Filed to story: Alpha’s Regret After His Pregnant Luna’s Death (Evelyn & Declan)
“What? Are you trying to die here?” she blurted out, her shock quickly turning into scolding. “What’s wrong with you?”
I shot her a cold glance, the words sticking in my throat, too heavy to form into anything sharp. I turned, too drained to deal with her, and tried to shut the door.
But Margaret wasn’t done. She barged in, furious. “What, you’re mute now? Can’t you hear me talking to you?”
I didn’t respond. My throat burned with every word, but I finally rasped, “What do you want?”
Margaret eyed me suspiciously, the concern in her voice barely masking her irritation. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, like I was some problem to be solved.
I didn’t answer. I just stared at her, my gaze flat, my expression emotionless. I didn’t need to speak. My silence was enough to make her uneasy. I could feel it.
For a moment, Margaret’s face faltered, but she quickly steeled herself. “Today’s your grandmother’s memorial,” she said, her tone flat. Then, without another word, she stormed off.
The weight of her words hit me like a slap. The grief that I’d buried so deep inside me began to rise, forcing its way to the surface, choking me. I swallowed hard, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, realizing I’d bitten my tongue.
I bowed my head, my heart tightening as the grief flooded in. It was all too much, too raw, too soon. I’d known my grandmother had passed, but hearing it like that… like she was nothing more than an event to Margaret, a scheduling conflict, made it all too real.
The world seemed to close in on me as I changed into plain black clothes. The grief, the frustration, the years of pain, it all swirled together. I didn’t have the energy to process it all, but I knew I had to move forward. I couldn’t be stuck in this.
Guided by muscle memory, I made my way to the old house behind the villa. Each step felt like I was walking further away from everything I’d ever known. The house that had once been full of warmth now felt like a tomb. The door creaked as I entered, and I felt the weight of everything I’d lost bearing down on me.
But I was here now. For her, for my grandmother.
I stood in the ancestral hall, staring up at kate’s portrait. Her face was serene and kind. My heart twisted, a sharp pain cutting through me, like a jagged claw scraping across my chest.
The loss hit me with full force now, staring at her image, it finally sank in. I was truly alone. kate was gone, and I had no one left to turn to.
No one but myself.
A voice broke through my reverie. It was Sophia. Her voice, dripping with mockery, cut through the air. “Evelyn, if you hadn’t been so reckless, would Grandma have died?”
Evelyn’s POV
I turned to find her standing there behind me, a smirk playing on her lips, her eyes gleaming with disdain. My vision blurred, my muscles tensed. How dare she?
My eyes, already glowing with the faintest hint of golden with my wolf-narrowed, my breath quickening. I could feel it. The rage. The beast clawing at my skin, trying to tear its way free.
Sophia was the one who had let kate die, letting her believe I was guilty.
Whereas It was her, not me.
She was the reason my grandma died.
I took a step forward, my body trembling with the fury I barely contained. “Did you do it on purpose? Why? What did grandma ever do to you?” My voice was raw, jagged like a howl trying to break free.
Before she could react, I lunged, my fingers gripping her collar in a flash of anger. My wolf was hungry for justice, for retribution. My eyes locked onto hers, my ashen face a mask of fury.
Sophia froze, her eyes wide in terror. She wasn’t expecting this. This wasn’t the calm, controlled Evelyn she’d known. This was a broken, ferocious creature, an animal desperate for a reason to lash out, to make someone pay for kate’s death.
I clenched my teeth, the urge to rip into her rising like an uncontrollable tide. I could feel the power in my veins, my wolf wanting to tear her apart for what she’d done. But then, like a crash, the reality hit me. I staggered back, releasing my grip, my legs unsteady as a flood of exhaustion and helplessness washed over me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the grief from overwhelming me.
Kate is gone.
And Sophia? She wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth the risk of losing everything for a moment of vengeance.
I looked at her, my chest tightening. Lana needed me. If I got myself thrown back in prison, she’d be left with nothing-no mother, no one to care for her.
Sophia was going to pay, but Lana couldn’t lose her mother.
I gasped for breath, feeling the weight of it all. Sophia stumbled back, clutching her throat, her eyes wide with fear, as she put distance between us.
She gulped in desperate breaths, her words still sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “Evelyn, you don’t even deserve to exist.”
I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh, the sound jagged in my throat. I couldn’t help it. What a joke I’ve been. All my kindness, my care, all wasted on people who didn’t deserve it.
I turned away, my gaze empty, and walked toward the hall. My steps were light, almost silent, but hollow.
“Where’s Sophia?” Margaret’s voice cut through the quiet as I reached the hall, her eyes searching past me, expecting her precious daughter to be close by.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I pressed my lips together, keeping silent as I stood before Kate’s portrait. My body felt rigid, like it didn’t belong to me anymore.
