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My Alpha's Regret Novel Cover

My Alpha's Regret

After three years of enduring a cold and loveless marriage, Elara is devastated when her husband, Alpha Thorne, rejects her to claim his fated mate. Forced into exile and stripped of her status, she discovers she is carrying his heir. Elara builds a new life in secret, but destiny intervenes when Thorne tracks her down. Seeing her strength and the child he never knew existed, the regretful Alpha must now fight to earn back her trust.
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Chapter 2

I stood by the window, the weight of my decision pressing down on me like a stormy sky. My hands trembled as I clutched the suitcase, trying to quiet the whirlwind of emotions churning in my chest. Gamma Alex’s voice echoed in my mind from earlier that day, his words steady and sincere. “Amber, you don’t have to stay here. There’s another way, another place where you can start over.”

I had resisted at first. Leaving this pack—my pack—felt like severing a piece of myself. But after today, after everything, I knew staying wasn’t an option anymore. The bond between Damien and me was fraying, hanging on by the thinnest thread, and my wolf no longer protested. She was silent now, resigned.

When I told Alex I’d made up my mind, his face softened in relief. “You’re doing the right thing,” he said, his voice warm with encouragement. “Tell me when you’re ready to leave, and I’ll be there.”

Now, standing in the suffocating quiet of the room I’d once called mine, I began to pack. I moved mechanically, pulling clothes from the drawers and folding them neatly, my hands working while my mind wandered.

The sound of the shower running in the adjoining bathroom filled the silence, a cruel reminder that Damien was just feet away, completely oblivious to the turmoil raging inside me. He didn’t even notice how shattered I’d been when I came home.

When the water stopped, my heart skipped a beat. A few minutes later, Damien emerged, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead. He glanced at me, then at the half-packed suitcase on the bed.

“Amber,” he sighed, rubbing a towel over his hair, “are you seriously doing this?”

I froze, clutching a folded shirt in my hands. “Doing what?” I asked quietly, though my voice trembled with the effort to keep calm.

“This.” He gestured at the suitcase like it was some childish tantrum I was throwing. “Packing. Acting like the world’s ending. You’re being unreasonable.”

Unreasonable. There it was again, that word he seemed to love so much lately. He thought I was overreacting, didn’t he? That everything—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the loss of our pup—could be swept under the rug if I just stopped “being unreasonable.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned away from him, continuing to pack. If he wanted to ignore my pain, fine. I’d let him.

He sighed again, the sound heavy with irritation, and walked over to the bed. “I’m tired, Amber,” he muttered, pulling back the covers. “I’m going to sleep.”

I bit back the angry retort on the tip of my tongue, choosing silence instead. What was the point of arguing? He wouldn’t listen. He never did.

As he settled into bed, his breathing evening out within minutes, I paused, standing over my suitcase. I turned to look at him, my eyes tracing the lines of his face. He looked peaceful in his sleep, like the man I’d fallen in love with years ago. But that man felt like a stranger now, buried under layers of lies and betrayal.

My gaze drifted to the items on the dresser, each one holding a memory of the bond we’d once shared. The bracelet he’d given me after our first fight. The necklace from our first anniversary. The framed photo of us on our wedding day, smiling so brightly it almost hurt to look at now.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. How did we get here? How did the love we built, the life we worked so hard for, crumble so easily?

I thought back to high school, back to the girl I used to be. I was popular back then, surrounded by friends and admirers. Boys in the pack vied for my attention, but my eyes were always drawn to Damien. He was the son of Damien, and every she-wolf in the pack dreamed of being his mate.

But then everything changed. During the coming-of-age ceremony, when everyone was discovering their wolves, I stood there, waiting for mine. And waiting. And waiting.

When it became clear that my wolf wasn’t coming, the pack turned on me. They mocked me, ostracized me, whispered behind my back about how weak I was. I became an outcast overnight.

Except for Damien. He never looked at me with pity or disdain. He stood by me, even as others shunned me. And when we discovered we were mates, it felt like a miracle, like fate had given me a second chance.

We kept our bond quiet at first, not wanting to draw attention. But then the rogues attacked. They came in the dead of night, slaughtering without mercy. Damien’s parents were killed, and just like that, he was thrust into the role of Alpha.

I’ll never forget the way he looked at me that night, his eyes filled with pain and desperation. “I only have you now,” he said, his voice cracking.

And I stayed. Through the grief, the chaos, the rebuilding of the pack, I stayed. Even when my wolf finally emerged—strong and powerful, proving everyone wrong—I didn’t leave his side. Together, we rebuilt the pack, formed the female warrior team, and restored our strength after the devastation.

For years, we were happy. I thought we were unshakable.

But then I got pregnant, and everything changed.

It was during a routine prenatal check-up at the pack clinic that he received the mind link. He left without explanation, his face pale and tense. Later, I found out why. Serena had returned.

The Beta’s daughter. The girl who’d been away for years, who always had a way of commanding attention. She swept back into the pack like she owned the place, and Damien—my mate—started slipping away from me.

I tried to ignore it at first, tried to hold on to the man I thought I knew. But today, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

As I stared at Damien’s sleeping face, the anger and sadness twisted inside me. My wolf stirred weakly, her voice whispering in my mind. “It’s time to go.”

And she was right.

I turned back to my suitcase, packing the last of my belongings. Each item I placed inside felt like a step closer to freedom, to starting over.

By the time I finished, the room felt emptier, colder. I stood by the door, one last glance at Damien’s sleeping form. My heart ached, but it was a distant ache, dulled by everything that had happened.

“I’m done,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

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