Your Alpha King Father's My Husband Now-Back Off, Ex!

Was it a miracle to see again after a year of darkness?

Ava Bennett had prayed to the Moon Goddess more times than she could count. Now she sat still, palms sweating, waiting for the doctor to lift the bandages.

With a soft tug, light flooded her world.

Ava blinked, her heart in her throat. The room swam into focus. White walls. Instruments on a tray. Dr. Ward's kind face.

"How does it feel to see again, Miss Bennett?"

"It feels..." Her voice cracked. "Like I've been drowning, and someone finally pulled me up."

The doctor chuckled and tapped something into his tablet. "The surgery was a complete success."

Ava laughed, wet and shaky. A year of bumping into doorframes. Counting steps. Learning people by their scent. And now she could see the water stain on the ceiling.

She'd never been so happy to see anything so ugly.

"Thank you, Dr. Ward. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me." He gave her a meaningful look. "I did this as a favor to someone. If I hadn't fixed your eyes, I'd have hell to pay."

"Victor." Warmth spread through her chest. "He really went all out for me, didn't he?"

For a moment the doctor just looked at her. Something careful in it. A little sad, even. Then he glanced down at his chart.

"Alpha Victor has certainly been very... invested in your treatment."

She was too dizzy with joy to catch the meaning.

Her fingers slipped into her coat pocket and found the small velvet box. A ring. She'd bought it before the surgery.

Today, she was going to walk into their house, get down on one knee, and ask Victor to make her his Luna.

They were fated mates, and Ava had believed the bond was everything the stories promised. Then Stella Moore, Victor's childhood friend and admirer, had gotten jealous and thrown a fistful of poisoned powder into her eyes, blinding her.

Guilt ate at Victor for failing to protect her. He'd thrown Stella into the dungeon and nearly beaten her to death. Only the elders had gotten her out of the country in time. Then Victor spent the whole year making it up to Ava, chasing down specialist after specialist, holding her through every broken night, swearing he'd kill Stella for her crime.

Through all of it, Ava had clung to one thing: whatever else went wrong, her mate loved her.

She'd even made a quiet promise. If the surgery failed, she'd reject him herself, so he'd never have to carry a blind mate out of pity.

Now, she was whole again, and surely that was the Moon Goddess blessing their love.

She left the hospital with her white cane and the dark glasses, planning to save the news of her sight for the proposal, a double surprise for Victor.

Ava hurried home, pushed the door open, and stepped inside, ready to call his name.

Then she stopped dead.

A pair of high heels and a handbag sat by the door. Neither was hers.

From the bedroom upstairs came a moan, clear and unmistakable, and the dull thud of the bed hitting the wall.

Ava's stomach turned. She climbed the stairs on trembling legs and stopped outside their bedroom door.

"Yes, Victor," the voice purred, "fuck me hard, I'm gonna squirt for you."

She would never forget that voice.

Stella Moore.

Her mate was in bed with the woman who'd blinded her. And from the lazy familiarity of it, this was nowhere near the first time.

But that, Ava would learn in the next sixty seconds, was the smallest of the things about to break her.

"Careful." Stella's murmur drifted through the gap. "Your little blind pet might feel it."

Victor laughed. "She won't. I have never marked her. She can't feel the betrayal."

Once a werewolf marks and claims a mate, betrayal carries a physical price, a sharp, tearing pain through the bond. Victor had never marked Ava. She'd thought he was waiting for the wedding.

"Be honest with me." Stella's voice sharpened beneath the sweetness. "Her or me. Who do you actually want?"

"You. Only ever you. You think I'd touch a blind girl if I didn't have to? I've spent a year playing nursemaid to a woman I can hardly stand to look at."

In the hallway, Ava went very still.

The ringing started somewhere behind her eyes, high and thin, like a wire pulled too tight. She pressed a hand flat to the wall to keep standing.

All that guilt. All that tenderness. The doctors, the sleepless nights, the way he'd held her when she'd sobbed that she'd rather be dead than dark. She'd called it love.

It had been disgust the whole time, wearing a kinder face.

"So you keep her around for what?" Stella asked. "Decoration?"

"She's my fated mate. The elders eat that up. A devoted Alpha standing by his poor blind mate, so noble." His voice cooled, businesslike. "The Moon Goddess handed me a wolfless mate and called it destiny. I have never forgiven her for it. But an Alpha can't be the one to reject the bond. The pack would call me heartless."

