Alpha's Regret: The Seventh Time was Forever

Leon’s brow pulled together as he looked at her with that familiar mix of curiosity and quiet irritation he always seemed to carry whenever Seraphine became too intense, and even though his voice stayed calm, there was something heavier in his voice when he asked, "And why exactly would I refuse you that?"

A tired smile pressed against Seraphine’s lips, faint and fragile, but there was still determination behind it as she took the folder from his hands and headed toward the small office she had claimed as her own inside the hospital.

It had become the only place where she could breathe for a second without feeling like the walls were closing in on her.

Corvine followed right behind her without saying a word.

He already knew what she was about to do before she even sat down.

The moment she lowered herself into the chair, she opened the file and began sorting through the reports, while Corvine sat beside her and quietly helped. Together, they separated the files by age, narrowing them down to children between six and seven years old.

At first, it seemed simple enough. There were only names, ages, blood types, records, samples, and tiny fragments of lives folded into paper.

But the longer Seraphine looked through them, the harder it became to breathe.

Every file felt like it could belong to her daughter, every little detail became something to cling to.

A birthday, a blood type, a strand of hair collected for testing, a note from a nurse. Every single thing had the power to fill her chest with hope for a few seconds before tearing it apart all over again.

She looked through one report after another, fingers trembling more with every page she turned, and every time she found a child whose age lined up, her pulse would spike so hard it hurt.

Then came the blood results, the DNA. None of them matched her, and none of them matched Ravyn either.

Every single time, that tiny spark inside her died all over again.

She had not realized hope could hurt this much. It came so fast, so bright, making her believe for one fragile second that maybe this would be the child, maybe this would finally be the answer she had been looking for all these years, only for reality to slam into her chest hard enough to leave her breathless.

One by one, the files were pushed aside, and one by one, every possibility disappeared.

The pile in front of her grew smaller and smaller until there was only one folder left sitting on the desk between her and Corvine.

Seraphine stared at it for a long moment before finally reaching for it. Her fingers felt numb, her chest felt hollow.

And when she opened it and found another child who was not hers, something inside her quietly cracked.

The last bit of hope she had been holding onto slipped right through her fingers.

The silence in the room became unbearable, the office suddenly felt too small, too quiet, too heavy.

A soft sound escaped her throat before she could stop it, barely more than a broken sniff, but Corvine heard it immediately.

Without hesitation, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. Seraphine did not fight him.

The second his arms wrapped around her, she folded against him completely, burying her face in his chest as his warmth surrounded her.

For a while, neither of them spoke. She just stood there, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.

She wanted so badly to stay strong, to keep pretending she could handle this.

But the disappointment sitting inside her was too deep, too sharp, too overwhelming to hide anymore.

Tears slid silently down her cheeks, disappearing into his shirt as she clung to him harder.

"You promised, remember?" Corvine murmured softly, his voice low and steady beside her ear.

He held her tighter as he spoke, reminding her of the promise they had made before they came here.

They had prepared themselves for this, told themselves there was a chance they would not find anything, built walls around their hearts for this exact reason.

But none of that changed how much it hurt now that it was real. "I know," she whispered, her voice cracking no matter how hard she tried to hold herself together. "I know we did, but it still hurts."

Her words came out weak and broken, and after that, she stopped trying to hide it.

She let herself lean on him completely because he was the only person who truly understood what this felt like.

He had been there from the beginning, knew every choice they had made.

He knew what it meant to live with the guilt of not knowing whether that child had survived or disappeared forever.

"What if she is among the ones dead?" Seraphine whispered after a while, her voice shaking so badly it almost did not sound like her at all. "What if we already lost her and we do not even know it?"

Corvine closed his eyes for a second. Just hearing her say it out loud made something tighten painfully inside his chest because he knew if she let herself believe that, it would destroy her completely.

When he looked at her again, he gently pulled back just enough so he could see her face. "No," he said firmly.

His voice was calm, but there was certainty in it.

"We do not have proof of that, so we are not thinking like that. We are going to keep searching until we know for sure, and until then, we hold onto hope because that is all we have right now."

Seraphine lowered her eyes, her breathing was uneven, shaky, but she forced herself to listen to him.

She forced herself to hold onto his words because right now, they were the only thing stopping her from drowning in fear.

"Let’s just believe she has good parents," Corvine said softly. "Let’s believe she is somewhere safe. Somewhere she is loved, protected, and cared for."

Seraphine swallowed hard, then she gave the smallest nod. It was barely noticeable, enough to keep herself together for a little longer.

Enough to stop herself from completely breaking apart.

The knock at the office door came suddenly, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade, and before Seraphine could even move away from Corvine, the door opened.

Voren stood there, looking calm as always, composed and unreadable, but the second his eyes landed on Seraphine standing in Corvine’s arms, something dark flickered across his face.

It disappeared almost instantly, by the way he covered it too fast for anyone else to notice.

Seraphine stepped away from Corvine, quickly wiping at her tears with the back of her hand before taking a slow breath.

"I thought you left," she said quietly.

"I did," Voren replied, taking in her countenance and coming to the conclusion that her daughter was not among the hostages she rescued. "There is something you have to see," he said, Seraphine frowned, wondering what Voren had to show her.