Too Late To Regret, My Alphas

Rosalie:

The entire drive passed in complete silence.

It wasn’t the uncomfortable kind of silence, nor the kind that begged to be filled with meaningless conversation. It was the sort of silence that wrapped itself around me like a blanket, giving me the space to breathe when my thoughts refused to settle.

I sat in the passenger seat with my hands clasped tightly in my lap, occasionally glancing out the window without truly seeing the scenery rushing past. Every now and then, I became aware of Eiden looking in my direction, only to quietly return his attention to the road a second later. He never once asked me what had happened inside the club before he arrived. He never demanded an explanation or tried to comfort me with empty words. And somehow, his silence itself became comforting. It told me I didn’t need to explain anything until I was ready.

By the time I finally noticed the familiar gates opening ahead of us, confusion slowly pushed through the haze clouding my thoughts. This... wasn’t the road to my house. Nor was it the road leading to Eiden’s villa. It was only when the enormous mansion came into full view that I realized where he had brought me.

Nightfang Packhouse.

I looked toward Eiden, but he merely offered me a small smile before parking the car beneath the grand entrance.

"Come on," he said gently, climbing out before walking around to open my door himself.

I quietly followed him inside the mansion, still too mentally exhausted to ask why we were here. The warmth of the entrance hall welcomed me immediately, chasing away the lingering chill that had settled beneath my skin since meeting Alastor.

Eiden didn’t stop in the foyer. Instead, he led me through the vast mansion with practiced familiarity, climbing one elegant staircase after another before crossing long hallways lined with paintings and tall windows. It struck me once again just how eerily quiet the place was. During my first visit, I had assumed it was merely late at night, but now it was early evening and yet I still couldn’t spot a single servant or warrior. The mansion certainly wasn’t empty. I knew better. They were simply... gone. Hidden somewhere beyond sight.

The realization warmed my heart more than I expected.

They weren’t gone by coincidence. They were gone because Zaiden had arranged it. Just like the last time.

He remembered how overwhelmed I became under watching eyes. And rather than forcing me to meet the eyes of countless servants or endure curious gazes, he had quietly instructed everyone to remain out of my path. No fuss. No announcement. Just another silent gesture that told me he had remembered something important about me. The coldness that Alastor’s encounter had left inside my chest cracked ever so slightly.

Eiden finally stopped before a familiar door and then pushed it open.

My eyes immediately found Zaiden.

He was exactly where I somehow expected him to be, standing near the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the gardens outside. He still wore one of his impeccably tailored charcoal-black suits, the jacket perfectly fitted across his broad shoulders, his silver-gray tie loosened just enough to suggest he had only recently finished work.

The moment I stepped inside, his gray eyes lifted and settled on me. They slowly traveled from my face to my shoulders, down to my hands, then back to my eyes as though silently confirming for himself that I truly wasn’t injured. Only then did he let out a quiet breath and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

The change was so subtle that most people probably would have missed it. Yet, I didn’t.

His expression softened into something so gentle it almost didn’t resemble the intimidating Alpha the entire world feared.

"Would you like to shower first," he asked calmly, "and then have dinner with us?"

That was all he said. There were no questions, no interrogation, no asking whether I was alright, no mentioning Alastor, no pity, and no sympathy. He simply gave me an escape from everything that had happened.

I found myself slowly nodding. "...I’d like that."

A faint smile touched the corner of his lips. Beside me, Eiden clapped his hands together once. "Perfect." He looked between us before grinning. "I’ll cook."

Before I could react, he reached over and lightly patted the top of my head. The affectionate gesture caught me completely off guard, making me blink up at him in surprise.

"There," he said warmly. "Leave the rest to us."

Then, without waiting for either of us to object, he disappeared through the bedroom door, already talking to himself about what ingredients were available in the kitchen.

Silence returned.

Zaiden motioned toward the adjoining bathroom. "This way."

I followed him obediently. The luxurious bathroom looked exactly as I remembered it from my first stay here, spacious enough to rival an entire bedroom, the marble surfaces gleaming beneath warm lighting. He walked toward the enormous bathtub before pausing.

"Would you like me to prepare a bath?" His tone remained even, as though preparing baths for me had somehow become the most natural thing in the world.

I smiled faintly as I answered, "A shower is enough."

He inclined his head once. "As you wish." Without another word, he crossed into the adjoining walk-in closet, and a minute later he returned carrying neatly folded clothes over one arm. A pair of comfortable lounge pants and what appeared to be one of his softer casual shirts.

He stopped in front of me and held them out.

I looked at the clothes. Then, my gaze slowly lifted and settled on him, or more specifically... on the crisp black dress shirt hidden beneath his suit jacket. For several seconds I simply stared.

I had absolutely no idea where the thought came from. No idea why my heart suddenly started beating faster. And no idea why it suddenly felt incredibly important.

Before my brain could stop me, the words had already left my mouth. "I don’t want those."

Zaiden looked mildly surprised. "No?"

I slowly shook my head. Then raised one finger toward his chest and spoke the words before I could stop them.

"I want that one."