Ava's breath stopped in her chest.

"So?" Stella pressed. "You just wait?"

"I wait." Victor sounded pleased with himself. "I will wait for her to go blind for good. A pitiful blind girl breaks eventually. She will reject me first, out of some noble little urge to set me free, and everyone will weep for the tragic Alpha who did everything he could." He laughed. "She's stupid and soft. She'll do the dirty work for me and thank me on her way out."

Ava felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

If she'd stayed blind for good, she would have made her rejection the last, kindest gift she would have had to give him.

Instead, he'd been waiting for that gift like a knife he'd already pressed into her hand.

The velvet box dug into her chest. She'd carried it all the way home to beg him to keep her forever.

"And after?" Stella's voice was greedy now.

"I marry you. Soon. Before Damon takes a Luna and the elders back off him." The bed creaked as he shifted. "If I'm mated and married when the elders vote, they'll have no choice but to name me the next Alpha King."

"And poor, blind little Ava?"

"I'll let her down gently. Set her up somewhere far away. She'll cry, she'll get over it." He shrugged. "Blind girls can't afford to be picky."

Six years.

Not one day of it real.

Ava closed her eyes behind the dark lenses. When she opened them, the ringing was gone. So was everything soft in her chest.

She knew exactly what she was going to do.

She pushed the glasses firmly up her nose, smoothed her face into the blank, lost look she'd worn for a year, and set her hand on the door.

Then she pushed it open.

"Victor?" she called, voice soft and searching. "Victor, are you home? The hospital let me out early."

For one second, pure chaos.

Stella yanked the sheet to her chest. Victor shot upright, grabbing for his shirt, eyes wide.

Ava let her gaze drift, unfocused, over the ceiling. She tapped her cane against the doorframe and watched every flicker of their panic.

Then, slowly, they remembered.

She couldn't see them.

The fear drained out of Victor's face. His shoulders dropped. He quickly motioned at Stella to keep quiet, and his whole tone changed, sliding back into that warm, worried tone she'd once mistaken for devotion.

"Sweetheart." He crossed the room. "You scared me. Coming back from the hospital alone? Do you know how dangerous that is? You should have called. I'd have come for you myself."

It was flawless. If she really were blind, she'd have believed every word.

Behind him, Stella slid off the bed and pulled her dress on, slow, lazy, unbothered. Then she crossed to Victor's side, wound an arm through his, and dragged her hand down his chest.

Smiling at Ava the whole time.

Ava's grip tightened on the cane.

She took a step forward, sweeping it in front of her, tapping the floor like she was feeling for the way. One step. Two.

"Oh..." She swayed, one hand rising to her temple. "Victor, I'm dizzy..."

The cane whipped out to the side as she lost her balance, and caught Stella hard across the arm.

Stella yelped and stumbled back, hand flying to her arm.

Ava's knees buckled. She pitched forward, straight into Victor's arms.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried, groping in the air. "Did I hit something?"

Then she turned her blank stare toward the sound of Stella's sobbing, tilted her head, and let the question fall softly and sweetly into the room.

"Victor... is there someone else in here with us?"

Victor steadied Ava, his hand settling gently on her waist.

"There's no one here, sweetheart," he said. "I must have left the TV on. You know how loud those shows get."

Ava almost admired it. Still lying, straight to her face. She wanted to see how long he could keep it up.

Victor jerked his chin at Stella. Leave.

Stella rubbed the arm that the cane had struck, tears running down her face. She didn't budge.

His jaw tightened. He sent a mind-link to her. "Stop crying. Go. Now."

Victor pulled Ava closer, clearing a path for Stella to slip out.

But Stella's eyes stayed locked on his arm around Ava's waist, and her face twisted.

"So what if she finds out now?" she shot back through the link. "I'm done hiding."

"Not now." His patience frayed.

Stella caught the warning in it. Finally, she turned on her heel and started for the door.

Ava chose that moment to pull free, fumbling, hands groping in the air for balance.

"Wait," she said, soft and uncertain. "Shouldn't we turn off the TV?"

She took two shuffling steps forward. Straight into Stella's path.

"Good idea," Victor said quickly, voice tight. "I'll take care of it."

Ava crouched, fingers searching the floor until they closed around the cane.

