After I left Alpha father and son went crazy with regret

The phone call had drained the last ounce of Nora's patience.

She had spoken wearily, telling Alex to ask his father. She wasn't available.

That should have been enough, but Alex, as persistent as ever, refused to give up.

"But where are you now?" he pressed. "Can I come find you?"

She sighed, rubbing her temple. He was too young to remember the exact address of her new home.

Even if he did, she didn't want him showing up unannounced.

"No, Alex," she said firmly. "I'm resting, and tomorrow I have to go visit Grandma." Without waiting for

another plea, she ended the call.

The exhaustion clung to her as she returned home. She barely had the energy to change before collapsing onto her bed, sinking into a sleep so deep it felt like she had stopped existing. When she finally woke, it was to the sharp chime of the doorbell.

Dazed, she glanced at the clock. Nine in the morning. Who on earth...?

Then, the intercom buzzed. "Miss Nora, you have a visitor," the property owner informed her.

She moved toward the window and peeked through the blinds. A familiar black car was parked

downstairs. Arnold.

Her first instinct was to ignore it, pretend she wasn't home. But before she could move away, her mind-link rang. His voice, cool and steady, filled her head.

*"I know you're home. Open the door."*

A muscle in her jaw twitched. She exhaled sharply before heading for the door.noveldrama

Moments later, the sleek vehicle rolled to a stop right outside her apartment complex. The car door swung open, and a small figure burst out.

"Mom!" Alex ran up to her, his face beaming. "I'm home!"

Nora forced a faint smile as Arnold stepped out, carrying Alex's book bag. His gaze was unreadable.

"I know it's not your day with the kids," Arnold said as he reached her, his tone careful, “but Alex has been saying he misses you. And I have some things to take care of."

Nora couldn't help the bite of sarcasm that slipped out, "You're the Alpha. There's always plenty to do every day,"

Arnold hesitated, his expression shifting, Instead of irritation, he said simply, "My father is back."

Nora stiffened.

Adrian. The last Alpha of Silvermoon. The man who had ruled with a presence so commanding that even after stepping down, his name still carried weight. Since joining the Werewolf Council, he had been even more elusive, rarely returning home unless something significant required his attention.

And now, he was back.

Nora said nothing at first. Then, without looking at Arnold, she turned to Alex. "Say goodbye to your dad."

Alex, oblivious to the quiet tension between them, waved cheerfully at Arnold before bounding inside.

As he ran past her, something caught her eye-a small doll dangling from his book bag.

Her heart clenched.

A memory surfaced. A week ago, Abby had gifted her a pair of dolls-one large,

one small. She had kept the larger one, and the smaller...

The realization struck Nora like a slap-sharp, unexpected, and impossible to ignore.

Her gaze lingered on the small doll, now dangling from Alex's bag, its soft fabric slightly worn from handling. It was unmistakable. If the larger version remained in her possession, then this one...

Had been given to Linda.

A quiet tension filled the space between them. Even as the late afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting warm golden hues over the room, the air between mother and son had suddenly turned

cold.

Nora's senses sharpened, detecting the faint trace of perfume clinging to Alex's clothes. Linda's scent.

A slow, bitter realization settled in her chest. He had been with her.

Alex, catching the way his mother's gaze locked onto the doll, stiffened. His small fingers curled around the strap of his bag as if he could somehow make it disappear from sight

1-1 bought this the other day," he blurted out, his voice too quick, too defensive. His dark eyes flickered away from hers. "Do you like it, Mom?"

Nora didn't answer.

Instead, when he moved toward her for a hug, she gently pushed him away.

Alex froze. Confusion, and then something like hurt, flickered across his face before he quickly masked it.

"Don't run around today," she told him, her voice quieter now. "Your father will pick you up in the evening. You're having dinner at Lancelot Manor."

Alex's expression faltered. His lips parted slightly as if he had misheard her. "You mean, you're not

coming?"

His voice carried a child's simple heartbreak-pure and unguarded.

For as long as he could remember, his mother had always come with him to these dinners. It was an unspoken rule, a rare constant in his ever-changing world. Even when his father had been absent, even when she had been busy, she had always made time.

But not this time.