Alpha No Turning Back from Regret

I knelt in the snow, my fingers stiff and trembling as I buried my parents’ ashes. The wind howled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of blood and smoke, but all I felt was the hollow weight pressing against my chest.

Beside their urn, a small grave lay covered in frost. My second pup. The child John and I had lost before I even had the chance to hear his cry.

The Bone Howl elders gathered behind me, their footsteps crunching over the snow as they paid their respects. But the one person who should have been there—the only one who should have been at my side—wasn’t.

A voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold.

“When the Thornfang Pack was destroyed, your parents took him in. And now? He can’t even bother to come to their funeral.”

Another scoffed, bitter and cruel.

“Her parents gave their lives to strengthen the Bone Howl Pack, only to hand the Alpha’s title to an outsider.”

“The wolf you raise is always the first to sink his teeth into you.”

Their words stabbed deeper than the icy wind. I clutched the urn tighter, saying nothing.

A dull ache lingered in my lower abdomen—a cruel reminder of what had once lived inside me. Two pups, both gone. The doctor’s words still echoed in my mind: Your bloodline is failing. Three months at most.

Three months. That was all the time I had left.

Enough time to take their ashes and see the world one last time.

With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone. I dialed John’s number repeatedly, desperate for something—anything. Finally, the line clicked.

But it wasn’t his voice.

“Mary?” Susan’s annoyed tone sliced through the receiver. “Are you insane? It’s two in the morning here in Los Angeles!”

My throat tightened, but my voice came out calm, steady.

“Put John on the phone.”

She gave a mocking laugh. “He’s in the kitchen making me coffee. What could you possibly want from him at this hour?！ Just say it and stop wasting my time.”

For a moment, I said nothing. My eyes lingered on the small grave beside me, on the cold snow covering what little I had left.

“This is the last time I’ll ever ask for him,” I whispered.

Susan’s tone hardened, sharp as glass. “You always say that, Mary. You always threaten to leave, but you never do.”

I pressed my lips together, swallowing the pain. Then I gave her the only answer left in me.

“Tell him I agree to break the mate bond.”

Before she could reply, I ended the call.

A bitter wind-swept past, stinging my ears and biting at my cheeks. I tightened my coat around me and rose from the snow.

Once, I had been terrified of losing him. But now? There was nothing left to lose. My parents. My children. My life.

All that remained was the road ahead—cold, lonely, unforgiving.

And I would walk it alone.