After Divorce, My Alpha Husband Begs Me to Return

White. Everything was white.

The sterile walls, the doctor’s pristine lab coat, and the blood that had drained from my own face.

“Moonbane Curse.”

The two words left the doctor’s lips like four icy daggers, expertly aimed, and they plunged directly into my heart, freezing my blood and breath in an instant.

I stared at him blankly, watching my own hollow-eyed reflection in his sympathetic gaze.

My voice was a dry, rasping thing, as if I were clawing the words across sandpaper.

The doctor pushed the thin, yet impossibly heavy, diagnostic report across the desk toward me.

He paused, but the cruel word still fell.

“…month.”

Boom.

The world exploded in my ears, then immediately collapsed into a dead, ringing silence. I couldn't hear anything anymore. I could only see the doctor's lips moving, watch as the room began to warp and spin, threatening to drag me into a bottomless abyss.

My Chloe. My little angel who would sneak into my bed at dawn, nuzzling my cheek with her soft face and whispering,  My little sprite who would chase butterflies across the meadow, her laughter so bright and clear it could light up the entire forest…

She was going to die?

A violent, tearing agony ripped through my chest. Tears flooded my eyes, hot and uncontrollable, blurring the world into a watery mess. I clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling the sob that threatened to tear itself from my throat.

No.

I could not fall apart. My daughter was waiting for me.

I sucked in a sharp, deep breath. The cold, antiseptic-laced air was a painful sting in my lungs, but it shocked my spinning mind back into a sliver of clarity.

I lifted my head, my reddened eyes locking onto the doctor’s.

The doctor flinched, startled by the terrifying light that flared in my gaze, before shaking his head in grim sorrow.  He hesitated, as if weighing whether to offer me a hope so slim it was almost a cruelty.

My body lunged forward, a drowning woman spotting a piece of driftwood.

“First, find the legendary artifact, the Heart of the Moon. But it exists only in myth. No one has seen it for thousands of years.”

My heart sank.

“And the second?”

The doctor’s gaze dropped, his voice lowering.

Close blood-relative… an Alpha of the purest and most powerful lineage…

A name, like a bolt of black lightning, tore through the chaos in my mind.

Ethan Blackwood.

My husband, the reigning Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack, and… Chloe’s biological father.

He was also the man who hated me more than anyone else in this world.

A sharp sting bloomed from my fingertips. I glanced down to see my nails had dug so deeply into my palm that they’d drawn blood.

Pain is the finest catalyst for clarity.

The scalding liquid in my eyes miraculously evaporated, leaving behind two chips of burning ice.

I rose slowly to my feet. I picked up the death sentence disguised as a report and, in a voice so cold and calm it was unrecognizable even to me, I said to the doctor:

“I understand. Thank you.”

Without another word, without a moment’s hesitation, I turned and walked out of the office.

Goodbye to the Amelia who cried, who pleaded, who broke her own heart over a man’s careless glance.

From this day forward, I was only a mother. A mother who would become a devil to save her child.

***

The Alpha’s Council Chamber, the power center of the Crescent Moon Pack.

The massive, circular obsidian table reflected the cold, majestic light of the enchanted chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Alpha Ethan Blackwood sat at the head, a flicker of impatience on his devastatingly handsome face as he listened to an elder’s long-winded report.

Beside him sat a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in a high-fashion designer suit—Sophia. She was the picture of elegance, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. She was here as his  her presence in this chamber, meant only for the highest echelons of the pack, a casual and constant humiliation to me, the pack’s Luna.

“…Therefore, I believe that expanding our territory north and absorbing the lands of the Howling Moon Pack is our most pressing priority…”

BAM!

A thunderous crack echoed as the chamber’s heavy oak doors were violently thrown open.

The room fell instantly silent.

Every werewolf present—including the high-ranking, powerful elders—stared in shock toward the entrance. The pack’s most elite Alpha Guards were attempting to block the intrusion, their faces a mixture of desperation and disbelief.

And then, under the weight of every stunned gaze, I walked in.

I was still in the simple dress I had left the house in, my hair slightly disheveled, my face likely still bearing the faint tracks of dried tears. In this solemn chamber of power, I was a discordant note, an unwelcome invader.

Ethan’s brows slammed together in a thunderous scowl.

His voice was laced with the irritation of being interrupted and a clear, undisguised disgust.

The elders exchanged uneasy glances, whispering amongst themselves. Beside him, Sophia elegantly lifted her coffee cup, giving me a look that perfectly blended pity, contempt, and the distinct pleasure of watching a show.

I ignored them all.

My gaze, like a cold, sharp arrow locked on its target, was fixed solely on Ethan.

I crossed the long chamber. The sound of my heels clicking on the marble floor was unnaturally loud in the dead silence, each step landing on the taut nerves of everyone present.

I walked right up to the head of the table. Staring into the furious green fire of Ethan’s eyes, I raised my hand.

SLAP!

The thin report—my daughter’s death sentence—was slammed onto the obsidian tabletop in front of him.

Ethan shot to his feet, a crushing wave of Alpha dominance rolling off him, meant to bring me to my knees.

His roar echoed through the chamber, the raw humiliation in his voice making several of the elders wince.

The old me would have crumbled under his aura, trembling and pale.

But not today.

I just stood there, motionless, letting the force that could make a lesser wolf submit wash over me. I didn’t even blink. My heart was a frozen sea, and no storm he could conjure would ever make a ripple there again.

I lifted my chin and met his furious glare. My voice was low, but it cut through the air like a shard of ice, each word perfectly, chillingly, clear.

I said, using his full name. There was no wife’s warmth, only the cold formality of a stranger.

A collective gasp swept through the room.

Ethan’s pupils constricted, a flicker of shock in his rage, but he immediately dismissed it as another one of my schemes.

he sneered, the contempt in his eyes almost a physical thing.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of finishing.

I cut him off, my voice dropping even lower, colder, as I played my final, desperate card.

“Either you save her with your blood.”

I paused, watching his face darken further, and I let a slow, merciless smile curve my lips. It held no warmth, only the promise of ruin.

“Or I’ll find another Alpha who will.”