Divorcing My Arrogant And Controlling Alpha

Ciara Ford POV:

"She is exhausted from taking care of a sick child! What's the big deal if she wears a piece of your clothing?! When did you become such a vicious shrew?!"

My Alpha mate Darius protectively cradled his weeping mistress Geneva in his arms, unleashing his crushing aura to force me to my knees to apologize to her.

And all of this was simply because I slapped the woman who had hijacked my wedding room and put on my clothes.

That wedding room was painstakingly decorated by me, and that piece of clothing was the sexy lingerie he gifted me for our one-year anniversary!

When I refused to yield, he ordered his guards to drag me into the freezing psychiatric isolation ward.

"Lock her up for five days! Let her starve in the dark until she crawls out begging for forgiveness!"

He didn't know that in my previous life, I had died in that exact cell.

I had been forcefully injected with hallucinogens and chained to a bed.

When a roaring fire engulfed the building, he ignored my desperate screams, and scooped up his fake-crying mistress before rushing out.

I was left to burn alive, smelling my own roasting flesh.

Reborn on the exact day I was locked away, I didn't struggle.

Five days later, he and his mistress stood outside the door, waiting for me to grovel.

Instead, I smashed a flawless mental health evaluation and a signed "Mate Rejection Form" right into his hypocritical face!

"Keep the house, and keep the trash." I coldly watched him drop to his knees, gasping in agony as our soul bond violently severed.

He scoffed, certain that an abandoned she-wolf would eventually starve on the streets.

He had no idea that I already held the deadly secrets of his corrupt officials and used them to extort my first pot of gold.

Next, I would build my own business empire, monopolize the pack's supply chain, and buy the absolute loyalty of his entire army.

When his proud Alpha throne was completely hollowed out by me, I couldn't wait to see how he would protect his precious little parasite!

--

A sharp, heavy slap echoed like a gunshot through the spacious corridor.

The sheer force of my strike sent Geneva crashing heavily onto the polished marble floor.

A trickle of blood instantly seeped from the corner of her mouth.

"Geneva!" Darius roared.

My fated mate, the Alpha of our pack, immediately dropped to one knee, protectively cradling the weeping woman in his arms.

To punish my insolence, Darius mercilessly unleashed his dominant Alpha aura.

That violent, invisible force slammed into my chest like a concrete wall.

My bones groaned under the crushing weight, and the thick, metallic taste of blood instantly welled up in my throat.

Fighting through the agonizing pain, I looked past his self-righteous, protective stance.

Through the half-open oak door, I could clearly see the exclusive wedding room-a room I had poured six months of my blood and sweat into preparing for our upcoming mating ceremony-now completely defiled.

The air reeked of Geneva's cheap, synthetic perfume, and her son's toys were carelessly strewn across my expensive, custom-made rug.

But what pierced my eyes the most was the sexy silk lingerie Geneva was currently wearing, the very fabric Darius was now clutching so tenderly.

It was the anniversary gift Darius had given me to celebrate our first year of marriage!

My husband had taken my heart and soul, my sacred wedding room, and even the intimate anniversary gift he gave me, and casually handed them all over to his mistress.

"Ciara, have you lost your damn mind?!"

Darius's furious roar snapped my attention back.

His glowing golden eyes locked onto me, his handsome face twisted in absolute rage.

Before I could even open my mouth, Geneva shrank pitifully into his broad chest.

"Luna, please, I beg you, stop hitting me!" she sobbed, trembling all over like a fragile autumn leaf. "I'll take off your lingerie right now! And I won't take over your job at the logistics center either... Darius only let me stay here temporarily because my baby has asthma and needs a south-facing sunroom. It's all my fault, please, whatever you do, don't be angry with the Alpha..."

She cried her lungs out, playing the role of the perfect victim flawlessly.

Yet, as she buried her face in Darius's chest, she tilted her head just a fraction.

From an angle completely hidden from Darius, she looked at me through her fake tears and flashed a vicious, triumphant smirk.

Darius was completely blind to her true colors.

He only felt the trembling of the woman in his arms, and the look he shot me instantly sharpened into icy blades.

"Look at yourself, acting like a hysterical shrew!" Darius bellowed, his tone dripping with sickening self-righteousness. "Geneva is exhausted and weak from taking care of a sick child. So what if she wears that piece of lingerie? Silk is good for her recovery! Would it kill you to let her borrow a piece of clothing for a few days?!"

He glared down at me from his high horse, as if I were the ultimate villain. "And the manager job! As my Luna, you shouldn't even be working in such a disgraceful place. Why must you fight a starving single mother over such a pitiful position?! I gave those things to her to demonstrate your tolerance and mercy to the whole pack, to help you build your prestige! But you? Not only are you ungrateful, but you stand here haggling over pennies like a vulgar street fishwife! When did you become so selfish, so obsessed with money?!"

