Divorcing My Arrogant And Controlling Alpha

Ciara Ford POV:

"Get out! Alpha Darius is waiting for you outside."

The heavy metal door of the isolation ward was shoved open.

Brenda, a pack nurse, stood in the doorway, clicking her tongue in disgust as she met my dead, hollow eyes. "Five days in the pack's psychiatric hold and you're still playing the victim? You were fierce enough when you attacked Lady Geneva."

I walked toward her, my face devoid of any emotion. "I'm still fierce enough to rip your throat out now. Want to try me?"

Brenda rolled her eyes, but she wisely clamped her mouth shut, intimidated by the lingering aura of a Luna.

A cold smirk played on my lips as I walked out step by step, memories flooding my mind.

Five days ago, I discovered that my mate and husband, Darius, was keeping another she-wolf. Blinded by rage and betrayal, I had slapped the woman hard across the face. "Are you that desperate for a male? You have to leech off someone else's mate?"

The woman was beautiful, her face stained with pathetic, delicate tears. "Luna, you've misunderstood! Darius and I aren't what you think!"

Despite her words, she shrank into Darius's embrace, her scent mixing with his. "Darius just took pity on me, that's why he let me stay in the pack house. If you hate me that much, I'll pack my things and leave the territory right now. Please don't be mad at the Alpha..."

Darius held Geneva gently, his eyes-usually so warm for me-now completely devoid of affection. "You're acting crazy, Ciara! Apologize to her right now!"

I almost laughed out loud, pointing a trembling finger at him. "Crazy? You gave the suite meant for our mating ceremony to this she-wolf, and you're draining the pack funds to shower her with gifts. And you're telling me I'm crazy?"

Seeing me cause a scene in front of the pack members, Darius's jaw clenched. "Ciara's wolf has gone feral. Lock her in the isolation ward until she cools down!"

I was immediately restrained by his enforcers, unable to break free.

Just before they dragged me away, I caught from the corner of my eye Darius taking off his expensive coat and draping it over Geneva's shoulders. His voice was sickeningly gentle. "Put this on. Don't catch a cold."

Stepping out of the clinic now, I saw Darius standing a few yards away.

He looked exactly as I remembered. Tall, muscular, with pitch-black hair and eyes like a stormy sea. Clad in a tailored suit, his dominant Alpha aura filled the narrow hallway, naturally demanding submission from everyone around him.

Seeing my pale face and cracked lips, his brows furrowed. Out of habit, he took off his suit jacket and tried to drape it over my shoulders. "Why do you look so pale? Put this on. I'll have the kitchen make you some hot broth when we get back."

I took a step back in disgust, dodging his touch. I could smell Geneva's cheap floral perfume on his clothes.

Darius looked stunned, meeting my icy, loveless gaze.

He had no idea that I had been reborn.

The nurses in the pack clinic knew perfectly well I wasn't feral, yet they locked me up for five days. Why would they bother giving me decent treatment?

A thin blanket, stale bread, and cold tap water. Even the meager soup they brought me was freezing.

In my past life, I had developed a severe fever before I was even released.

The stigma of being thrown into the isolation ward ruined my reputation as Luna. Fueled by Geneva's manipulative rumors, the entire pack believed I was mentally unstable.

Back then, I naively thought Darius would feel at least a shred of remorse or heartache. But my naive hopes were reduced to ashes-literally.

Driven to the brink of actual madness by the pack's isolation and Geneva's relentless psychological torment, I was trapped when a sudden, inexplicable fire engulfed the Pack House. Geneva and I were both caught in the flames. I watched, paralyzed by despair and smoke, as Darius burst through the burning doors. He didn't even look my way. He scooped a weeping Geneva into his arms and carried her to safety, leaving me behind to be burned alive in the roaring inferno.

I later learned Geneva had started the fire herself, a final, ruthless move to get rid of me for good.

Until my last agonizing breath in that fiery grave, he never spared me a single glance.

Now, given a second chance at life, I slowly raised my head. My eyes met his, and a faint, chilling curve appeared on my lips.

Darius... keep your titleand your mistress. I don't want your love anymore.

In this life, I'm claiming my freedom-and building my own empire.