Alpha’s Regret: The Lost Luna Returns with a Son

CHAPTER 6

I turned to find Roman staring at me.

It wasn't the look he’d given me in the city. It wasn't jealousy or even guilt. It was awe. It was the look of a man seeing a goddess for the first time and realizing he had spent his whole life worshipping stone.

"You saved him," he whispered. "In ten seconds, you did what five doctors couldn't do in three days."

"I did my job, Roman," I said, my voice cold despite the adrenaline coursing through me. "Now, get me to the lab. I need to sequence this strain before the sun comes up."

He led me to the back of the manor, to a room they had cleared for my equipment. It was a sterile, lonely space. As I began to unpack my microscope and samples, the reality of being back here finally started to settle in. The walls seemed to pulse with memories. This was the wing where he’d first told me he loved me. This was the hall where we’d hidden away from the elders to kiss until our lungs burned.

"Raina."

I didn't turn around. I kept adjusting the focus on the lens. "I told you not to speak to me unless it was about a patient."

"You’re bleeding," he said, his voice closer than I expected.

I looked down. A small nick on my forearm, likely from the boy’s claws during the struggle. It was nothing. A scratch. But Roman was already there, his large, warm hand closing around my wrist.

"Don't," I snapped, trying to pull away.

"Be still," he commanded, and for a second, the Alpha tone worked.

He pulled a sterile wipe from my kit and began to clean the cut. His touch was electric, a searing heat that traveled up my arm and ignited every dormant nerve ending in my body. My wolf, the traitorous b***h, let out a soft, pathetic whimper in the back of my mind.

He was so close I could feel the radiation of his body heat. He smelled of sweat, rain, and that deep, dark cedar that I used to crave like a drug. He finished cleaning the cut, but he didn't let go of my wrist. His thumb brushed against the pulse point there, feeling the frantic, betrayed rhythm of my heart.

"You’ve become something incredible," he murmured, his eyes dropping to my lips. "I knew you were strong, but this... you’re a force of nature, Raina."

"I am a doctor," I whispered, my breath hitching despite my best efforts. "And you are a man who made a choice. Let go of me."

"I made the wrong choice," he rasped, his other hand coming up to cup the side of my neck. His skin was like fire. "I’ve spent every night for three years seeing your face when I closed my eyes. Every time I touch her, I taste ash. I thought I was doing what the pack needed, but I was just a coward."

"You were a traitor," I corrected, my voice trembling. "You broke a fated bond for a census report and a bank account."

"Then punish me," he whispered, leaning in. "Rage at me. Hit me. But don't look at me with that cold, empty stare. It’s killing me, Raina. It’s f*****g killing me."

He pressed closer, pinning me against the lab table. I should have pushed him. I should have slapped him. I should have screamed. But the three years of loneliness, the weight of the secret I was carrying, and the sheer, raw proximity of my mate snapped something inside me.

Our breaths mingled—hot, jagged, and desperate. His scent was everywhere, filling my lungs, erasing the smell of the hospital and the city. For a split second, the gray-blue of his eyes was the only thing in the world.

He leaned down, his lips a fraction of an inch from mine, the tension between us snapping like a live wire. In that heartbeat, I forgot the city. I forgot the pain. I forgot the three years of silence. It felt like the night before the rejection, like we were two halves of a whole, finally clicking back into place.

Then, my hand brushed against the cold, hard edge of my medical bag.

Inside that bag was a photo of Soren.

The memory hit me like a bucket of ice water. I saw my son’s face. I remembered the night I’d huddled in a cold bathroom, realizing I was carrying the heir to a man who didn't want me. I remembered the struggle, the fear, and the way I’d had to be both mother and father while Roman played Alpha with his perfect Luna.

I shoved him. I shoved him with every ounce of strength I had, the sudden movement caught him off guard, and he stumbled back.

"Don't you ever," I hissed, my voice shaking with a fury so cold it made him flinch. "Don't you ever think that a few pretty words and a little heat can undo what you did."

"Raina, I—"

"You didn't just break my heart, Roman," I said, grabbing a scalpel and pointing it at his chest like a warning. "You burned the bridge. You destroyed the girl who loved you. And the woman who’s left? She doesn't have room for you in her life."

I turned back to my microscope, my hands finally steady, my heart encased in ice once more.

"Get out," I said. "I have a virus to kill. And after that, I’m leaving this place for good. Don't touch me again. If you do, I’ll make sure the next thing I intubate is you."

Roman stood in the shadows of the lab for a long time, his breathing heavy, his presence a dark weight in the room. Finally, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

I slumped against the table, the silence of the room screaming in my ears. I was back in the world of wolves, back in the heart of the storm. I had saved a life tonight, but as I looked at the dark forest outside the window, I realized the hardest surgery I had ever performed was still ahead of me.

I had to cut him out of my soul. And this time, I wasn't using anesthesia.