Listening to his utterly absurd, gaslighting moral blackmail, a chilling, dead silence washed over me.

I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth and slowly drew a silk handkerchief from my pocket.

I wiped every single finger meticulously, as if I had just touched some infectious garbage, and then let the handkerchief flutter lightly down onto Geneva's trembling body.

Seeing my look of utter disgust, Darius acted as if he had suffered a grave insult.

His fury ignited.

"Pick it up!" he roared.

His Alpha pressure suddenly doubled, slamming down on my shoulders like a mountain, attempting to force me to my knees.

"Put away your sickening arrogance! Pick up that handkerchief immediately, get on your knees, and apologize to her until she forgives you!"

The immense pressure made my kneecaps pop and creak under the strain, but I bit down on my lip so hard it bled.

I would rather my legs snap in half than bow even an inch.

"Apologize?" I spoke coldly. Bearing the brunt of the crushing aura, my voice was so flat it dropped the temperature in the corridor to freezing. "You drain the pack's funds to support this parasite. You let a mistress wear the anniversary lingerie you gifted me and defile my wedding room. And now, under the hypocritical guise of 'doing it for my own good, ' you want to hand over the job I worked so hard to earn to her. You trample all over my blood, sweat, and tears, and you want me to kneel and apologize?"

Darius clenched his jaw, seemingly shocked that I was actually withstanding his aura. "I told you, she is just a friend! Stop this insane jealousy-"

"Keep the room," I cut him off, my voice as crisp as ice.

Darius froze. "What did you say?"

I didn't even blink, staring straight into his furious eyes. "I said, keep the room. Leave the job to her, and keep this parasite, too. I don't want them anymore. And I don't want you anymore, either."

I paused, letting my next words drop like shards of ice. "I want a divorce. I reject you."

A deathly silence fell over the corridor.

Geneva even forgot to keep up her fake sobbing.

Darius stared at me dead in the eye.

A dozen complex emotions flashed across his face before finally settling into a look of sheer mockery and absolute disbelief.

He let out a harsh, incredibly impatient sneer. "A divorce? Over a piece of clothing and a damn room, you're threatening me with a divorce?"

Darius scoffed, his voice dripping with condescending pity and ridicule, "Ciara, who do you think you're talking to? Without me, who do you think you are? An abandoned woman with no Alpha to protect her? Who else would want you but me? Did you really think playing this cheap game of 'playing hard to get' would force me to compromise and kick Geneva out? You are driven mad by jealousy. You are completely unreasonable!"

He turned his head toward the burly guards standing uneasily at the end of the hall.

"The Luna's wolf has gone completely insane," Darius issued his cold, cruel command. "Seize her and lock her in the psychiatric isolation ward! Lock her up for five days! Let her sober up in the cold, pitch-black darkness until she comes crawling on her knees, begging for my forgiveness, and realizes exactly how a proper Luna should behave!"

The guards approached me cautiously, terrified that I would put up a fight.

But I didn't struggle.

I didn't even furrow my brow.

I simply turned around and willingly walked toward that so-called prison.

Darius frowned, a flicker of unease flashing deep in his eyes, unsettled by my eerie calmness.

What Darius didn't know was that I had been reborn.

In my previous life, this exact five-day stint in psychiatric isolation marked the beginning of my descent into a living hell.

With his tacit approval, I was forcibly injected with high doses of hallucinogenic drugs.

I was stripped of my Luna title, spat on, and humiliated by the entire pack as if I were a monster.

I was driven to the very brink of a genuine mental breakdown by Geneva's endless psychological torture.

I was chained to a freezing hospital bed with thick, rusted iron chains, stripped of every last shred of human dignity.

Until the very end, when Geneva set that towering inferno.

Amidst the sea of flames, he kicked open the ward door, but without even sparing me a single glance, he scooped up Geneva-who had pretended to come "visit" me-and rushed out!

Bound tightly by the iron chains, I could only scream in agonizing despair, watching helplessly as the blazing fire slowly swallowed my legs.

I smelled the sickening stench of my own roasting flesh, burning alive until I was nothing but a charred, blackened corpse!

But this time, I would absolutely not let this tragedy repeat itself.

I stepped into the isolation ward, listening to the heavy metal door slam shut and lock behind me with a clang.

Standing in the darkness, a bone-chilling sneer curled the corners of my lips.

Enjoy your last five days of peace, Darius.

In five days, when I pushed this door open, I would personally sever this sickening bond.

