of her. She looked so serene, so utterly peaceful. This wasn't the broken, terrified girl who had once looked at me with fierce defiance and hatred. Her expression was soft, her entire presence radiating a quiet, unburdened innocence.

My gaze dropped to her lips, which were slightly parted as they caught the silver luminescence of the moonlight.

As if sensing my presence, she slowly turned her head, her forest-green eyes locking onto mine.

“Still awake?” I asked softly, stepping fully into the light.

She offered a slow, tired nod. “I couldn't sleep.”

I moved closer, my movements careful and unthreatening. “Is something bothering you, Bella?”

She turned her attention back to the glass. “No. I was just quietly admiring the view.”

I walked over, leaning my shoulder against the wall right beside her vantage point.

“The moon is incredibly bright tonight,” she murmured, her eyes shimmering with genuine admiration.

A pang of bittersweet memory pierced my chest. In her past life, she had always loved the full moon. But for our kind, the full moon was also when the primal mate bond roared to life, demanding completion. I could feel the invisible, magnetic pull of the bond pulsing violently through my veins, but I violently suppressed it. I was a different man now. I had sworn a sacred vow never to claim her body or touch her skin without her absolute, uncoerced consent.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly, keeping my voice level. “This wing of the house always commands the best view of the moon.”

A faint, beautiful smile touched her lips, and she leaned her head gently against the windowpane again.

Unable to resist the gravity of her presence, I sank down onto the window seat right beside her.

Up close, her features were mesmerizing. Her long, soft waves of dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, framing a face that held none of the past trauma I had inflicted upon it. She looked entirely majestic. Beautiful beyond comprehension.

My gaze drifted helplessly back to her lips. I hadn’t intended to stare, but an agonizing longing roared inside my soul, begging me to close the remaining distance between us—just once. Just to feel the electric warmth of her breath against my skin again.

Slowly, deliberately, I leaned in.

Her forest-green eyes tracked my movement, wide and clear, but she didn't flinch. She didn't pull away. She remained perfectly still, her breathing hitching slightly as the space between us dissolved until our lips were barely an inch apart.

The intoxicating scent of her hit my senses, and for a terrifying second, my rationality began to fracture under the madness of my desire. The urge to claim her, to remind her body of who I was, almost won. But the memory of her tears in the storm slammed into my mind like ice water.

I stopped. Instead, I tilted my head slightly, shifting my trajectory, and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss directly against her forehead.

“Goodnight, Bella,” I whispered against her forehead.

‘Welcome home, my love,’ the beast inside my chest roared, but I kept the words locked behind my teeth. There would be a right time for everything.

Pulling back, I stood up and forced myself to walk out of the room without looking back, leaving her sitting alone in the moonlight, her fingers softly touching the exact spot on her forehead where my lips had just been.