Alpha’s Regret After His Pregnant Luna Left novel Chapter 129

(Audrey’s POV)

Arthur’s fingers were gentle as they combed through my damp hair, the warmth of the blow dryer creating a cocoon of comfort around us. I watched him in the mirror, his face a mask of concentration as he carefully dried each strand.

“I’m sorry, Audrey,” he said softly, his eyes meeting mine in the reflection. “I never realized how much I was missing. Your birthdays, our anniversaries… I took everything for granted.”

I remained silent, feeling the weight of his words. Three years of memories flashed through my mind-waiting for acknowledgment that rarely came, planning celebrations he barely noticed.

“I thought you were always going to be there,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “I didn’t understand that I needed to cherish what we had.”

I sighed, the sound barely audible over the drone of the blow dryer. “Some chances don’t come around again, Arthur.”

His hands stilled momentarily before resuming their task. “I know that now. Too late, it seems.”

For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what reconciliation might look like-returning to the pack mansion, trying again with this newly attentive version of Arthur. My wolf stirred inside me, both anxious and yearning.

But then reality asserted itself. One tender moment couldn’t erase years of neglect. One night of care couldn’t rebuild the trust that had been systematically dismantled.

“I can’t go back,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the tumult of emotions inside me. “Not after everything. I need to move forward with my life, Arthur. Without the complications of pack politics.”

His eyes darkened briefly with disappointment, but he nodded. “Okay.”

Just that. A simple acceptance that spoke volumes about how far we’d both come. His Alpha presence diminished slightly, no longer trying to dominate the space between us.

“Let me cook you something,” he offered after finishing with my hair. “As a further apology.”

The request surprised me. In our three years together, I’d never once seen Arthur prepare a meal. “You cook?”

A small smile played at his lips. “I have hidden talents.”

I hesitated before nodding. “Alright.”

In the kitchen, Arthur moved with unexpected confidence, gathering ingredients from my modest supplies. I sat at the counter, watching him work.

“How’s the territory house sale going?” he asked, slicing venison with practiced ease.

“Slower than I’d hoped,” I admitted. “The location is good, but potential buyers are wary of purchasing something connected to the Moonstone Pack during all this… turbulence.”

He glanced up, his knife stilling. “Is that why you returned the resources I transferred to your account? Because they came from the pack?”

I met his gaze steadily. “I need to do this on my own, Arthur. No entanglements.”

“Even if it means struggling financially?”

“I’m exploring other options. There are allied packs interested in investing in a new healing practice, especially one using the Winter methodology.”

Arthur resumed his cooking, adding spices to a simmering pot. The aroma of chili peppers filled the kitchen-spicy and pungent, so different from the mild flavors he usually preferred.

My wolf paced restlessly within me, both comforted and disturbed by his familiar scent in my space. I’d spent so long trying to create distance between us, yet here he was, cooking in my kitchen as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I didn’t know you liked spicy food,” I commented, watching him add more chili to the mixture.

“I don’t particularly,” he admitted, stirring the pot. “But I know you do.”

The simple acknowledgment of my preference-something I’d always accommodated for him, never the reverse-left me momentarily speechless.

Dinner was served shortly after-spicy venison with hot and sour soup, the flavors bold and assertive in a way I hadn’t experienced since leaving my parents’ home.

“Your sensitive gut won’t handle this well,” I warned as he took his first bite.

Arthur shrugged, a slight grimace crossing his face at the heat. “It’s only fair that I try it your way once,” he said, his eyes meeting mine briefly across the table. “After all, you adapted to my preferences for three years.”

The meal passed in surprisingly comfortable silence. Afterward, Arthur insisted on washing the dishes while I returned to the healing journals Nathan had retrieved for me.

My phone buzzed with a message from Nathan: “Stomach acting up again. Any chance you have herbs that might help?”

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