Alpha's Regret: Losing His True Mate

Elodie's POV ~

My body felt like it was tearing apart. The sound that gutted me wasn't from the wound. it was from the soft echo of Calhoun's footsteps fading, his tall frame disappearing from sight without even a glance back as he carried Carmela away.

Just like that. He was gone.

I bit down so hard on my lip that I tasted blood, but it still couldn't stop the sob that broke through me. The workers nearby were whispering, their eyes darting at me in pity, but I couldn't bear to look at them. I hated their stares, hated the way they reminded me how low I'd fallen. How stupid I've been all these years. My throat burned, and before I could stop it, tears came in waves.

I wiped at my face with my sleeve, gasping, and staggered to the wall where the broom and mop leaned. My hands shook violently as I grabbed them, the wooden handle digging into my palm. Do something. Move. Just move. If I cleaned, maybe I wouldn't collapse.

I forced myself forward, bent down with the mop in one hand, broom in the other, scrubbing at the mess through blurred eyes. My body was trembling, dizziness clawing at my head until I swore the ground was swaying beneath me. I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't breathe right.

"Elodie, stop-" a gentle voice broke through.

One coworker put an arm around me, while another picked up the broom.

"Let us help you," one of them said softly, her voice shaking with guilt. She knelt, pushing the mop away and reaching for me.

"This is unfair," one of the women whispered. "I passed by earlier and saw her carrying that broth. The steam was rising off it. If it wasn't boiling hot, it wouldn't have burned her skin like that."

I stiffened, my chest heaving, but I kept moving.

Another voice cut in, angrier. "Carmela is a troublemaker. Even if it wasn't hot, why would she throw it like that? That wasn't an accident. That was. that was almost like a murder attempt! She could've scarred Elodie's face forever or broken her nose."

I flinched. My stomach turned.

Then came another sigh. "What can we say? Alpha Calhoun no longer has a mind of his own. He's a puppet now, dancing to Carmela's tune. She's the real ruler of this place. And we all know it, if any of us so much as step on her feet, we'll pay dearly. Pity poor Elodie. She's the one Carmela always picks on."

Their words sliced through me deeper than the burn ever could.

"Thank you," I whispered.

She gave me a sad smile, eyes soft with sympathy, and nodded. "Come. Let's get you out of here."

She led me past the stares, past the whispers, past the wreckage of my pride.

But as soon as I stepped out of the room, memories hit me.

I remembered the day we'd been at that negotiation table, the neighboring pack trying to tear apart our contract. They accused me, pointed their fingers, tried to humiliate me in front of everyone. My hands had shaken, my words caught in my throat, but before I could crumble, Calhoun had slammed his hand against the table, his eyes blazing.

"Touch her name again, and I'll end this deal," he had growled, his voice like thunder. "You fault her, you fault me. Do you want war? Then keep testing me."

The entire room had gone silent. Even the opposing Alpha had paled. And Calhoun. Calhoun had turned his face toward me, his expression unreadable but his presence wrapping around me like armor.

That day, he stood beside me. Unshaken. Defiant. Protecting me with a ferocity that had made my heart soar.

I had been so stupidly excited, so sure it meant something. That maybe. just maybe. he was beginning to see me. To care.

And now.now I could barely breathe through the ache of knowing how wrong I had been.

How very, very stupid I must have been.

All he did was protect his property, not me. It was never love.

I don't know what hurt more-that Carmela spit out one baseless lie with that venomous tongue of hers, or that Calhoun didn't even blink before believing her. Not a single question. Not even a flicker of doubt. He just looked at me.looked through me and passed judgment as though I was already guilty.

My heart shattered right there.

Didn't I deserve a little trust? Just once? Even half of what he gave Carmela so freely?

Or was right and wrong meaningless in his world, as long as it pleased her?

By the time my kind coworker slipped an arm around me and led me out of the building, I was nothing more than a hollow shell. I didn't even remember walking out the doors, it was like my body moved while my soul stayed behind.

She hailed an Uber for me, her voice soft, her touch careful as if I would crumble if she held me too tightly. When the car arrived, she paid the fare herself and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Take good care of yourself, Elodie," she whispered, her eyes heavy with sympathy I couldn't bear to accept.