I would use your blood to avenge my scorched soul from my previous life!

Ciara Ford POV:

Five days. One hundred and twenty hours. To Darius, this was the time I was supposed to spend repenting, breaking down, and ultimately surrendering in the freezing darkness.

He had no idea that these five days were my perfect staging ground.

On my very first night in that isolation cell, Vance-the pack doctor secretly bought off by Geneva-walked in with a syringe full of high-dose hallucinogens, exactly as he had in my previous life. I had been forcefully injected while caught off guard and completely heartbroken.

That single needle marked the beginning of my descent into madness, chaining me to a bed until I was burned alive.

But this time, the moment Vance stepped close, relying on my dormant werewolf strength, I lunged at him, twisted his arm violently behind his back, and snatched the syringe.

Before he could even scream, I had him pinned against the concrete wall, the lethal needle pressed dangerously against his throbbing jugular.

Using the dark secrets I knew from my previous life-his massive embezzlement of the pack's medical funds-I easily turned him into my obedient dog.

For five days, Vance dutifully reported my "severe mental breakdown" to Darius and Geneva, feeding their smug egos.

Meanwhile, in that supposedly inescapable prison, I comfortably used Vance's encrypted burner phone to contact the pack's legal notary, drafting the ultimate parting gift for my so-called mate.

When the heavy iron door finally opened, the harsh light flooded in.

I stepped out, completely unscathed, my eyes calm.

Darius stood in the corridor.

Seeing me so eerily quiet, a flicker of unease flashed across his face, but he quickly suppressed it.

His face settled into that familiar, condescending mask of a patient, misunderstood husband.

"See, Ciara? Putting you in the ward was just to give you time to cool down," he said, adjusting his expensive cuffs. "Where was your grace and tolerance as a Luna? Geneva has been through enough. I'm merely helping a childhood friend, yet you had to make a scene. Why do you have to be so paranoid?"

"Helping a friend?" I couldn't help but mock him, my voice dripping with venom. "So turning your fated mate into a certified lunatic and throwing her into a freezing cell is your way of 'helping'?"

Darius let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, looking at me as if I was the one breaking his heart. "I was protecting you from your own temper! I've already had the doctor seal the records. No one outside will know you were in the psych ward. As long as you drop this baseless jealousy and apologize to Geneva, we can put this ugly mess behind us. Why can't you understand my good intentions?"

Even hearing those exact words a second time, his sheer, unadulterated hypocrisy made my stomach churn.

I didn't bother arguing.

I just walked past him toward the exit.

A flicker of smug satisfaction crossed Darius's handsome face.

He actually thought the five days of isolation had "cured" my jealousy.

He thought he had successfully tamed his temperamental wife.

I followed him to his SUV.

Opening the door, I immediately noticed the passenger seat had been pushed far forward-adjusted perfectly for a petite woman.

Tucked in the cup holder was a tube of Geneva's cheap pink lipstick.

Without a single word, I picked up the lipstick, tossed it out the window into the dirt, and climbed into the back seat.

Darius's jaw tightened at my defiance, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, but he forced himself to play the magnanimous Alpha.

"I had Maria prepare your favorite lasagna," he said, starting the engine. "Geneva and her pup just need my protection. If you just accept her, our lives can go back to being perfect."

I closed my eyes, treating his words like the buzzing of a repulsive fly.

Returning to the massive Pack House-the place I once poured my soul into-Darius pushed open the heavy oak door.

The foyer was a total disaster.

Geneva's designer shoes were kicked off carelessly on my custom rug, and her son's toys were scattered across the marble floor.

"Ciara," he declared, looking down at me. "Now that you're back, we need to talk about the new rules of the house regarding Geneva. She will be staying in the bridal suite permanently, and you will-"

"Save your breath," I interrupted, my voice devoid of any emotion.

I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out a thick stack of documents I had Vance smuggle in for me, and slammed them hard against Darius's chest.

He instinctively caught the papers, frowning in confusion. "What is this?"

"Five days ago, you said my request for a divorce was just me 'playing hard to get'," I sneered, my voice dripping with icy absolute certainty. "These are the Formal Rejection papers, already signed by me. Along with the termination notice you so cowardly had delivered to me in the psych ward."

Darius's golden eyes widened in sheer disbelief as he stared at the bold letters on the first page.

"You thought I came back to fight over a room or a piece of lingerie?" I let out a mocking laugh, stepping back as if his very presence infected the air.

"Keep the house. And keep this pathetic parasite," I declared, looking at him like a piece of irredeemable trash. "We are completely over, Darius."

Ciara Ford POV:

Darius's mask of calm and benevolent control completely disintegrated.

