Betrayed And Reborn Ex Husband’s Regret

Unwanted By The Alpha Heir, Marked By The Northern King

Evvie Foreman

I had been courting the Alpha heir for two years, waiting for the day he would finally propose and make me his Luna. But instead of a ring, he calmly informed me that he was using my family's massive financial donation to buy a noble title for my cousin, Carson. "Carson needs this title to be a suitable match for my future mate," he said, expecting me to gratefully accept being relegated to the shadows as a secondary mate. When I returned home, my own father and grandmother didn't defend me. They praised Carson and demanded I accept the humiliation, claiming my mother's vast merchant wealth belonged entirely to their Pack. When my mother and I refused to yield, my father threatened to sever their mate bond and exile my brother and me as hunted, Packless Rogues. For eighteen years, my family's consortium had funded their lavish lifestyle, yet they treated us like nothing more than a vault to be plundered. The man I loved and the family I trusted were willing to destroy my life and my mother's dignity just to feed their own greed and arrogant pride. I didn't shed a single tear. I immediately initiated the liquidation protocol, recalling every asset we had ever loaned them and stripping their grand manor bare to the walls. Then, I packed a priceless mythril sword and sent a letter to the one man who could help me crush them all: the ruthless Wolf of the North.

Werewolf Royalty Female-Centered Dark Romance

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A violent cough tore through Annabelle's chest, throwing her off the edge of the rotting mattress. She hit the floor hard. The impact sent a sharp spike of pain through her collapsed lungs, cutting off her oxygen. She gasped, her fingers digging into the blood-stained bedsheets, tearing at the cheap fabric as she fought for a single breath of the freezing San Francisco air.

A sudden vibration rattled against the floorboards.

The harsh, generic ringtone of her cracked phone sliced through the dead silence of the apartment. The sound made her frail body flinch.

She gritted her teeth and dragged her upper body toward the device. A rough wooden splinter from the unfinished floorboards sliced into her index finger. A thick line of dark red blood smeared across the wood as she pulled herself forward.

Her blurred vision focused on the shattered screen. The caller ID read Axel.

The memory of her past love for him instantly twisted into a violent cramp in her stomach. Acid burned the back of her throat.

Her trembling, bruised finger tapped the green accept button.

The popping of champagne corks and the loud chatter of a high-society wedding instantly flooded the cramped, freezing room.

"Are you still breathing, Annabelle?" Axel's voice came through the speaker. His tone was cold, dripping with the arrogant charity of a Silicon Valley billionaire.

Annabelle opened her mouth to demand where her trust fund had gone, but her ruined vocal cords only produced a broken, wet wheeze.

"You really thought you were a partner, didn't you?" Axel chuckled. The sound was a physical blow to her ribs. "You were just a naive ATM. A stepping stone."

The brutal truth made her heart contract so hard it felt like a fist squeezing her organs.

She grabbed the plastic water cup beside her and hurled it at the wall. It shattered. A piece of hard plastic bounced back and sliced a shallow cut across her hollow cheek. She didn't feel the sting.

"That illegal drug scandal we pinned on you is sealed," Axel declared over the phone. "Your social execution is complete. There is no way back."

A wave of pure humiliation crashed over her. Her stomach heaved. She lurched forward and vomited a mouthful of black blood. The dark liquid soaked into the collar of her threadbare shirt, warm and sticky against her freezing skin.

A familiar, sweet laugh echoed from the receiver. Fay had taken the phone.

"Anna-banana," Fay cooed, using the childhood nickname that now sounded like a death threat. "Do you like my dress? It's the haute couture gown you designed for your own wedding. It fits me so much better."

The jealousy and betrayal fed a fire that consumed the last of Annabelle's sanity.

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