Demand for Divorce

Maeve's POV

The sterile, suffocating scent of the hospital room mirrored the grim reality closing in on me. Lying helplessly in the stiff hospital bed, the harsh fluorescent lights above felt like glaring interrogators. I listened in silence as Lennox Mercer, the esteemed doctor of our pack, delivered a devastating diagnosis.

"The tissue isn't regenerating, Maeve," Lennox stated. "Your inner wolf, Nyx, is hanging by a mere thread."

I gripped the thin cotton blanket. The deep abdominal wound I had suffered a month prior was a constant, burning agony. It was a brutal injury sustained during a savage rogue attack that had decimated my father’s Frost Moon Pack. Werewolf physiology dictated that even deep gashes should knit together within days. Mine was refusing to heal.

Lennox's face was etched with grave concern as he tapped his pen against my medical chart. He explained the grim mechanics of my suffering. "The blade was likely poisoned by wolfsbane. It has seeped into your bloodstream and is attacking Nyx. I need you formally admitted for intensive care immediately. We have to flush the toxins."

"I can't stay here," I replied, the crushing weight of my responsibilities anchoring me to reality.

"Maeve, this is fatal if left untreated."

"My father is trapped in a persistent coma from that exact same attack!" I shot back, fighting the tremor in my voice. "The Frost Moon Pack is barely holding on without him. I cannot afford the luxury of vanishing into a hospital ward right now. The moment they realize their Luna is bedridden, panic will spread."

Lennox frowned, clearly torn between his medical duty and his understanding of pack politics.

I leaned forward, ignoring the sharp sting in my gut. "Please, Lennox. Keep my deteriorating condition strictly confidential. I am terrified that the news would cause my already fragile family to freak out."

He blew out a heavy breath and reluctantly agreed. "My lips are sealed. But I strongly advise you to remain close to your mate. A mate's aura promotes healing. You can draw strength from him for your recovery."

A hollow, bitter smile tugged at my lips at his suggestion.

"I will try," I murmured, though we both knew it was an empty promise.

My mate, Alpha Gideon Vane, had grown cold and distant ever since a rogue named Sadie Winslow slithered into our territory. It had been an agonizing month since he last bothered to look at me, let alone offer the primal comfort of our bond.

Pushing myself out of the hospital doors, my body immediately betrayed me. The transition from the climate-controlled lobby to the stifling afternoon air triggered a catastrophic reaction in my chest.

A sudden, agonizing pain seized my sternum. It felt as though an invisible beast had buried its claws into my ribcage, gnawing at my heart from the inside out. I stumbled, unable to catch myself. I collapsed onto the cold concrete beside a flower bed, my hands clutching my shirt as I gasped for air.

A passing nurse dropped her clipboard and rushed to my side. She knelt on the pavement, her hands hovering over my trembling shoulders. "Ma'am! Talk to me. Where does it hurt?"

"My chest," I forced out, my voice a raw wheeze. I gave a broken description of the tearing sensation radiating from my heart down to my fingertips. "It's ripping apart."

The nurse froze. Her medical training gave way to a deeper, primal understanding. Her eyes welled with sympathetic pity as she looked down at me. She murmured the undeniable truth. "Werewolves do not suffer from heart attacks. The excruciating heartache means your mate is breaking our sacred mate bond."

The realization hit me like a physical blow. The agony wasn't just a symptom of my failing health; it was the visceral consequence of ultimate betrayal. Gideon was having sex with Sadie. He was physically claiming another woman, forcing our spiritual tether to snap.

"Don't move. I am getting a wheelchair," the nurse insisted, her voice tight with worry.

Deaf to her protests, I forced my weak, trembling body up from the ground. I pushed her hands away, driven by a dark need for closure. I allowed the agonizing tug of the fraying mate connection to guide my heavy steps. Every movement sent fresh waves of torment through my veins, but I dragged myself all the way to the border of the Iron Fang Pack.

I leaned heavily against the rough bark of an ancient oak tree to keep from collapsing onto the forest floor. Through the clearing, I witnessed a tableau that shattered whatever remained of my numb, bleeding heart.

Gideon and Sadie were seated intimately on the lush green grass. The afternoon sun framed them in a warm, golden glow. Her head rested comfortably and possessively on his broad shoulder, her fingers trailing lazily over his arm. A few yards away, a young boy frolicked happily, chasing an insect through the weeds.

It was a sickening domestic illusion.

After I had tragically lost our baby due to his neglect. After I had nearly bled out fighting for my life to protect my bloodline. My mate was joyfully playing house with a rogue and her child.

Summoning every ounce of my remaining dignity, I pushed away from the tree. I steadied my ragged breathing, stepped out of the shadows, and let my icy voice shatter their serene, sickening illusion.

"Alpha Gideon, let's divorce."

Sadie let out a gasp. She shrank back against him, clutching his shirt as if I were the villain invading their sanctuary. Gideon’s posture stiffened. He slowly, deliberately rose to his towering height, casting a long shadow over the grass. He fixed his cold, predatory gaze upon me, his eyes devoid of any warmth.

He sneered, a cruel twist of his lips challenging my authority. "A divorce won't happen until I decide to reject you first. Since when do you call the shots?"

Desperate for any funds to salvage my father's failing pack, I buried the crushing agony in my chest. I masked my physical exhaustion with a flawless facade of pure indifference.

"I will agree to your terms," I coldly replied, meeting his hostile stare head-on. "Provided the financial settlement satisfies me."

Gideon's lip curled in a disgusted sneer. He took a menacing step forward, the muscle in his jaw ticking with rage. "Now I see why you want out. You only care about the money."

I refused to offer him a shred of explanation for my desperation. I would not justify my need to save my father, nor would I beg for his understanding.

I simply retorted, "Whatever I ask for would be far too light a punishment for an Alpha who so callously betrayed his fated mate."

Closing the distance between us with lethal grace, Gideon loomed over my frail frame. His sheer size threatened to suffocate me, his aura heavy with dominance and unchecked anger. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper as he delivered his final strike.

"Betrayed?" he declared. "Maeve, you don't deserve to be my Luna at all."