Then, the physical backlash of the rejection hit us both.

A sharp, visceral agony ripped through my chest as the sacred mate bond connecting our souls began to violently sever.

I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, refusing to let out even a single whimper.

To an ordinary she-wolf, this pain was unbearable.

But to me?

The agonizing memories of my own flesh roasting and melting in my previous life had long numbed me to this trivial sting.

Darius, however, staggered back heavily.

A raw, animalistic groan escaped his throat as his hand flew to his chest, clutching his tailored shirt.

The shock quickly morphed into absolute, narcissistic rage.

"You actually broke our bond?!" he roared, his eyes flashing to a dangerous, glowing gold as he finally processed the legal documents in his hand.

It wasn't just the loss of his mate that enraged him-it was the absolute loss of his control over me.

A palpable wave of power rolled off him, the oppressive aura of an Alpha demanding total submission.

The air in the foyer grew heavy, thick with his fury.

"Do you have any idea what you did, Ciara? You think throwing this pathetic, suicidal tantrum will force me to compromise?!"

Even now, he actually thought I was just playing a high-stakes game of hard-to-get.

He expected me to flinch.

To shrink back.

To submit to his Alpha command and beg for his affection.

I didn't.

Because the moment I initiated the rejection, his bloodline hold over me evaporated.

His oppressive aura felt like a toddler's tantrum now-loud, annoying, and completely meaningless.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," I said, my voice cold and steady. "I am cutting a tumor out of my life."

My calm defiance was gasoline on his fire.

He closed the distance between us in a blink, his towering shadow falling over me.

He grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging viciously into my tender skin.

"You think you can just walk away?" he spat, his words turning cruel to mask the searing pain of the tearing bond. "Who would want you? A broken, unstable she-wolf who just spent five days in a psychiatric isolation ward? I'll have the guards lock you back in that cell right now until you remember your place!"

A genuine, chilling laugh escaped my lips.

It was a bitter sound that made the hair on his arms stand up.

"Unstable?" I raised an eyebrow, easily swatting his hand away with my newfound clarity. "You mean the convenient diagnosis you tried to force on me to protect your little mistress?"

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a crisp, folded document.

I slapped it right over the withdrawal papers he was holding.

It was an official psychiatric discharge summary, stamped and signed just an hour ago.

At the bottom, in clear, bold print, were the words: "Comprehensive evaluation confirms no signs of feral behavior or clinical psychosis. Patient is in perfect mental health. - Signed, Vance, Head Pack Physician."

Darius stared at Vance's signature, his pupils shrinking in disbelief.

He was finally realizing I wasn't throwing a jealous fit.

I had spent those five days executing a flawless exit strategy.

Before Darius could utter another word, footsteps echoed from the grand staircase.

"Darius? I heard shouting..."

It was Geneva.

She descended the stairs, holding a covered ceramic bowl, the perfect picture of domestic concern.

My eyes immediately narrowed.

She wasn't just wearing her cheap perfume; she was draped in my favorite cream-colored cashmere cardigan, casually acting like the lady of the manor.

"I heard Ciara was finally released, so I made some calming chamomile soup in the kitchen," she cooed, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

She walked over, her expression a flawless blend of confusion, fear, and hurt.

"Oh," she whispered, clutching the soup bowl to her chest like a fragile shield, looking at the legal documents scattered on the marble floor. "Am I... interrupting something? Ciara, please don't be mad at Darius, it's all my fault..."

Darius's anger, which had been directed at me, immediately softened at the sight of her tears.

He instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding this "fragile" creature.

"Ciara is just having another one of her unreasonable episodes," Darius said through gritted teeth, glaring at me.

"Ciara," Geneva whimpered, looking at me with wide, teary eyes. "Please, I didn't mean to take your job at the logistics center! If you're angry, just punish me! I'll move out of the bridal suite, I promise! Just don't reject Darius over your jealousy!"

I crossed my arms, watching their cheap theater with absolute zero emotion.

I felt strangely detached, like a spectator watching two clowns perform in a burning circus.

"Save the acting, Geneva," I said, my voice cutting through her fake sobs like a scythe. "There's no need for you to move out. Like I said, you can keep the lingerie, and keep the trash standing in front of you."

I looked at Darius, who looked completely trapped between his furious former mate and his weeping mistress.

"You wanted to demonstrate your 'tolerance and mercy' to this starving single mother?" I mocked, throwing his own hypocritical words from five days ago right back at his face. "Congratulations, Alpha Darius. You now have the rest of your life to coddle her."

"Now, Darius," I ordered, my voice ringing with undeniable authority. "Get your parasite out of my sight."