Alpha's Regret: The Seventh Time was Forever

”It’s nothing. I’m just not in the mood.”

That was the only excuse Seraphine could come up with. It sounded weak even to her own ears, and she knew Voren wasn’t buying it. Not for a second. The words hung in the air between them, flimsy and transparent, and she watched his expression harden, something dark flickering behind his eyes.

Voren would’ve been fine with her excuse if her wolf hadn’t warmed up to Ravyn. Yeah, he still couldn’t get over that.

It made his blood boil every time he thought about it, a hot, churning anger that settled in his chest and refused to leave.

He was counting down the days until the blood moon festival, desperate for answers, desperate to understand what the hell was going on with his wife’s wolf and that of his former best friend.

”Do you regret marrying me?”

The question came out of nowhere, raw and unguarded. Seraphine frowned, completely caught off guard. ”You’re tired. Don’t spurt nonsense.”

But Voren wasn’t letting it go. He looked her dead in the eyes, his gaze intense, searching, and asked again, his voice low and steady. ”Are you falling out of love with me?”

This time, Seraphine raised a brow, her expression shifting from confusion to something sharper. Hurt flickered across her features just for a second before it was replaced by something fiercer. ”V, you’re the most important person to me. I love you not just with my heart but with my soul.”

”But you deny intimacy so ruthlessly with me.” Voren’s voice was tight, controlled, but she could hear the hurt underneath. The vulnerability he was trying so hard to hide.

”That kind of thing never happened until Ravyn showed up again. For some reason, he’s gotten a haircut and is looking so good. Even your wolves are able to derive energy from each other.”

Seraphine laughed when she realized what was going on. She’d been trying to save him from worrying unnecessarily, but his thoughts were just messed up. Or, was he jealous? The thought was almost amusing, almost endearing, but the pain in his eyes stopped her laughter short.

”Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

”Give me a reason not to be,” Voren replied, not denying it.

Seraphine laughed again, but this time it was softer, warmer. She reached out and placed her hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath her palm. ”Okay, let me ask this. If I somehow became so foolish that I decided to get back with Ravyn, would you let me go?”

Her heart thumped ruthlessly at her own question. Even the thought of it felt wrong, like a betrayal of everything they were but Voren’s darkened gaze was enough to warm her heart.

”I will make one thing clear.” His voice dropped low, dangerous, the kind of voice that made her shiver. ”You are my wife, and in my understanding of marriage, there is no divorce. I’d rather kill Ravyn before you even think about getting back together with him.”

His eyes burned into hers, fierce and unyielding. ”Not just him. Any other man who dares to look at you twice.”

Seraphine’s heart warmed. Yeah, she wanted her man to be possessive of her, just like she was of him. The intensity of his love, the way he claimed her without apology, was everything she’d ever wanted and more.

”So, rest assured, I feel nothing for Ravyn anymore.” Her voice softened, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw. ”Honestly, I don’t even hate him because your love gives me peace. I will never love another man, even if you were dead.”

Voren closed his eyes, her words sinking deep into his soul. The tension in his shoulders eased, the tightness in his jaw relaxed. But she held his cheek, her touch firm, demanding his attention.

”Look at me, V.”

He instantly looked at her, their gazes locked, the connection between them electric.

”This is my last chance at marriage, and I will never love or marry anyone else.” Her voice was fierce, unwavering, a vow whispered between lovers. ”You’re stuck with me forever. Got that?”

Voren smiled and pressed his lips to hers. His kisses were passionate, possessive, hungry, demanding, like he was trying to claim her all over again, like he was trying to pour every ounce of his love and fear and relief into that single moment.

Seraphine welcomed it, melting into him, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

But when his hand moved to her core again, she stopped him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, gentle but firm, and she blurted out, ”I almost had a miscarriage.”