She gripped it.

And as she rose, she brought her heel down hard on Stella's foot.

Stella shrieked.

Ava gasped and staggered, the cane swinging wildly. It cracked across Stella's shoulder. Once. Twice. The third swing caught her ribs, and Stella reeled into the wall.

"I'm sorry!" Ava cried, her face a picture of horror. "I heard a noise, I didn't know-"

"You bitch!" Every trace of the sweet pretense shattered.

Stella lunged.

Ava sidestepped. She dropped the cane, caught Stella's wrist mid-swing, twisted it back hard, and fisted her other hand in Stella's hair.

Stella screamed.

"Stella, stop!" Victor shouted. But he didn't pull her away.

He grabbed Ava's wrist instead. Hard. Bones grinding.

Ava didn't let go. She yanked hard, and Stella screamed again, clawing at her arm. Then Stella's free hand flew up, nails raking across Ava's cheek.

Skin split. Blood welled warm and slid down her jaw.

"Let go of me!" Ava wrenched free of Victor's grip, shoved Stella back by her hair, and released her.

Victor shoved Ava.

Her spine slammed into the dresser. The breath punched out of her lungs.

She stood there, chest heaving, one hand pressed to her bleeding cheek.

And Victor stepped between them. His back to Ava. Hands raised, like she was the one who needed calming.

"Enough," he said, low and firm. "Both of you."

Stella melted into him, trembling, face buried against his shoulder, breath hitching in soft little sobs.

Victor's hand came up to cradle the back of her head. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

Ava watched them and felt the last of something die.

"She attacked me," Stella whimpered. "Victor, she attacked me."

"I know," he murmured. "It's over now."

Ava's hands curled into fists.

Finally, Victor turned to face her. His expression was hard. He looked at her like she was a stranger.

Worse. Like she was the villain in the room.

Ava straightened. "Why is Stella here?"

"She was worried about me." Calm. Reasonable. "The elders are putting pressure on me, Ava. They won't accept a blind Luna. No pack would."

Her throat tightened. "You forget she's the one who blinded me?"

"She was young. She acted out. She didn't mean for it to go that far." He sighed, the patient one. "She's spent a year suffering abroad. She's grown up. Why can't you let it go?"

Acted out. He actually said acted out.

A year ago, this man had thrown Stella into the dungeon. He'd wept with Ava, sworn he'd kill Stella for taking her sight.

Now Stella was in his bed, and it was Ava he looked at like the problem.

Ava let out a slow breath. When she spoke, her voice was quiet.

"Then choose."

Victor blinked. "What?"

"Her or me." She lifted her chin toward Stella, still curled against his chest. "You keep calling yourself my mate. So choose. Right now. Her, or me."

For a heartbeat, something crossed his face. Not guilt. Calculation.

Then it settled, cold and final.

"Be reasonable, Ava." He didn't hesitate. "You're blind. A blind woman can't be Luna. She can't stand at my side, can't read a room, can't find her own mate across it. The pack would never bow to you." His voice softened. "I've carried you for a year. I can't carry you forever."

No performance left. Just the truth he'd been circling all along, waiting for her to say it first.

So she said it for him.

Ava straightened, and her voice came out clear and steady.

"I, Ava Bennett, reject you, Victor Sterling, as my mate."

Victor's breath caught.

For one raw second the bond wrenched, a hot, tearing pain ripping through her.

Victor recovered first, and something like relief loosened his shoulders. He'd wanted this. She'd handed it to him gift-wrapped, exactly as he'd planned.

"...I accept," he said firmly. "I accept your rejection, Ava."

The mate bond snapped cleanly.

And Ava lifted her hand and pulled off the dark glasses.

Her eyes met his. Clear. Focused. Bright hazel, and burning.

The color drained from Victor's face.

"Wait-" He stepped toward her. "Ava, wait. You can see-"

"For a whole year," Ava said, "you waited for me to set you free so you'd get to keep your hands clean." She tilted her head. "Take a good look, Victor. This is the last time I'll ever look at you like you matter."

Victor's mouth opened. Nothing came out.

"Get out."

"Ava, please, just listen-"

"Get. Out." Her voice didn't shake at all. "Both of you. This is my house."

"Victor." Stella pressed a hand to her ribs, whimpering. "It hurts. I think she broke something."

