"Wait, so she's his mate? What a tragic fate for the Alpha to be bound to an Omega." I caught snippets of hushed conversations drifting through the air.
With a defiant glare, Ares boldly declared, "You're all wrong."
I gaze at him, my eyes filled with longing, desperately yearning for his protective embrace.
"She's nothing more than an Omega, a feeble wolf, a fragile girl with no power, and she will never, ever be worthy of being my Luna," he declared with an icy tone. 
It's all coldness. I can sense a sharp pang of pain piercing through my heart.
"I, Ares Zander Hendrix, the fierce and commanding Alpha of the Moon Stone Pack, forcefully cast you aside, Dana Toussaint, as my mate," he declared with a cold and unyielding voice.

***
Dana Toussaint has harbored deep affection for her childhood sweetheart, Ares Xander Hendrix, the Alpha heir of the Moon Stone Pack. Ares once pledged to make her his Luna, but their connection faltered when he disappeared, leaving Dana with lingering hope amidst her pain.
After what felt like an eternity, Ares resurfaces to claim the Alpha position, but he's transformed. His indifference towards Dana wounds her deeply; he not only spurns her but replaces her with the woman responsible for her parents' demise.
Feeling betrayed, Dana's world shifts when she encounters Bathel Harris, the formidable Alpha of the Sun Flower Pack, who has long admired her. They fall in love, yet Dana's feelings for Ares remain unique.
As Ares returns, seeking Dana's forgiveness and promising change, she faces a pivotal choice: will she return to him or remain with the steadfast Bathel by her side?

The Alpha's Regret.

　　I hesitated, unwilling to reveal the truth of my whereabouts, the weight of my deception heavy upon me. "In the woods," I lied, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.


　　Ares's expression softened, his features contorted with self-reproach. "Oh shit, I know I am being dramatic," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.


　　As I observed Ares's demeanor, a sense of nostalgia washed over me, a fleeting glimpse of the man he once was before the weight of responsibility and duty had taken its toll. But I knew deep down that we could never return to the simplicity of our past, that the scars of our shared history ran too deep to be erased.


　　"You don't need to pressure yourself with that," I offered, my tone devoid of warmth as I turned away from him, my focus fixed on the task at hand. With practiced ease, I retrieved the knife I had concealed earlier, its weight a comforting reminder of the power it represented.


CHAPTER 97 I Don't Care