The Luna He Rejected: An Alpha's Regret

Chapter 6

Seraphine’s POV

I was barely halfway through the front door when Dani looked up from the sofa and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Oh no.”

I immediately stopped walking. “What?”

“You’ve been crying.”

My eyebrows shot up. “I have not.”

“You absolutely have.”

I sighed and kicked the door shut behind me. Dani pointed dramatically at my face as though she was presenting evidence for a murder trial.

“Kevin. Look at her.”

Kevin glanced up from the newspaper in his lap. The moment his eyes landed on me, his expression changed, just enough for me to know he had noticed too. Great.

“What happened?”

That was the unfortunate thing about people who genuinely cared about you. They noticed everything.

I stood there for a moment, still smelling faintly of saltwater, my damp clothes sticking uncomfortably to my skin while the weight of the evening sat heavily on my chest. Part of me considered lying. Another part knew it would be pointless.

Instead, I headed for the kitchen.

As expected, Dani followed immediately.

Kevin wasn't far behind.

Neither of them said anything. They simply waited.

Dani filled a mug with tea and placed it in front of me. I wrapped both hands around it, welcoming the warmth against my cold fingers. For a few seconds, nobody spoke.

Then I finally broke the silence.

“Caden called.”

The silence that followed was immediate. Kevin’s jaw tightened. Dani’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline.

“He what?”

I stared down at my tea. “He called twice.”

They didn’t interrupt as I told them everything—the beach, the conversation, the second call, the pregnancy. When I reached the part where Isolde was already four months along, Dani made a low, murderous sound.

“Four months.”

I nodded. “Four months.”

Dani stood up so abruptly that her chair scraped across the floor. “That absolute—” She stopped herself, looked at me, then at Kevin, and sat back down, barely containing her anger.

Kevin rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Four months,” he echoed quietly.

“It explains a lot,” I said softly.

“No,” Dani snapped. “Do not do that.”

“What?”

“Do not sit there being reasonable about this.” Her voice rose with every word.

"You were sick, Seraphine. You were alone. You were trying to save your marriage while he was apparently busy getting another woman pregnant."

The words hit differently when someone else said them out loud.

I'd known all of that already.

Yet hearing it from Dani somehow made it feel worse.

Kevin was quiet for a long moment before he spoke. “You did the right thing by leaving. If that’s true, then you should stop questioning it.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. He was right. Part of me had been questioning it, not because I wanted Caden back, but because walking away from four years of your life felt a little like failure no matter how justified it was.

“You gave him every opportunity,” Kevin added, reading the doubt on my face. “He made his choice.”

And he had. Over and over again. Moving Isolde into my room. Ignoring me while I was sick. Telling me I was in her place. Signing the divorce papers before I even walked into the room. None of it had been an accident.

The realization should have made me angry. Instead, I just felt exhausted.

Dani reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “What are you thinking?”

I stared at our joined hands for a moment. “I don’t think I have enough energy left to hate him anymore.”

The admission surprised even me, but once I said it, I knew it was true. The anger had burned out somewhere on the road between Ironmoor and Millhaven. All that remained was exhaustion, grief, and the two tiny lives growing inside me.

“I’m tired of thinking about him,” I admitted. “Every decision I made for years somehow came back to Caden. Every choice, every plan, every day.” My hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach. “I don’t want my future to be about him anymore.”

Dani’s expression softened. Kevin nodded. “Good.”

“Good?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Because you’ve got more important things to worry about now.”

“Such as?”

“The fact that you’re carrying two future disasters,” he said with a small smile.

Despite everything, I laughed. The sound surprised me.

“There,” Kevin said triumphantly. “Do that more often.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I hate both of you.”

“No you don’t,” Dani teased.

“No,” I admitted, smiling despite myself. “I really don’t.”

—---------------------------

Sleep avoided me again that night. This time it wasn’t entirely because of Caden. My mind kept circling the future, the practical things I could actually control. Eventually I gave up pretending I might fall asleep, climbed out of bed, and found a notebook in my bag. I sat at the small desk near the window and started making lists: doctor appointments, housing, savings… and then I stopped at *work*.

The word lingered on the page. Before I became Luna, I had gone to university. I had a degree, a good one. I’d spent years studying, only to abandon it all when I stepped into the Ironmoor Pack and became someone’s wife. I hadn’t thought about that version of myself in a long time—the one who wanted a career, who made plans that didn’t revolve around pack functions and Luna duties.

A knock sounded on the open door. I looked up.

Kevin stood there, looking annoyingly awake for two in the morning.

"You know normal people sleep at this hour, right?"

I glanced at the notebook.

"I can't."

His gaze followed mine.