I stared at the painting, the soft, sad lines of her face. Her gentle eyes, full of love, love I never deserved. I stood there, expressionless, my mind a storm.
Margaret’s disapproval was palpable. I could almost feel it radiating off her like a bitter cloud. She furrowed her brows, glancing at me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t solve.
“What’s with that attitude?” Her gaze lingered on me, studying my posture, her disappointment obvious.
She had once told me that between her two daughters, it was always Sophia who’d been the “thoughtful” one, the “warm” one. She had at that time also said she wished Sophia was her real daughter.
I ignored her, my focus never wavering from Kate’s portrait. The room was quiet again, and I let myself feel the weight of kate’s absence.
I bowed deeply, my chest tight with emotions I couldn’t articulate.
Grandma, I’m so sorry. You suffered because of me, and I couldn’t even be there when you passed. You deserved more.
As I straightened up, Sophia entered the room, her face back to its usual smirk.
Margaret didn’t even let the silence linger. “Evelyn, your grandmother left an inheritance before she died.” Her words were blunt, sharp as a knife cutting through me.
I already knew that, from the text message I had gotten from my grandma’s lawyer.
My mother’s next words made me freeze in shock.
“I’ve decided to transfer it to Sophia’s name for her future wedding fund.”
A crack splintered through the cup I was holding, the fragile glass shattering under my grip. I looked down in shock at the fractured pieces, the sting of the glass almost as sharp as the realization hitting me.
Kate had given me a sign. She was telling me, even from beyond the grave, that I should never have let this happen. That inheritance was mine.
My wolf snarled within me. I couldn’t stay silent, not this time.
“I won’t agree to this.”
Margaret’s eyes widened, caught off guard by my rare defiance.
A cold smirk twisted on her lips. “You don’t get a say. I’m your mother.” Her voice turned sharp, like a whip lashing through the air.
Sophia’s eyes gleamed. She was watching me now, her expression hungry. She didn’t even bother to hide her amusement.
She flashed me a smug smile, shooting me a glance full of triumph.
I didn’t even look at her. My fingers trembled as I set the cracked cup down on the table. The room felt too small, too suffocating, the air thick with tension. I turned to face Margaret, my expression cold and unyielding.
“That inheritance is from my grandmother,” I said, my voice steady, even as my wolf bristled within me. “If anyone deserves it, it’s not some adopted girl with no blood tie to her. I won’t back down this time. No one’s taking what Grandma left for me!”
Evelyn’s POV
I could feel the shift in the room as Margaret froze, her eyes narrowing as she processed what I’d said. Anger surged in her, her eyes shining briefly with her wolf.
She snapped back to herself, her voice sharp, “I’m your mother.”
I felt my lips curl into a mocking smile, though I barely had the energy to hold it there. My voice cut through the tension, cold and biting. “And you should remember that, Mom. I’m your real daughter.” The words stung, but they felt like something I needed to say.
I saw the shock flicker across Margaret’s face. She stood there, rooted to the spot, her mind unable to catch up to the anger that was suddenly swirling in the air between us.
Then, as if on cue, Sophia’s voice sliced through the silence, trembling with fake hurt. “Evelyn… are you blaming me?”
I turned to face her, already knowing what was coming. Her face was a picture of wounded innocence-just like I expected. She was playing that same tired card, her eyes wide with exaggerated sorrow. It almost made my stomach churn.
She sobbed, fake tears falling as she whimpered, “It’s my fault. If my mom hadn’t saved Margaret back then, I wouldn’t have stolen her attention and care from you.”
Oh, please. Not this again. I could see through her act, but Margaret, as always, was too blinded by her need for control to notice. Sophia was crying, red-faced with fake sorrow, and I knew it was all for show.
Margaret’s anger flared up again, icy and sharp, as she turned to glare at me, her gaze venomous. “Sophia’s mother saved my life. You’re my daughter, can’t you just let her have this?”
Let her have it? The anger inside me twisted, my wolf howling to tear something apart. I bit back the urge to snap, forcing the words out, cold as ice. “All these years, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”
Margaret had long since overlooked me. Her own flesh and blood, treated like a weed, while her adopted daughter was a jewel to be treasured. I could feel the bitterness flood my chest, the heat of it coiling inside me like a predator preparing to strike.
“You owe her your life, so repay her yourself. Don’t drag me into it,” I said, my voice low and controlled, but it was a challenge, a demand.
Without sparing them another glance, I turned on my heel and walked out.
The door closed behind me, but my voice, cool and indifferent, carried on the breeze. “I’m not giving it up, not this time.”
I could hear Margaret’s fury as she shouted after me, but I didn’t stop. “I’m your mother. You’ll give it up whether you like it or not.”
My steps faltered briefly, then quickened. My wolf was restless within me, its claws scraping against my mind, pushing me forward with a hunger I couldn’t quite tame. This is it. I can’t back down now.
