The Annulment Papers

Roman tightly held onto a fragile-acting Celia, his large frame trembling with uncontrollable anger at the thought that Maeve tried to murder his mate. He stared at the sterile walls of the pack hospital room, his chest heaving with every jagged breath.

Playing her victim role to flawless perfection, Celia buried her face against his chest. "Roman, it hurts," she murmured weakly. "I shouldn't have followed her. I know that now. I just wanted to understand."

Roman clenched his jaw, stroking her hair. "You did nothing wrong. She pushed you."

Celia sniffled, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "There is something else," she whispered, her voice cracking as she dropped a calculated, devastating lie. "Please don't be angry with me for keeping this."

"Tell me," Roman said, adjusting his hold to meet her gaze.

Celia took a shuddering breath. "I have known you were my mate for over two years. I planned to find you. But on the night of your birthday celebration... I was abducted."

Roman's heart slammed against his ribs. The revelation hit him like a physical blow. He had missed two years with his fated mate because she had been taken in the dark.

"They drugged me," Celia continued, crying heavily. "I couldn't move. But I could hear. I heard a woman's voice ordering the captors to take me far away and sell me."

Roman froze, the blood draining from his face.

"Today, when I confronted Maeve about this audio memory, I realized it was her," Celia choked out, sobbing. "I asked her why she did it. And that is when she purposefully pushed me down the stairs."

A suffocating rage clawed its way up Roman's throat. He was horrified by the fabricated revelation. Maeve had intentionally orchestrated their separation. She had kidnapped his mate, manipulated him into a marriage, and today, she nearly killed Celia twice.

Convinced he had been played for a fool and maliciously manipulated into their marriage, Roman's fury eclipsed every other emotion he ever held for his wife.

Constraining his dark rage, Roman laid her back against the pillows. "Get some rest. I need to take care of something."

He turned away, missing the deeply satisfied smile she hid as he walked out.

Roman stormed down the corridor and dialed his Beta. "Dom," he barked. "Prepare marriage annulment documents. Right now. I am divorcing her."

He ended the call, climbed into his SUV, and drove aggressively into the pitch-black night, his tires screeching on the asphalt.

**MAEVE**

I was just settling into a restless sleep on the massive bed when the doors swung open with a deafening crack.

I jolted awake as Roman stormed into the room. Without a word, he marched to the side of the bed and flung a blue document onto the sheets.

"Sign this," he barked, handing down an order that made my blood run cold.

My hands shook as I picked up the file. The bedside lamp illuminated the bold, black words stamped across the top: **Marriage Annulment**.

My heart sank into a bottomless abyss. The air left my lungs in a painful rush. "Roman," I breathed. "You are divorcing me?"

"Celia is my mate. We are getting married officially next week," he stated coldly. "You have until morning to pack your things and leave. The rejection ceremony will take place tomorrow."

The casual cruelty tore through my chest. "Do you love her?" I desperately asked, clutching the papers. "Did you ever even come to like me? Was any of this real to you?"

Roman retorted with dripping disgust. "You were merely convenient. That is all you ever were. At least, that is what I thought before I realized what a monster you are."

"A monster?" I echoed.

"Don't play dumb!" Roman roared. "I know it was all your plot! You hired those men two years ago! You orchestrated her abduction, hovered around me while I was drunk, and yesterday you attempted murder!"

I shot out of bed, the annulment papers tumbling to the floor. I shook my head in disbelief. "No! I never pushed Celia! She threw herself down those stairs, Roman! She is lying to you! I know nothing about an abduction!"

"Silence!" Roman roared.

He lunged forward, shoving me backward and pinning me against the cold wall. His fingers dug into my arm, bruising the muscle to the bone. I gasped, struggling against his grip, but his eyes were feral with unbridled hatred.

"You played me," he hissed. "You purposely got me drunk on the night of my coming-of-age ceremony. You drugged me that night to force me into your bed, didn't you?"

My breath hitched. The memory of that night crashed over me. I hadn't drugged him, but I hadn't stopped him when the alcohol blurred the lines. Overwhelmed by guilt for the drunken night we shared, I dropped my head. Hot tears flooded my eyes, spilling over my cheeks. I had no defense.

Roman scoffed, releasing his grip so fast I stumbled to the floor.

"I will spare your life solely out of respect for your late father," Roman coldly declared. "But you must be gone by morning."

Knowing the situation was hopeless, I crawled forward, picked up a pen, and signed the papers.

Roman snatched the file from the ground and strode out of the room.

"Roman, wait!" I scrambled to my feet.

I ran outside into the freezing cold night air, the sharp gravel biting into my bare feet. Desperately chasing his departing car down the driveway, my lungs burned.

"I signed it!" I cried out, my voice echoing over the roar of the engine. "I hope you are happy!"

He merely took the files and disappeared into the dark, leaving me alone.

I spent a sleepless, tear-soaked night packing my belongings into several large suitcases. I folded my clothes mechanically, leaving behind the expensive dresses and jewelry he had bought me during our marriage. By the time the morning sun peeked over the horizon, my bags were lined up by the door.

Winston, the elderly pack butler, walked into the room carrying a silver tray. He offered a grim, quiet comfort.

"Your car is ready, ma'am," Winston said softly. "It is a tragedy, but finding a fated mate is a powerful thing. It is fortunate you aren't pregnant."

I paused, my hand resting on the zipper of my duffel bag. "What do you mean?"

Winston stood stiffly. "An Alpha's child from a rejected mate carries a brutal fate. The pack council and the Alpha would demand it be forcefully aborted to protect the bloodline. If, by some miracle, you escaped and gave birth, the child would be shunned and branded as illegitimate. They would never allow a threat to the true mate's offspring to exist."

A cold chill raced down my spine. Winston bowed his head and excused himself, leaving me alone with the heavy weight of his words.

Seconds later, Hilda rushed in. She crossed the room and took my cold hands in hers with deep concern.

"Oh, my lady," Hilda murmured, scanning my pale face. "You look so sick."

"I am just tired, Hilda," I whispered.

Hilda frowned, pointing out something I had missed. "Ma'am, you haven't requested your usual ginseng soup for your menstrual cramps in weeks."

I blinked, my exhausted brain struggling to process her words.

"You always have terrible pain," Hilda pressed on. "You ask for the soup every month like clockwork. But it has been weeks. And you have been throwing up in the mornings."

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

I stepped back, my heart hammering a terrifying rhythm against my ribs. I started counting back the weeks in my head. The drunken night. The delayed cycle. Connecting my recent severe morning sickness and crushing exhaustion, the puzzle pieces rapidly snapped together.

The terrifying truth crystallized in my mind.

I wasn't just stressed. I was late.

Winston's grim warning echoed loudly in my ears. *Forcefully aborted. Shunned. Illegitimate.*

I looked up at Hilda, my face masked in unadulterated horror.