Marrying the Monster Alpha, Nemesis of my Ex-alpha-husband

Freya

The next morning, I went back to the Snowfield packhouse.

The mansion looked the same as always—grand, cold, untouched by tragedy. The guards bowed when they saw me, but their eyes flickered to the black dress I was wearing and then to my tired face. No one dared to stop me.

I walked through the halls slowly, my heels echoing against marble floors that once felt like home. The servants avoided my gaze. Whispers followed me, but no one spoke loud enough for me to hear.

I went straight to our bedroom. No. His bedroom. I packed lightly. A suitcase. Some clothes. Important documents. Liam’s small shirt I folded felt like another blade twisting inside my ribs.

By the time I finished, it was already afternoon. That was when Archer walked in.

We stopped a few steps away from each other.

He looked at the things I was carrying briefly, then at me.

“You’re bringing Liam home now?” he asked.

I swallowed. I nodded.

I was bringing him home, just not in the way he imagined.

“Make sure you let him visit his brother,” Archer said casually, loosening his tie. “Wallace’s operation was successful.”

Brother. The word felt like acid in my ears. It amazed me how easily he could say it. How proud he sounded.

He had moved mountains overnight for Wallace. Contacted Alphas across territories. Used every connection he had. But when Liam was fighting for his life, he suspended my accounts. When I begged him for help, he blocked my number.

“I will,” I said quietly.

Because what else was there to say? He walked past me without another word. I stood there for a moment longer, feeling something dark settle deeper inside my chest.

My anger had already been burning. Now it felt endless.

---

The ride to Crescent Pack was long. Hours passed, but I barely noticed. The urn containing the ashes of Liam rested in my lap the entire time. I held it like I used to hold Liam when he fell asleep in the car, his head against my chest.

I wore black. For mourning.

When the gates of Crescent Pack opened, I felt something shift inside me. Memories rushed back—running through these fields as a child, laughing with my brother, training with the warriors. I had left all of this behind for Archer.

The guards froze when they saw me step out of the car. Their eyes dropped to the urn. Shock spread across their faces.

No one questioned me. No one tried to stop me. Word must have spread quickly, because by the time I reached the main house, my parents and my brother were already waiting at the entrance.

My mother’s hand flew to her mouth. My father looked like he had been struck. And my brother—Alpha Lucas now—stared at the urn as if it might disappear if he blinked.

“Freya…” my mother whispered.

I didn’t trust my voice, so I walked forward and placed the urn gently on the table in the center of the hall.

“This is Liam,” I said.

Silence fell. Then my mother broke down. My father’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Lucas stepped forward slowly. “What fuck happened?”

So I told them. Everything. The accident. Allison driving. Alpha Archer believing her. The hospital bills. The blocked calls. The rehabilitation center. Wallace. The bone marrow. The affair before my wedding. My miscarriage.

I told them all of it without crying. By the time I finished, the air inside the hall felt heavy with rage. Lucas slammed his fist against the table. “Snowfield will answer for this.”

My father’s wolf was near the surface; I could feel the Alpha pressure radiating from him. “We will call for a pack council. This is grounds for war.”

My mother wiped her tears, her eyes blazing. “He let his own son die.”

War. Revenge. Blood. For a moment, it was tempting. So tempting to let them fight for me.

To let Snowfield burn. But I was so tired.

“I’m exhausted,” I said softly.

They looked at me.

“I don’t want a pack war.”

Lucas frowned. “Freya—”

“I’m going to divorce him,” I continued. “And I’ll get back at them in my own way.”

My father studied me carefully. “What are you planning?”

I hesitated before speaking again. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, looking at my parents. “For running away. I should have listened to you. I should have married the Northern Pack’s Alpha instead of that fucking Alpha.”

The memory made my chest tighten. Years ago, my parents had arranged a political marriage between me and the Alpha of Northern Pack. Everyone called him a monster. Cold. Ruthless. Dangerous.

I had been young. Scared. So I ran, and I even eloped with Alpha Archer. I chose what I thought was love.

“And now?” Lucas asked carefully.

I met his gaze. “If he’s still willing… I will marry him willingly this time.”

My mother inhaled sharply.

“Freya, are you sure?” Lucas asked.

I nodded slowly and looked out the window at the cloudy sky.

“I have a plan,” I said. “And if it means marrying the Northern Alpha, I’ll do it.”

For Liam. For the child I lost. For the woman I used to be.

“Please hold a funeral for Liam,” I added. “On the last day, I’ll come back. Fully divorced.”

My family exchanged looks. Then my father nodded.

“We will honor him properly,” he said.

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like my son would finally be seen.

---

I returned to Snowfield the next day. The packhouse felt even colder than before.

That afternoon, the mail arrived. Among the documents was the envelope I had been waiting for.

Divorce papers. Official. Stamped. Legal.

I stared at Alpha Archer’s name printed beside mine.

Freya Harlan. Not for long. I would be free from his surname soon. I folded the papers carefully and walked toward his office. The door was slightly open. He was inside, speaking on the phone.

“Yes, I’ll visit Wallace after this,” he said. “Make sure he takes his medication.”

Wallace. Always Wallace. He ended the call and looked up when I entered.

“What?” he said impatiently. “I’m busy. I’m going to finish fast to visit Wallace.”

I stood there quietly for a moment. I studied him. This man had once held my hand and promised me forever. Now he could barely spare me a glance.

“This is the paper needing your signature from the rehabilitation center,” I lied evenly. “Just sign it quickly. I’m going there now to pass it.”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Tsk. Give that to me.”

I walked forward and handed him the papers. He didn’t read them. Didn’t even skim through. He picked up his pen and signed at the bottom without hesitation.

No questions. No suspicion. No care. He slid the papers back toward me.

“There,” he said. “Anything else?”

I took the documents. Looked at his signature. Alpha Archer Harlan. My soon-to-be ex-husband.

“No,” I replied softly. “That’s all.”

I turned and walked out of his office, closing the door behind me. He didn’t even know he had just signed away our marriage. He was too busy being a father to his childhood sweetheart's child.