After I Torched Alive, My Alpha Went crazy novel Chapter 55

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, very sure. Now, let’s focus, people."

As the laughter died down, I noticed a fleeting look of sadness in Issca’s eyes from where he stood by the door. He quickly masked it with a grin, but I caught it. I didn’t dwell on it, though. There was work to be done, and I had to keep my focus. I was the alpha now, and my pack came first.

The meeting proceeded smoothly after that. We discussed logistics, future plans, and how we were going to manage resources now that we were independent. The pack members asked questions, and I answered them confidently, feeling the trust they had placed in me. By the end of the meeting, everyone seemed reassured, and I dismissed them with a sense of accomplishment.

As I stepped out of the room, Issca was waiting with Cyrus in his arms. The little one was giggling, his small hands clinging to Issca’s shirt. My heart warmed at the sight. Issca had always been great with kids.

"Ready for the playground, Cy?" I asked, reaching out for him.

Cyrus nodded eagerly, practically bouncing in Issca’s arms. "Playground, Mama!"

We headed toward the playground together, with a few of Issca’s pack kids tagging along. It was the perfect day for it—sunlight streaming through the trees, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, and the laughter of children echoing through the air.

The playground wasn’t too crowded, just a few families scattered around, pushing their kids on swings or helping them down the slides. I could already see Cyrus’ face light up at the sight of the jungle gym and the sandbox in the distance. His tiny hand slipped from mine as he ran ahead, his excitement almost palpable.

Issca walked beside me, watching the kids scatter to their respective corners of the playground. He leaned back against a tree, folding his arms with a content smile on his face. "They grow up so fast, don’t they?" he said, his voice soft, almost wistful.

I nodded, my eyes following Cyrus as he made a beeline for the sandbox. "Yeah, faster than we expect sometimes." There was a peacefulness to watching him play, the way he carefully picked up a toy truck and started pushing it through the sand, creating little tracks as if it were the most important job in the world.

It was moments like these that made everything else—pack politics, responsibilities, and the constant worry—fade into the background, if only for a while.

As we were walking, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen—Vesta. I answered quickly, motioning for Cyrus to go ahead and play. "Hey, Vesta, what’s up?"

"Hold on a second, Vesta," I said hurriedly, not bothering to hang up as I rushed toward Cyrus.

Cyrus was on the verge of tears, but he didn’t cry. That stubborn resilience of his—I wondered where he got that from. I reached him just as a sharp, high-pitched voice cut through the playground.

"What is this nasty, bad kid doing? Why are you bullying my son?!"

I looked up to see a woman storming toward us, her face red in anger. Her features were sharp, and an ugly scar ran across her cheek, only adding to the fierceness in her eyes. It was Sienna. The same weird and rude Sienna, acting the same bad way even at a place like a playground for kids.

Before I could even get a word in, she yanked Asher to her side with one hand and with the other, she violently shoved Cyrus to the ground. My heart dropped as I saw my son stumble backward, hitting the ground hard.