Alpha’s Regret After His Pregnant Luna Left novel Chapter 2

(Audrey’s POV)

I adjusted my robe, pulled my chin high, and stepped toward the staircase. My bare feet moved silently over the floor, but before I could descend, Arthur appeared at the foot of the stairs, his presence blocking my view. His tall, imposing frame was tense, lips set in a grim line.

“Stay upstairs, Audrey,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto mine. His tone wasn’t harsh, but the undercurrent of command was unmistakable.

I crossed my arms, refusing to waver. “Why?”

“It’s nothing important.” His eyes flicked down briefly, but not before I caught the flash of discomfort. “I’ll take care of it. Go rest.”

“I’m perfectly capable of meeting visitors in my own home,” I countered, voice steady even as my wolf, Grace, snarled low in the back of my mind.

“Audrey,” he said, exhaling sharply as if the conversation was testing his patience. He ran a hand through his dark hair, jaw tightening. “Just one morning. Stay out of this.”

But I moved past him anyway, descending the stairs after him. There was a flicker of something in his eyes when I followed—frustration, maybe guilt—but he said nothing further.

When I reached the bottom, Victoria came into view. She stood in the middle of our living room, elegant and polished as always. Her cream-colored blouse and tan pencil skirt fit her perfectly, and her blonde hair, curled at the ends, framed her face.

She held a glass of lemonade in hand, her bright red nails contrasting against the glass. Her lips curled into a soft, almost sweet smile at the sight of Arthur approaching her, but as her eyes met mine, the smile faltered ever so slightly before it returned.

“Alpha,” she greeted Arthur with a soft voice. “Luna.” Her tone shifted slightly when addressing me, more polite but intentionally detached.

“Victoria,” I said evenly, walking to Arthur’s side. My head was held high, though my stomach churned as I spotted the small velvet box on the coffee table.

Then it happened. As if rehearsed, Victoria suddenly gasped and stumbled back a step. Her glass slipped from her hand, spilling lemonade down the front of her pristine blouse.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed, her voice high-pitched, bordering on a wail. She clutched her blouse as if the liquid had burned her, her distress magnified to absurd proportions.

Arthur’s reaction was immediate. “Are you alright?” he asked, crossing the distance to her in mere seconds. His deep voice held a concern that I hadn’t heard in weeks. He grabbed tissues from the coffee table, carefully dabbing away at the spill before it could soak into her blouse further.

“It’s—oh… Arthur…” she murmured, her hand resting lightly on his arm as he fussed over her.

My breath hitched at the sight, anger flaring to the surface. Grace growled softly, sharing my disdain. He was acting like she’d been drenched in acid, not lemonade.

“It’s just lemonade,” Mary Bennett piped up cheerfully from the corner, a soft smile on her face as she carried a tray of clean glasses. “No harm done, miss.”

But Arthur barely acknowledged Mary’s voice. His focus remained entirely on Victoria, who continued to overemphasize her discomfort.

“Arthur, it’s just lemonade, not wolfsbane,” I finally said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Arthur froze for a moment, straightening up. His dark eyes darted to me, and I saw guilt flicker across his expression. He cleared his throat loudly and dropped the tissues.

“Victoria, you’re being overdramatic,” he said, his tone shifting to match my own coldness, before stepping away from her.

Victoria pouted, brushing at her blouse half-heartedly. “I suppose you’re right. I just… wasn’t expecting it. I’m sorry, Arthur.”

I clenched my fists at my sides. Her casual use of his name was grating enough, but hearing her apologize to him, as if I wasn’t even standing here, only made my anger burn hotter.

She cleared her throat and reached for the velvet box on the coffee table. “I actually came to return this,” she said, her smile sweet once again as she held the box out toward me.

I stared at the small box, my chest tightening. Every detail of the video played in my mind—the necklace, Arthur’s hands fastening it lovingly around her neck, his soft words to her in the jewelry store.

Victoria stepped closer, the box still extended toward me. When I didn’t immediately take it, her eyebrows raised slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes.

Finally, I reached out and took it. The cool velvet felt like ice in my fingers, making me pause. Slowly, I opened the lid.

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