Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 126

POV: Seraphina

The smile from that night lingered. It was a small, quiet thing, but it was persistent. In the days that followed our late-night work session, I found it returning at unexpected moments—a faint, upward curve of my lips when Killian would make a dry, witty observation in a meeting, or a warmth that spread through my chest when he would pass me in the hallway with a simple, understanding nod.

The tense, purely professional atmosphere that had once defined our every interaction had softened. A comfortable, unspoken warmth had settled between us. We were still the formidable business duo, Siren and the Alpha of the Vance clan, but we were also becoming something else. We were becoming Seraphina and Killian. We would often find ourselves lingering after strategy sessions, talking about trivial things—a book he was reading, a new type of flora I had discovered on the island. It was a friendship, easy and undemanding, but beneath it, a current of something deeper was beginning to flow. A shared, unspoken anticipation for what it might become.

The island itself seemed to reflect this new, fragile peace. The initial chaos of settlement had given way to a thriving, orderly community. The sounds of construction were being replaced by the sounds of life. It felt, for the first time, like a true home.

This newfound tranquility was shattered on a bright, sunny afternoon.

I was in the main command center with Jax, reviewing patrol schedules, when Killian entered. He was holding a data slate, his brow furrowed not with worry, but with a kind of fond exasperation that was entirely new to me.

"We have an unscheduled arrival," he announced, his voice dry.

"So," she said, her voice a surprisingly warm, cultured alto. "You are the Siren who has so thoroughly captivated my grandson's strategic attention."

She extended a delicate, gloved hand. I took it, my own handshake firm and steady. "Lady Isold. It is an honor to welcome you to Aethelgard," I said, my voice polite and formal.

"The honor is all mine, my dear," she replied, her smile gracious. But her eyes, those sharp, piercing eyes, were already moving, taking in everything. She was looking at the fortifications on the cliffs, the readiness of the guards, the efficiency of the port's operations. She was looking at the way I stood, the way I held myself beside her grandson. Her visit was no casual tea. It was a full-scale inspection.