Alpha’s Regret After His Pregnant Luna Left novel Chapter 261

(Audrey’s POV)

The official notification arrived on a crisp autumn morning, one year after Aurora and Serena’s birth. I was feeding the twins their breakfast when Florian entered the kitchen holding the formal pack correspondence with an unreadable expression. “What is it?” I asked, noting the tension in his shoulders.

“News from the African territories,” he said quietly, glancing at our daughters before meeting my eyes. “About Nathan.” My hand stilled on Aurora’s feeding spoon. “What kind of news?”

“He’s dead, Audrey.” Florian’s voice was gentle but direct. “Died protecting a lone wolf mother and her pup from a gang of rogue wolves.”

The spoon dropped from my numb fingers, clattering against the high chair. Aurora babbled in confusion while Serena watched me with those serious golden eyes that seemed to understand more than an infant should.

“How?” I whispered.

“More than a dozen rogues attacked the mother and daughter. Nathan fought them off, but he was overwhelmed.” Florian moved closer, his hand settling on my shoulder. “The survivors said he called out one name before he died.”

I already knew what name. My chest tightened with complicated grief.

“He said ‘Tell Audrey I’m sorry,”” Florian continued softly.

I sat in silence for a long moment, processing this final chapter of Nathan’s story. The man who had manipulated and terrorized me had died heroically, saving innocents. The contradiction felt impossible to reconcile.

“I need to go there,” I said suddenly.

“Audrey-“

“I need to retrieve his ashes and bring him home.” My voice grew stronger with conviction. “Despite everything he did, he was once my friend. He deserves to be buried with dignity.”

Florian studied my face carefully. “Are you certain? This could be emotionally difficult.”

“I’m certain.” I reached for his hand. “Will you come with me?”

“Always.”

The journey to the African territories took two days. We left the twins with Yvette, who understood the importance of this closure ritual. The landscape was harsh and unforgiving, much like Nathan’s final years of exile.

The lone wolf mother, Kira, met us at a small settlement near where Nathan had died. Her young daughter clung to her side, both bearing healing scars from their ordeal.

“Nathan Snowfang saved our lives,” Kira said simply. “He could have run when he saw the rogues coming. Instead, he positioned himself between us and them.”

“What did he say exactly?” I asked gently.

“He fought like a wolf possessed,” she continued. “When the last rogue fell, he collapsed. His final words were clear: ‘Tell Audrey I’m sorry. Tell her I finally understood what love really means.””

Tears blurred my vision. Even in death, Nathan had been thinking of me. Not with obsession, but with genuine remorse.

We collected his ashes in a simple wooden urn carved with traditional wolf symbols. The local pack elders had treated him with respect, recognizing his final heroic act.

Back in Central Territory, we buried Nathan’s ashes in the flower garden of our old academy. The same place where we had all been children together, before tragedy and obsession had twisted his path.

“He’s at peace now,” I whispered, placing a small bouquet of wildflowers on the grave marker.

“So are you,” Florian observed, noting the release in my posture.

“Yes. I think I finally am.”

By the time Aurora and Serena reached their third birthday, they had developed into remarkably different yet complementary personalities. The transformation was evident in every aspect of their daily lives.

Aurora had inherited Florian’s bold leadership instincts combined with my healing empathy. She organized elaborate “rescue missions” for their stuffed animals, always ensuring no toy was left behind during their adventures.

“Serena, the bear is trapped under the sofa!” Aurora announced dramatically one morning. “We have to save him!”

“But what if we get stuck too?” Serena asked thoughtfully, studying the situation with careful consideration.

“Then we’ll figure out how to save ourselves,” Aurora declared with absolute confidence. “That’s what brave wolves do.” Serena possessed Florian’s strategic mind and my intuitive understanding of others. She observed every situation carefully before acting, often with wisdom that surprised even the adults around her.

“Aunt Sarah looks sad today,” Serena whispered to me during one of Sarah’s visits. “Should we make her favorite cookies?” “That’s very perceptive, sweetheart. Why do you think she’s sad?”

“Her eyes are different. Like when Leo misses his mama.” Serena’s observation was remarkably accurate. Sarah had been struggling with loneliness lately.

“Making cookies is a wonderful idea.”

Florian had become exactly the father I’d always known he would be. Patient, playful, and absolutely devoted to his daughters’ happiness and development. His own childhood experiences had taught him the importance of security and unconditional love.

“They’ll never question whether they’re wanted,” he said proudly one evening as we watched the girls play. “That’s the foundation we’re building everything else on.”

“Look how different they are, yet how well they work together,” I observed.

Aurora was teaching Serena to do a proper forward roll in the garden while Leo patiently provided encouragement and instruction. The three children had formed an unbreakable bond.

“Aurora leads with her heart,” Florian noted. “Serena leads with her mind.”

“Together they’ll be unstoppable,” I agreed.

Sarah’s romantic life finally found direction when she met Dr. Marcus Moonhall, a widowed therapist with twin ten-year-old daughters of his own. His courtship proceeded slowly and thoughtfully, respecting Sarah’s independent nature.

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