I gave her a weak nod, my throat too raw to form words, and slipped into the backseat.

When we pulled up to my apartment, I stumbled out, clutching my bag like it was the only thing tethering me. I left it by the door the second I got inside, too drained to care, and headed straight to the shower.

Water hit my skin, but it wasn't soothing. It was sharp, too sharp, stinging the burns and bruises Carmela had left me with.

By the time I stepped out, I was trembling, my bathrobe clinging to my damp skin. I didn't care that my hair was dripping, that my bed would get soaked-I just wanted to collapse, to sink into the sheets and disappear.

But just as I was about to crawl into bed, my phone started ringing.

My heart sank straight into my stomach when I saw the caller ID.

Calhoun.

For a second, my trembling fingers hovered above the screen, ready to swipe and answer, desperate to hear his voice even if it was dismissive. But before I could, the call ended.

A hollow silence followed, and then a vibration. My chest tightened when I saw the message pop up on my screen: "Bring me ibuprofen and warm milk with honey. Be fast."

Disappointment curled in my belly so sharp it made me nauseous. But without thinking, like the trained fool I had become, I slipped into another wear, tied my hair up with trembling hands, and left my apartment. My feet carried me on autopilot, dragging me toward the errand as if my own body refused to rebel against him.

When I finally reached Calhoun's penthouse, I wasn't prepared. A wave of nausea slammed into me the moment I stepped inside before shock could even register.

Everything was different.

The cold, black interior that had once mirrored him, his taste, his darkness-gone. The little bonsai tree I had planted with his grandfather before the old man passed. gone. In its place stood a sunflower, its bright yellow petals mocking me. Carmela. Of course.

I froze like a fool in the doorway, my eyes stinging as I took in the rest. Expensive handbags and shoes scattered at every corner, perfumes lining the glass tables, soft feminine colors layered over what used to be his.

My heart dropped so violently.

The sound of the door unlocking startled me. Calhoun appeared. He didn't even spare me a greeting. Without a word, he plucked the bag from my hand, rummaging through it. Only when he had confirmed everything was there did he finally bother to lift his gaze to my face.

"Shit," he muttered, his brow furrowing. "Your injuries look terrible. Have you had them treated?"

I swallowed hard. Slowly, I shook my head.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Elodie. Carmela's been having her mood swings, like she always does. It wasn't because she wanted to hurt you, alright? She's just. she's just having a rough day. Make sure you get those wounds taken care of. If you need a few days off, I'll sign the form."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. "That won't be necessary, Alpha Calhoun. By the end of the month-"

"Listen to me," he cut in sharply. "I'm only concerned because you need to be strong. You'll be putting together Carmela's welcome back party, and I want it perfect."

His words lodged in my throat. I almost choked on them. My lips parted, but no sound came out. My knees felt weak. I took a step back, needing air.

He noticed. His eyes narrowed as if he was about to speak again, but then a soft, feigned whimper broke the silence.

"Cal."

Carmela stood leaning against the bedroom door, her piercing gaze locked on me. In that instant, her face twisted-pure venom flashing in her eyes. But the second Calhoun turned toward her, she shifted. Her expression melted into one of fragility, as if she'd break apart at the smallest touch.

"Has she brought the stuff?" she asked. "I'm feeling pain all over my body, Cal. I just. I want cuddles. And massages."

My stomach lurched.

His face softened instantly. He nodded, his voice dropping gentle. "Don't hurt your feet. Go lay on the bed. I'll get the maids to heat the milk, then I'll come join you. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, smiling sweetly.

I stood there, silent. My chest burned. My eyes stung so badly I thought they'd burst. Watching the way his entire being softened for her-while all I ever got was indifference. I remembered the night I almost broke a tooth from clenching down against the stress, the days I tripped in his presence and he hadn't even looked twice. And when I fainted from exhaustion, rushed into the ER-how had he reacted?

He signed my leave form. That was all.

No visit. No call. No concern.

But Carmela? A whimper was all it took to melt him.

When he left with her, I felt my throat swell. A single tear slipped free before I could stop it. I turned and walked out, my legs carrying me like they didn't belong to me anymore. A bitter ache rose in my chest. By the time I stepped outside, I tilted my head back to the sky.

And just one tear fell.