"You thinking about work?"

I nodded.

"Maybe."

To my surprise, he smiled.

"Good."

I frowned.

"Good?"

"Yeah."

He stepped into the room.

"You're smart, Sera."

I immediately narrowed my eyes.

"That sounded suspiciously sincere."

"It was."

"Gross."

Kevin ignored me.

"It'd be a waste not to use that brain of yours."

I looked back down at the notebook.

"You make it sound simple."

"It kind of is."

"It really isn't."

He shrugged.

"Maybe not. Doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

I hated when he made sense.

"The primary school's looking for staff," he added. "One of Dani's customers works there."

My eyes lifted.

"A school?"

"You're good with people."

"I'm pregnant and emotionally unstable."

"You'll fit right in."

I laughed despite myself.

Kevin grinned.

"Apply."

The idea settled somewhere inside me.

For the first time in weeks, the future didn't feel entirely empty.

The next morning, I found Kevin making breakfast again.

“You know,” I said, sliding into a chair, “most people don’t adopt random women they find on the side of the road.”

“I didn’t adopt you.”

“You kind of did.”

“I absolutely did not.”

I smiled. “Kevin… why are you doing all this? The room, the help, the support?”

He looked genuinely confused for a second. “Sera. You’re my person.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’ve known each other forever. I care about you.”

There were no conditions, no expectations. Just simple, steady care. My throat tightened unexpectedly. Kevin noticed but kindly pretended he hadn’t.

—

Six weeks later, I got the job.

I was so nervous before the interview that I nearly talked myself out of attending three separate times.

Dani practically shoved me out the door.

Kevin threatened to drive me there himself if I changed my mind.

Looking back, I'm glad they did.

The school hired me two days later.

I still remember standing in the kitchen staring at the acceptance email while Dani screamed loudly enough to wake half the town.

The children quickly taught me that seven-year-olds were tiny agents of chaos disguised as human beings.

The first week exhausted me. The second week made me smile. By the third week, I was genuinely excited to go to work.

I didn’t have to deal with pack politics or people’s expectations. There was no title.

Just lesson plans and messy handwritings.

For the first time in years, I had something that belonged entirely to me.

And it felt amazing.

—----------

The years passed faster than I expected, the way they always do when you’re actually living your life.

The twins arrived during a stormy October night. Rain hammered against the hospital windows, the power flickered, Dani threatened three different nurses, and Kevin looked like he might pass out. Raven Cole, who had driven me there when labor started, spent the night calmly pretending everything was fine.

It was not fine.

Luna arrived first—quiet and alert, watching the world with unnervingly focused dark eyes. Four minutes later, Emery came screaming his opinion about everything at the top of his lungs.

Dani cried. Kevin nearly sank to the floor. And when the nurses placed my babies in my arms, something deep and steady settled inside me.

—-----------

Four years later.

Life looked very different.

My mornings now consisted of chasing two energetic children around the house while trying to convince them that shoes were not optional.

Luna was thoughtful, observant, and far too smart for her own good.

Emery approached every single day like a personal challenge from the universe.

I loved them more than life itself.

Which was fortunate because they were exhausting.

That particular morning, I stood in my classroom reviewing attendance sheets while twenty-three children tried to convince each other that arithmetic was actual torture. The visiting pack children were due to arrive that morning, so I made a note to update the seating plan.

Another teacher appeared in the doorway. “Seraphine? The visiting Alpha is here.”

I nodded. “Alright.”

Nothing unusual. Parents and pack representatives visited all the time.

I followed her outside. The courtyard was already filling with children, teachers, and parents. I stepped through the front doors and stopped dead.

Standing across the courtyard was Caden Ashford.

For one terrible second, neither of us moved. Four years had changed him. He looked broader, harder, older, with new lines around his eyes. But it was unmistakably him.

His gaze locked onto mine and froze.

Beside him stood Isolde. Behind them was a young boy—four years old. The age was impossible to ignore.

Years of professionalism kicked in immediately.

I crossed the space between us and offered the same polite smile I gave every parent. “Welcome to Millhaven Primary. My name is Seraphine Voss. I’m the lead teacher responsible for the visiting students during their stay.”

Caden stared at me. Something raw, pain?, shock?, regret?, flashed across his face. I didn’t care enough to examine it.

“Sera,” he said, his voice rough.

The familiarity of my old name felt wrong now, like a stranger using a nickname that no longer fit.

“We need to talk.”

I met his eyes calmly. “No.”

His face tightened. “Sera—”

“You lost the right to that conversation four years ago.”

Then I turned toward the children, toward my classroom, toward the life I had built without him, and walked away, leaving him exactly where he belonged.

In the past.