C
Chapter 6
Chapter 8
I lowered my head, glancing at the white slip of paper Jordan had discreetly handed me. The nearly scribed address was tinmistakably that of a cemetery.
My heart squeezed painfully. Could it be that Dominic’s missing sister was already dead? But even if the was, how could her passing have anything to do with my father? I knew my father too well he was kind hearted and gentle. He would never harm an innocent young girl.
Realizing I wouldn’t get any more information from Jordan or Lucas, I didn’t push further. The drive continued in silence as we headed toward Kingsford’s pack villa, the weight of unanswered questions hanging heavily in the air.
Returning to this place where Dominic and I once shared so many memories, my heart twisted painfully. It felt as if an invisible hand had reached into my chest, mercilessly squeezing my heart.
Jordan gently interrupted my troubled thoughts. “Madam, would you like to go inside and wait?”
“No,” I said quietly, shaking my head, “I’ll just wait for him here.”
My final encounter with Dominic would be at the Werewolf Civil Hall today for the divorce proceedings–I didn’t want anything else complicating things. Each tree, each blade of grass, each stone here carried memories of us together. I couldn’t bear reopening old wounds.
Yet, even as I tried to blame Dominic, memories of our past happiness flooded into my mind. He used to cherish me so dearly, holding me close as if terrified of losing me.
Though he’d become so cruel and indifferent, deep in my heart, I still couldn’t let go of the memories we’d made. Even if reason dictated that I should despise him, my heart remained soft and vulnerable.
The car remained idling, keeping me warm. Alone in the silence, my stomach suddenly twisted painfully, the familiar sharp pain clawing inside me again. I curled myself into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest, quietly enduring the agony as I waited for the dawn.
Winter always meant shorter days, and the mornings seemed to remain dim and hazy forever. Though it was already past seven, a thick layer of fog still blanketed the sky, preventing the sun from shining through.
Outside, the persimmon trees had shed their leaves long ago, leaving their branches bare and skeletal.
Looking at them through the misty glass window, I couldn’t help but recall happier days.
Back then, whenever the persimmons ripened, I would crave fresh persimmons, pumpkin seeds, and a bowl of comforting chicken noodle soup.
Dominic always indulged my whims, and being the Alpha of BlueOcean, he would personally climb the persimmon tree, which was more than ten meters high, to pick the ripest and prettiest fruits for me.
Lunala Annant. Whan I Walkod Away Alpha Went
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Chapter 9
Tremembered hope the leaves fluttered like golden rain, showering down beautifully around us. In those precious momenta, Dominic was warm and approachable always gentle, always doting on me. He’d cook for me, spoil me.
make sure I lackest nothing
with realizing it I’d already stepped out of the car, my feet guiding me across the yard toward the familiar tree. The old perramon tree still stood there, unchanged after so long, but everything else around me had shifted dramatically.
2 leaves had fallen, with only a few dry ones stubbornly clinging to the branches, fragile and precarious–exactly like my relationship with Dominic.
Third POV
Dominic walked out of the villa and encountered this quiet scene.
Celeste stood beneath the barren persimmon tree, her slender figure clad only in a thin sweater as the cold wind played with her hair.
Unlike the previous gloomy days, this morning brought faint, golden sunlight that gently kissed her pale skin, giving her a nearly translucent glow–like a fading goddess losing her last traces of divinity.
Her hands were still wrapped in gauze, her clothes clearly unchanged from the previous night, making her appear fragile and exhausted.
“Dominic,” she said softly without turning around, sensing his presence instinctively.
“Yes,” he replied coolly.
Celeste slowly turned to face him, lifting her gaze to meet his distant eyes. They stood only steps apart, yet the chasm between them had grown infinitely wide.
“I want to taste the persimmon, pumpkin seed, and chicken noodle soup you used to make,” she murmured, her voice gentle yet filled with quiet sorrow.
Ash of surprise briefly passed through Dominic’s dark eyes before he regained his cold composure. “It’s already
time.” past the season for persimmons, Celeste. Don’t waste your
Her eyes shimmered slightly with unshed tears, her voice trembling faintly as she whispered, “Can’t I make one last request before our divorce?”
In the three months they’d been apart, she seemed to have changed profoundly, becoming more vulnerable, mo worn down by life.
He finally spoke, his tone still cold but less harsh, “If you really want it, wait till next year–the fruit isn’t fresh right
now.”
