Alpha's Regret: I Burn for My Dead Daughter

My pup Ellie's heart were failing. Before her surgery, her biggest wish was to spend her birthday at the sea with her dad, just the two of them, sharing a moment together.

I knelt before Alpha Sean, begging him to grant our pup's wish. He agreed.

But on her birthday, Ellie stood in the biting cold, waiting for him. She waited until she coughed up blood and collapsed. He never showed.

Her condition worsened. The healers couldn't save her.

In her final moments, tears streamed down her face as she asked me, "Mom, why does Dad love Claire's pup but not me? Am I not good enough?"

Ellie left this world with that regret in her heart.

From her tiny hand slipped her phone, still playing a video.

In it, her dad was celebrating the birthday of his first love she-wolf Claire's pup at the seashore.

Alone by Ellie's cremation chamber, my wolfish silhouette stretched stark against the ominous sky.

As my fingers dipped into my pocket, the wolfsbane chain Alpha Sean once bound me with let out a soft clink.

Trembling, I pulled out the ribbon bow.

Bending close, my hands hovered an inch above Ellie's still form, as if a single touch might shatter the fragile peace on her face.

"Happy birthday, my brave little warrior," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

When my lips pressed to her forehead, the world went silent-until a young werewolf shuffled up behind me, voice hesitant: "Lady Olivia, the Alpha-"

"He's not coming," I snarled, my tone as sharp as broken glass.

When he mumbled, "Maybe wait a bit longer?" a laugh burst from me, bitter as gall.

"Wait? Yesterday, it poured like the gods were weeping. My pup stood by the sea from sunrise to sunset, coughing blood until she collapsed. And where was he?"

My nails dug into my palms, drawing blood.

"He was with another she-wolf, throwing her a goddamn birthday party!"

The young wolf gaped, speechless.

My fingers lingered on Ellie's pale cheek, rigid under my touch.

"Burn her now," I choked out, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Don't miss her auspicious hour."

A prayer slipped from my lips: may my girl find a kinder pack in the next life, one where a father holds her close-one who'd never leave her waiting in the rain.

Night fell quickly after I left the crematorium.

In the taxi, I hugged Ellie's urn so tight my knuckles ached, staring through the window at nothing.

When we passed the shoreline, my phone lit up: "Jovia alpha rents entire island for daughter's birthday-fireworks show included!"

In the sky, fireworks exploded into the words: "Happy Birthday, Little Lily!"

Below, Lillian wore a gown of moon moth silk, its iridescent fabric shifting like water.

Moonstones glinted along the hem, just like the stars Ellie used to draw in her notebook.

She held Claire's hand in one fist, Alpha Sean's in the other, and when the next round of fireworks burst, they both