Alpha, You Signed the Divorce, Don’t Cry Now

Kristine's POV

“What do you mean you’re done? Are you going against me now, Kristine?”

His voice was laced with fury. Hunter hated being challenged—and what I just did? That was outright war to him.

He glanced down at the paper I’d handed him, then back at me.

“What the hell is this?” His expression twisted. “You’re such a liar. Always have been. You never even looked sick! You begged me for help, acting like you were dying out of nowhere.”

That’s what he threw at me—accusations like knives, without a second thought.

To him, I was nothing more than a liar. A burden. A mistake. But never once I lied at him or anyone.

Did I deserve it? Maybe in his eyes.

I bit the inside of my cheek, pressing my lips tightly together. I didn’t explain. There was no point. He wouldn’t believe me anyway. He never did.

My heart felt like it was cracking open inside my chest, but I held my ground. I needed his signature. That was all.

He let out a frustrated sigh and looked at me with those cold, dark blue eyes, the same ones I used to lose myself in. For five long years, I searched those eyes for warmth, even a flicker of care. But it was always cold. Always empty. Gone was the warmth it had he had given to me before he suddenly changed.

I gave everything just to be seen by him. To be loved. Even just liked. But all I ever got... was pain.

“I’m leaving. I won’t be here for a week,” he muttered, as if I wasn’t standing there watching him walk away. He took the paper, about to read it, but then his phone rang.

His entire expression changed. That worry? I already knew.

It was Ellena.

“I need to handle something important,” he said quickly, turning away like I no longer existed.

“Just sign it before you go,” I said, stopping him.

He scowled. “Can’t it wait?”

“No. This is for the best, just like you wanted.”

He glanced between me and his ringing phone, teeth grinding in annoyance. Finally, with a hiss of frustration, he snatched the pen, signed the paper without even reading it, and shoved it back at me.

“Done!”

Some pages fluttered to the ground, but he didn’t care. He shifted and took off in a rush straight to where she was.

I stared at the scattered pages, tears blurring my vision. He didn’t even notice. Didn’t even ask what he signed.

It was our divorce. The rejection of our bond.

I let out a laugh, broken and hollow, as I bent down to pick them up.

Even now, it still hurt so much.

My phone rang as I wiped my tears and checked the screen.

Not him.

I answered.

“Have you done it?” The deep, commanding voice on the other end made my spine stiffen.

I cleared my throat. “Yes. Just like I said. I keep my word.”

“Good. I hope this time you really mean it, Kiki,” he warned. “You know I don’t like being lied to. I’m giving you one week.”

I clenched the phone tighter. “Two weeks. Just give me two.”

“Two? That wasn’t our deal,” he said, disappointed.

“Please, Zeu. Just two weeks. After that… you’ll have me. I promise.”

Silence. The longer he stayed quiet, the more my anxiety clawed up my throat.

“Do you understand me?” I whispered.

He let out a sigh. “How could I not? Fine. Two weeks.”

I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Thank you. I need to finish something before I leave.”

“I hope it doesn’t break you more than you already are,” he murmured before the line went dead.

I stared at the wall for a moment, then closed my eyes. I thought it would be easy to walk away.

But it wasn’t.

This place had stolen more tears from me than it ever gave joy.

If it wasn’t for Zeu... today might’ve been my funeral.

The day I begged Hunter to come back… it was Zeu who found me. Zeu who stayed. Zue who saved. He’d always been there.

And now… I’d signed my fate.

This time, I was choosing myself.

I deserved to be happy.

Just two more weeks.

Two weeks to rip the pages apart, to burn the memories, to finally destroy every bridge behind me.

As I packed away everything that tied me to Hunter, my phone rang again. I thought it was Zeu.

But no.

It was her.

My mother.

“Hello?”

The word felt foreign. I never really called her mother anymore. Not after what she said five years ago—how she despised me for being her daughter, how she’d only ever see Ellena as hers.

All because of a broken sapphire necklace, a family heirloom that Ellena destroyed.

But when I tried to explain, I was branded a liar.

Again.

“Where are you? Have you forgotten what day it is today?”

Her voice was cold. Irritated.

No warmth.

No love.

Not the way she spoke to Ellena.

Unfair?

Yes.

Because I’m her real daughter and she despised me.