Victor's head whipped toward her, concern flooding right back. He scooped Stella up like she weighed nothing.

"I'll take you to the hospital," he murmured.

The door slammed behind them.

Ava stood alone in the wreck of her bedroom.

Her hand found the velvet box.

She crossed to the window, pushed it open, and dropped the box into the dark. She didn't hear it land.

Six years since the bond appeared, gone in one small sound she never even heard.

She did not know how long she had been standing there when the phone rang.

She stared at it, then picked it up.

"Finally." Her mother's voice, sharp and impatient. No hello. "Your father and I have been calling all day."

Ava closed her eyes. "I was at the hospital."

"Right, right, the eyes." Marnie blurted. "Listen, we need to move fast on the Stella girl. She blinded you, the pack owes us. You'll file with the elders and demand compensation. A lot of it. Your brother needs a house, the wedding's coming up-"

"Mom." Ava's voice was very quiet. "I can see again."

A beat of silence. Then: "Even better. You can sign the forms yourself. So, about the amount-"

Ava opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Not thank the Goddess. Not are you all right. Two people had sworn they loved her today. Neither one had asked about her eyes.

"No," she said.

"What did you just say?"

"I said no. I'm not filing anything. I'm not asking for a cent." Her voice steadied, cold and clear. "Victor and I are finished. I rejected him. Whatever you were planning to squeeze out of the Sterlings, forget it. I'm not paying for Wyatt's house. Not his wedding. Not anything."

"You ungrateful little-"

"I'm done bleeding for all of you."

Ava hung up.

She set the phone down. It rang again at once.

She didn't pick it up.

Then the doorbell rang.

Her head snapped toward it. Her stomach dropped.

Victor. Of course. Back to explain, to smooth it over, to make her feel like she'd blown it all out of proportion.

She stalked to the door, bruised arm aching, and wrenched it open.

"I told you to leave. I don't want to hear-"

The words died in her throat.

The man on her doorstep was not Victor.

Taller. Broader. A dark suit cut to perfection. And his eyes, cold and silver-blue, fixed on her face with an intensity that caught her breath.

The Alpha King. Damon Sterling.

Victor's adoptive father.

Ava's pulse jumped.

"Miss Bennett." Damon's voice rang out, low and unhurried. "We need to talk."

Damon Sterling.

The name alone carried weight across the entire werewolf continent. He ruled the Royal Pack, and through it, every pack in the North bent the knee to him. He was the Alpha King-the apex predator in a world where strength decided everything.

Victor was his adopted son. Ten years separated them, but the gap in power was a chasm.

Ava's mind raced. Why would the Alpha King come to her door?

She knew the basics. Damon had taken Victor into the Sterling family years before and groomed him as a potential heir. But Damon himself had always kept his distance, a figure shrouded in rumor and reputation.

Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable.

Victor had mentioned him occasionally, always with a mix of reverence and fear. "He doesn't care about anyone," Victor had said once. "Not even his own wolf. He's been broken since the war."

The war. Six years ago, Damon led the Royal Pack against a massive rogue invasion. He won, but barely. His wolf, Ragnar, was critically injured in the final battle, wounded so badly that the bond between man and beast fractured. Ragnar had lost the ability to sense a fated mate.

For a wolf, that was a death sentence for any hope of true love.

But Damon hadn't seemed to care. He'd thrown himself into building his empire, expanding his reach until he controlled half the continent's resources. A legend. A king without a queen.

Until now, apparently.

Ava forced herself to meet his gaze. Those silver-blue eyes were unreadable, but they held her in place, and something in her chest quickened despite itself.

"Miss Bennett," Damon said again, his voice dropping lower. "May I come in?"

Ava stepped aside.

Damon moved past her into the living room, his presence filling the space, thick and electric. He didn't sit. Instead, he stood by the window, hands in his pockets, looking out at the city lights. For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he turned to face her.

"You rejected Victor," he said. Flat. Certain.

Ava's eyebrows lifted. She'd broken up with Victor for less than twenty-four hours. How did he already know? Did news travel that fast in the packs?

She could guess why he was here. Like every wealthy family with a spoiled heir, he'd come to clean up his son's mess. To make sure the discarded ex wouldn't come sniffing around again.

"Yes. If you're here because you're worried I'll cling to him, don't be. Victor and I are done. I won't be causing any more trouble."

