Alpha's Regret After Putting Me In Jail novel Chapter 131

Chapter 131: A Calculated Confrontation

Chapter 131: A Calculated Confrontation

(Celeste’s POV)

The interior of Marcus’s black SUV was as sleek and opulent as one would expect from royalty. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence between us as the vehicle glided through

the outskirts of Silver Creek territory.

I could practically feel Marcus’s curiosity growing, though he tried to mask it with an air of

disinterest. His violet eyes darted toward me periodically, holding a glimmer of suspicion as

he languidly leaned back against the plush leather seat. His fingers tapped idly against the

door, a steady rhythm that betrayed his impatience.

“The Silver Creek tavern?” he finally questioned, his tone laced with both confusion and faint

irritation. His gaze sharpened as it locked onto mine. “What game are you playing, Little

Moon?”

I met his penetrating stare with an expression of serene calm, my posture relaxed but deliberate. “No game,” I replied simply, glancing out the window as the tavern’s familiar outline came into view. “I thought we could have a drink first.”

A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. He didn’t bother hiding it.

“Is that so?” Marcus asked, his voice dropping ever so slightly. His wolf stirred beneath the surface, radiating authority, though his curiosity kept him seated. “You’ve piqued my interest, Celeste. But I doubt you’d suggest this… without some ulterior motive.”

His words were barbed, probing, as if daring me to reveal my hand too early. My lips curled into a faint smile, one that offered no answers but hinted just enough to keep him intrigued.

Within moments, the SUV came to a smooth stop outside the bustling Silver Creek Tavern. The establishment stood at the intersection of several pack territories, a rare neutral ground where wolves of varying ranks and allegiances mingled without outright hostility.

Marcus hesitated as he glanced out the window, his expression visibly tightening at the sight of the common surroundings. The air of disdain in his demeanor was almost tangible, but he didn’t voice a complaint. His pride wouldn’t allow him to show discomfort, especially not in

front of me.

The moment we stepped inside, the energy of the tavern hit me–a mix of laughter, casual conversation, and the undercurrent of tension that always lingered when wolves from different

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Chapter 131: A Calculated Confr…

packs shared the same space.

Marcus’s presence drew immediate attention, his royal aura impossible to ignore.

Conversations quieted briefly as several heads turned his way, assessing, acknowledging, and ultimately lowering in submission.

But it wasn’t Marcus who kept my focus.

In the farthest corner of the tavern sat Jake Hamilton, better known to his thousands of social

media followers as “WolfByte.” His unmistakable voice, both animated and confident, carried through the space as he live–streamed from his phone.

“…and according to sources close to the royal quarter,” Jake was saying into the camera, his

voice dripping with intrigue, “this mysterious Alpha’s injury changed everything. The battle left him severely weakened, though the full details remain unclear…”

My steps slowed deliberately, my ears tuned to every word. Beside me, Marcus froze.

The tension in his body was immediate–shoulders taut, jaw clenched. His royal wolf bristled

beneath the surface as his violet eyes locked onto Jake like a predator spotting prey.

Though Jake refrained from naming names, the story was unmistakable. He was talking about Marcus–the Alpha King’s nephew, a once–feared royal wolf whose lingering injury had

destabilized his once–lofty position.

“…imagine it,” Jake continued, leaning closer to his screen for dramatic effect. “A wolf of royal blood, considered one of the most dominant in the kingdom, forced to rely on others for

protection.”

A low growl escaped Marcus’s throat. His claws extended slightly, drawing faint marks on the

wooden tabletop where he gripped the edge.

When he shifted, likely intending to storm toward Jake, I tilted my head and spoke softly.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Royal Highness,” I said lightly, my tone almost conversational.

“Unless you’d like to confirm every word he’s saying.”

Slowly, Marcus turned to me. The intensity in his violet eyes was like a coiled storm, violent

and unforgiving.

“You,” he hissed, his voice low but venomous. “You orchestrated this.”

I didn’t flinch under his accusatory stare. Instead, I signaled a passing waitress with a casual wave, ordering two glasses of moon–blessed wine.

“The blogger does have a certain knack for storytelling, doesn’t he?” I mused aloud, ignoring

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Marcus’s clenched fists and seething wolf energy. “The way he builds suspense… it’s almost

admirable.”

Marcus leaned in slightly, his tension palpable as his wolf snarled silently in my direction. Though he kept his volume low, his next words were as sharp as a blade.

“What’s your angle, Celeste?”

The waitress returned with the wine, her nervous glance at Marcus lingering before she hurried off. I took a sip, savoring the subtle burn against my tongue.

“Simple,” I said, placing the glass down with deliberate care. “Stay away from me.”

The sheer audacity of my statement made Marcus’s wolf surge forward, barely held back by his increasingly fragile composure. His claws scraped audibly against the tabletop.

“And if I don’t?” he challenged, his tone layered with unspoken threats.

A small, cold smile curved my lips. I didn’t answer immediately, letting the implication of my silence settle into the space between us. Then, leaning forward slightly, I added, “Stay away from me–and any other wolf you might consider dragging to your Dark Forest den.”

Marcus stilled, his violet eyes narrowing with dangerous calculation.

“And why,” he began slowly, deliberately, “would I listen to you?”

I met his gaze head–on, my own wolf calm but coiled with poised intensity. “Because if I hear of even one incident, your little secret will be trending on every pack social media platform by

morning.”

For a moment, the only sound between us was the faint clinking of glasses in the distance. Then, realization dawned in Marcus’s eyes, followed swiftly by a flash of fury.

“You’re bluffing,” he said, though his voice carried a faint edge of doubt.

“Am I?” I countered smoothly. “I’ve paid every major wolf blogger and influencer across the territory. One word from me, and this secret“-I gestured subtly toward Jake-“becomes public knowledge. Imagine the consequences, Royal Highness.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened visibly, his expression darkening further as he considered the weight

of

my words. The injury Jake described wasn’t just a matter of pride–it was Marcus’s Achilles‘ heel, the c***k in his armor that could bring his carefully constructed image crashing down,

“You have no idea the fire you’re playing with, Celeste,” he warned softly, his voice lethal.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” I replied evenly. “But the difference between you and me, Marcus, is I’ve

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already endured the flames. There’s little left for me to lose.”

His fists clenched further, the vein in his temple pulsing as he refrained from snapping the

table in half.

“How long have you been planning this?” he asked finally.

“Since your first ‘invitation‘ to the Dark Forest,” I said, my tone cool. “Did you really believe I wouldn’t find a way to protect myself?”

His wolf’s snarl echoed faintly in the quiet of the tavern, but restrained violence was all he could manage. He was cornered.

“And if I agree to your terms?” he bit out, his voice laced with venom. “What assurances do I have that you’ll keep this… theoretical?”

“As long as you behave,” I said lightly, leaning back in my chair. “No more private torture sessions, no more hunting grounds. Stay away from me, and that little secret stays buried.”

I watched as the proud, sadistic predator across from me realized he’d been thoroughly outmaneuvered. The helpless rage in his eyes was a sight I wouldn’t soon forget.

“You’ve grown fangs, Little Moon,” Marcus remarked coldly, his usual arrogance replaced by

fury.

I smiled faintly, finishing the last sip of my wine. “Survival does that to prey.”

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