Alpha's Regret After She Kneels novel Chapter 64

Chapter 64

(Raiden’s POV)

The third round of the competition begins. This is where Silverfang excels–where I excel.

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Leadership evaluation isn’t about brute strength or dominance. It’s about strategy, foresight, and the ability to manage crises under pressure.

These are the qualities that define a true Alpha.

And for years, I’ve been unmatched.

But today… today, something feels different.

Standing at the head of Silverfang’s delegation, my posture commanding as the evaluation begins.

The judges outline the assessment areas–pack management, crisis response, resource allocation. Everything I’ve spent my life mastering.

But as the proceedings unfold, my focus drifts, my senses tugged inexorably toward Windhowl’s section.

Toward Siena.

She stands at the forefront of her pack, her expression composed and confident, her posture reflecting a quiet authority that commands attention without demanding it.

I try to look away, to focus on my own pack’s strategies, but my gaze keeps returning to her–watching the way she moves, the way she speaks, the way her warriors respond to her without hesitation.

Windhowl’s warriors, once dismissed as undisciplined and weak, move with precision and purpose.

Their formations are sharp, their responses fluid, and their tactics… innovative. I catch glimpses of their resourcefulness, the subtle shifts in strategy that allow them to adapt seamlessly to changing scenarios.

They take what should be weaknesses and turn them into strengths.

And it’s because of her.

Horace stirs, preening with pride that has no place here. But I can’t deny what I’m seeing.

Siena has transformed Windhowl.

I force my attention back to Silverfang’s performance. My pack executes flawlessly, as expected, but the unsettling realization gnaws at the edges of my consciousness.

Siena’s doing more than keeping up.

She’s excelling.

Through the corner of my eye, I catch glimpses of her giving quiet commands, her pack responding with unwavering loyalty.

Her confidence isn’t forced–it’s earned. And the respect she commands… it’s genuine.

When did she become this?

I remember her as the young Luna I once dismissed–too soft, too naïve for the brutal realities of leadership. But the

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Chapter 64

woman standing before me now is anything but weak. She’s calculated. Resilient.

A leader in her own right. And worse–she’s doing it without me.

My chest tightens.

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Between assessment sessions, murmurs ripple through the gathered council members, their voices barely audible but carrying weight nonetheless.

“Windhowl’s progress is remarkable,” one elder comments, his tone grudging but laced with respect.

“The Luna has genuine vision,” another admits, as though the words physically pain him. “Perhaps we’ve underestimated her.”

The acknowledgment twists something deep inside me.

They’re not wrong.

I have underestimated her.

For years, I believed she was nothing without me–that Windhowl’s survival hinged on my support. But the woman leading that pack now is thriving in ways I never thought possible. And the worst part?

She did it despite me.

Horace growls low in my mind, torn between satisfaction and regret. He’s proud of her, proud of the mate he chose. But there’s also an ache–a reminder of what we’ve lost, of what I threw away.

When did I stop seeing her?

When did I stop believing in her?

I push the thoughts aside, forcing my focus back to Silverfang’s performance, but the words of the council members echo louder than I’d like.

“Perhaps we’ve underestimated her.”

The realization hits harder than I expect, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

During the strategy presentation, Siena takes the floor, her presence commanding even before she speaks…

“Distinguished members of the council, Alpha representatives… thank you for this opportunity to present Windhowl’s strategic vision.”

She pauses briefly, allowing her gaze to settle across the room

“For generations, we’ve treated werewolf- relations as a binary choice integration or isolation. But Windhowl proposes a third path–one of selective transparency and strategic alliance.”

Her voice carries without strain, each word carefully weighted

“We believe the strength of our kind lies not in hiding who we are, nor in revealing everything to a world that may not be ready. Rather, it lies in creating calculated points of connection that serve both communities.”

She gestures to the digital display behind her, highlighting key statistics

“Our data shows that territories employing this balanced approach have experienced 40% fewer security incidents while maintaining cultural integrity. This isn’t about compromising who we are–it’s about evolving how we coexist.”

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A murmur passes through the judges.

Her words are precise, her arguments balanced, and her perspective on integration versus tradition is…

Sophisticated.

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I listen, unable to tear my eyes away as she presents a nuanced strategy that considers not just survival but long–term growth -plans that acknowledge the delicate balance between preserving pack traditions and adapting to a changing world.

This isn’t just strategy.

This is vision.

And for the first time, I see Siena not as the Luna I cast aside… but as a leader who might be capable of surpassing me.

Our eyes meet across the chamber as she concludes her presentation.

A flicker of something passes between us–acknowledgment, maybe. Or recognition.

She knows I see her now.

But it’s too late.

I look away first, the weight of my own failures pressing down on me with suffocating intensity.

Later, as I review the competition standings, a new kind of discomfort settles in my chest.

Windhowl and Silverfang are tied for first place.

It’s unprecedented.

For as long as I can remember, Silverfang has stood at the top. Victory has always been my singular focus–my birthright. And yet…

Windhowl’s rise feels earned.

My instincts rebel against the thought, but Horace…

Horace is pleased.

He doesn’t care about politics or pride. He cares that our mate has succeeded, that she’s carved out a place for herself in a world that sought to break her.

But I’m not Horace.

I can’t afford to be.

This isn’t just about Siena. This is about my pack, my people.

I won’t lose everything I’ve built because of misplaced admiration.

And yet…

The memory of her standing before the council, commanding respect with quiet authority, lingers in my mind, refusing to be ignored.

I’m proud of her.

I hate that I am.

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I hate her.

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I told myself I was protecting her by keeping her at a distance. I told myself she wasn’t strong enough to handle the burden of leadership.

But I was wrong.

And now, as I stand on the precipice of victory–or perhaps, defeat–I can’t shake the feeling that maybe… maybe I was the one holding her back all along.

The thought burns like acid, leaving a bitter aftertaste I can’t wash away.

As I leave for the council chambers, my mind is a storm of conflicting emotions.‘

Lila waits for me near the entrance, her expression carefully composed, but I can feel her watching me closely, reading the tension in my jaw, the rigidity in my posture.

“Everything alright?” she asks, her voice honeyed, but I no longer miss the calculation beneath her sweetness.

“Fine,” I reply curtly, but my tone betrays my unease.

Her eyes narrow slightly, and for a moment, her mask slips just enough for me to glimpse the cunning beneath. I should have seen it earlier–should have recognized the manipulations wrapped in concern, the subtle nudges that pushed me further away from Siena.

But I was too blind, too consumed by my own arrogance to see what was right in front of me.

Lila steps closer, her hand brushing my arm possessively. “You don’t have to worry about Windhowl,” she murmurs. “They won’t win. Not with Silverfang leading the way.”

But the words ring hollow.

For the first time, I’m not certain of victory.

And worse…

I’m not sure I want it.

As I walk away from Lila, the weight of everything I’ve ignored–everything I’ve lost–settles heavier than ever.

Siena doesn’t need me.

And maybe…

Maybe she never did.

But that realization doesn’t bring the satisfaction I thought it would.

It only leaves an ache that refuses to fade.

Because now, as I watch her rise…

I realize I was the one who fell.

And there’s no one to blame but myself.

But it’s too late to change any of it.

Because Siena isn’t mine to fight for anymore.

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Chapter 64

She’s already won.

I got what I paid for.

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