Damon watched her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Miss Bennett, I'm not here for him. I came here to offer you a deal."

Damon pulled a folder from inside his coat and set it on the coffee table. "A marriage contract."

Ava thought she'd misheard. "Alpha Damon, that's not a joke."

"I don't joke about contracts, Miss Bennett. I need a Luna," Damon said. "I imagine you've heard the rumors. The Elder Council has been pressuring me for years to marry and produce an heir."

"Then why choose me?" Ava asked.

Damon's gaze held hers a beat too long. Her pulse skipped.

"I've investigated you thoroughly because of Victor, Miss Bennett. You're suitable. Intelligent. Beautiful. Well-educated, with an impressive resume. And I'm interested in you. I admire your clarity and ambition-your ability to leverage every resource at your disposal."

Ava's heart gave a heavy thump.

"I don't make decisions blindly." Damon moved closer, closing the distance between them until she could smell the faint scent of cedar and winter air clinging to his coat. "I'm offering you a partnership. A mutually beneficial arrangement. You get resources, protection, and the satisfaction of making Victor regret every choice he made. I get a Luna to silence the elders."

Making Victor regret it. The thought was tempting.

Ava thought of Victor's words. "A blind girl can't be Luna." She couldn't help asking, "If I were still blind, would you bring this contract to me?"

"If you were still blind," he said quietly, "I would choose you as my Luna, then everything about you would be my responsibility. Your safety. Your well-being. Your future. An Alpha who can't protect his mate's eyes, or heal them, has failed her. If I chose you, everything about you would be mine to carry."

Ava's hands trembled. She clasped them together to hide it. "And what if I say no?"

Damon's expression didn't change, but his voice dropped lower. "Then I'll respect your decision and leave. But I think you're smarter than that."

He gestured to the folder on the table. "Read the contract. You'll find the terms more than generous."

Ava picked up the folder with shaking hands and flipped it open. Her eyes scanned the pages.

A generous monthly allowance.

Full access to Sterling Holdings' resources.

Support for establishing her own architectural firm.

Complete autonomy over her professional life.

The list went on. It was absurd. It was more than she'd ever dreamed of.

And then she reached the clause near the end.

[Physical Intimacy Clause: This marriage shall include all rights and responsibilities of a traditional mate bond, including but not limited to shared living arrangements and physical intimacy. The Alpha does not accept a sexless union.]

Ava's face flushed. She looked up at Damon, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.

"You're very direct," she said.

"I'm a man with normal needs, Miss Bennett." Damon's voice was matter-of-fact, almost clinical. "I can restrain myself or take care of things on my own before marriage. But after? I see no reason to continue that way. I don't accept a sexless marriage."

"But you're thirty-five. I'm twenty-five." Ava's voice came out smaller than she intended. "We're ten years apart. That kind of gap... it affects compatibility."

Damon's eyebrows arched, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "So you're saying you think I'm too old? That I can't perform?"

Ava's mouth opened, then closed. Heat flooded her cheeks. How did every conversation with this man veer into dangerous territory?

Damon's gaze darkened as he watched the flush spread across her face. He took a slow step forward.

"Let me be clear, Miss Bennett." His voice dropped, velvet-edged and dangerous. "Age has nothing to do with stamina. Experience, on the other hand, has everything to do with knowing exactly how to satisfy a woman."

Ava's throat went dry. She tried to step back, but the edge of the sofa hit the backs of her knees.

Damon closed the distance between them. He didn't touch her, but his presence surrounded her, heavy and electric.

"You're overthinking this," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "A marriage contract doesn't mean I'll demand anything from you on day one. But I won't pretend I don't want you, either."

Ava looked at the man standing so close in front of her. He was better than Victor in every way. All she had to do was sign this contract, and everything would be hers.

But the price? She'd be marrying a man ten years older than her. A man she barely knew. A man who was technically her ex-boyfriend's father.

It was destined to be an unequal relationship. The gap in status. The gap in life experience.

Was it worth it?

She thought of Victor's face when he'd shoved her. Of Stella's smug expression as she clung to his arm. Of her mother's voice on the phone, demanding money.

She thought of the job she'd have to quit because she couldn't stand running into Victor at pack events. The humiliation of being the rejected ex-girlfriend everyone would pity.

Then she thought of the contract in front of her.

Financial independence. A title. Power. Respect.

Should she sign?