Next year…
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Celeste reached out silently to touch the rough, dry bark of the tree. Next year was a distant impossibility for her.
“Dominic, do you truly hate me this much?” she asked softly, as though dreading the answer yet needing to hear it.
“Yes” he replied without hesitation.
She gazed at him deeply, her voice quivering slightly, “Then.. would you be happy if I were dead?”
Her words hit Dominic’s chest like a bolt of lightning, making his heart shudder involuntarily. For a fleeting moment, something indescribable flashed through his dark eyes.
But he quickly regained his composure, masking it with indifferent coldness. “It’s just a bowl of soup. Come inside.”
As she watched him stride away, a bitter yet faint smile curled at the corners of Celeste’s lips.
Dominic, do you still fear my death?’
A sudden rebellious thought rose in her heart. She couldn’t help but wonder–how would he react upon hearing of her death one day?
Would he feel relieved? Or…would he grieve?
Inside the kitchen, Dominic efficiently retrieved ingredients, including some frozen persimmons preserved from last year’s harvest, and began thawing them meticulously.
Celeste stood by silently, watching his familiar movements. An immense sorrow filled her heart, knowing deep down this would probably be the last meal he would ever prepare for her.
But that was fine.
At least this way, she could take one final warm memory with her.
While Dominic cooked, Celeste quietly roasted sweet potatoes in front of the fireplace. The delicious, comforting frogance gradually filled the spacious room.
The remembered clearly–in past winters, she’d always crouched here roasting sweet potatoes. Back then, whenever the aroma wafted through the mansion, old Mrs. Kingsford would rush over, happily chatting and sharing the sweet potatoes with her.
The old lady had treated Celeste like her own granddaughter, but she passed away two years ago. Afterward, old Mr. Kingsford, unwilling to linger in sorrowful memories, moved abroad.
Now, the once lively and warm home felt empty and desolate. Even though the sweet potatoes were just as fragra as before, without Mrs. Kingsford’s warm smile, they tasted bland and lonely.
After finishing a small sweet potato and drinking some warm water, Celeste’s stomach pain eased slightly.
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Just then, the kitchen’s comforting aroma drifted over. She stood up slowly and saw Dominic carefully ladling the soup into a thermos, setting aside a bowl for her.
She glanced at the beautifully prepared soup, yet realized she had no appetite at all.
“It’s getting late. Let’s head to the Werewolf Civil Hall,” she said softly, looking away from the somp
Dominic glanced at her coldly, his handsome brows furrowing with quiet anger. “You’re not going to drink it?”
“No.” she replied simply.
In the past, when she acted stubborn, he always patiently coaxed her. Now, he stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he calmly lifted the bowl, poured the untouched soup down the sink, and walked past her coldly.
“Let’s go.”
He handed the thermos to Jordan outside, instructing quietly, “Take this to the Noble Springs Residence.”
“Yes, Mr. Kingsford.”
At that moment, Celeste finally understood: their relationship had long since crumbled beyond repair. All their
become nothing but a tragic farce.
perseverance and stubbornness over the ”
She walked briskly toward the car. As she passed beneath the persimmon tree, a gust of cold wind blew past, dislodging the last few dried leaves from the branches. Celeste instinctively extended her hand, catching a fragile leaf gently in her palm.
“What exactly have we been holding onto?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
With a bitter smile, she let the leaf fall carelessly to the ground, crushing it beneath her shoe as she climbed into the
car.
Inside the vehicle, despite the heater being on, a chilling silence spread between them, both seated far apart, Separated by an invisible, icy barrier.
The journey to the Civil Affairs Bureau went smoothly, as though even heaven was eager to facilitate their separation. Every traffic light turned green for them, leading directly to their destination.
Just as they reached the street of the Bureau, Dominic’s phone rang urgently. Answering it swiftly, he heard Marina’s anxious voice on the other end, “Dominic, Jamie’s fever isn’t coming down. I didn’t want to bother you, but his temperature reached thirty–nine degrees just now. I’m scared…please hurry!”
“I’ll be right there,” Dominic responded without hesitation.
He ended the call and turned to face Celeste, whose eyes were now filled with an indescribable bitterness and
resentment.
cha looked straight at him, her voice shaking slightly as she asked, word by word, “What’s that child’s name?”
Alpha Went
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Chapter 9
